This task was hastily done at the last minute, yes, but great care was still put into the mix. I tend to make mixes better under pressure, I think, as some of my best ones came from me trying to compile them before going to school at 7:30 in the morning when I had to be there at 7:45, and it was going to take 15 minutes just to burn it (I was constantly late due to that slow piece of crap burner). This is a departure from my usual mix, in that I deviated from three of my own personal rules: 1) No back to back artist tracks… And one track separating the two songs doesn’t fly, 2) Make sure everything flows as if you were making a completely new album. Pretend you’re Roger Waters making sure the sequence to The Wall or Dark Side of the Moon is just right, and 3) No live tracks with studio tracks. One rule I did keep was the length. I kept it within 80 minutes because what good is compiling a mix if you can’t give it to someone if you’re proud of it. I wanted to be able to share a cd with someone if I felt compelled to do so. So, it’s probably pretty short by comparison to other mixes that will be. Oh well.

And now, “it has begun.”

“80 Minutes of Eternity”

———
01. Chocolate USA – Test (1992)

This is a fantastic lead track. It’s short, simple and hooked me into one of my favorite albums ever released. This was the first track that introduced me to the genius of one Mr. Julian Koster, formerly of Neutral Milk Hotel. Being in various choirs my whole life, I was pulled in by the loose harmonies of “Test” after popping this cd in the listening station. I stood at the listening station, totally engrossed in the completely carefree tone of the chorus as they sang a line like “We have something important to say/we’re all going to kill ourselves today” as if it were nothing important in the world, and possibly worth celebrating. I snatched this out of the Dollar bin in an instant, and played it in the car so much, friends of mine started to ask about it. Not just any friends, either: Admitted music snobs. Burned copies of this album were distributed freely since it was out of print, and many of us grew closer over our love for this album. This isn’t just an album that opened my ears to a more unconventional music style than the straightforward punk and classic rock/metal and whatever else I was listening to at the time. This brought me closer to my friends at a time when I felt alienated from those I considered my friends. And that is why it is my lead off track, as a sort of “welcome, come inside,” like I got. Let’s continue.

02. Kiss – Detroit Rock City (live) (1978)

This is the song that started it all. This is the earliest rock song I remember hearing. I was two years old, jumping on my oldest brother’s bed, attempting to sing along with Paul Stanley, being shown the picture on the inside of the gatefold of the album jacket of the unbelievable stage show that these four makeup wearing grown-ups were putting on with fire and lights and all this other fantastic ridiculousness. It would be Kiss that would end up being my first concert eight years later, and even though I could only faintly remember who they were, my brother insisted it was in my best interests to go with him. Hello, my name is Andrew, and I am now addicted to going to concerts because I saw Kiss when I was ten years old. It was everything I had hoped it was, and everything I had heard so long ago came rushing back to me during the show, and there I was, singing along to all the songs I remembered from my younger years. As embarrassing as it seems, if it weren’t for Kiss, I may not be here. What with many messages within the music being that of “stand your ground,” and “who cares what they think, have fun anyway,” it gave me the confidence needed to overcome quite a bit in my personal life, and even though they may be a bit of a joke nowadays, I owe a lot to this band. And “Detroit Rock City” from Alive II is what started everything. not just my interest in Kiss, but my interest in music. So I have Kiss to thank for everything. Everything.

03. Bruce Springsteen – Thunder Road (1975)

Keeping in the “get ‘em hooked while they’re young,” mindset that my brothers had, I was exposed to a lot, but few had as lasting an impact as Bruce Springsteen, particularly Born To Run and Born In The USA. I knew all the lyrics to both of these albums by the time I was four years old, and while some of those lyrics have faded from my memory (I have to admit I don’t listen to Born In The USA as much as I used to), listening to these albums make me feel like a kid again, discovering them both for the first time every time. “Thunder Road,” to me is a perfect composition set to a perfect poem. Everything just lines up so well, I sometimes weep. My wife and Brendan can both attest to me crying while seeing Bruce and the E Street Band perform Born To Run in it’s entirety. One puff on that harmonica, and I was gone, daddy, gone. The song moves me in a way I cannot begin to describe. More so than the title track, more so than “Jungleland,” more so than most songs. It’s a feeling that makes it seem like everything can and will be all right. And who knows? It might end up being that way.

04. Steve Vai – For The Love Of God (1990)

Steve Vai played in Frank Zappa’s band for a time. I didn’t know that, nor would I have known what that entailed when I was introduced to him by my younger older brother. I was just learning to play the guitar through a Beatles “Fakebook,” that showed the chords above the lyrics, and showed you how to make each chord. My brother decided to give me something to aspire to, clearly because I’m sure he realized that I’d never actually generate such a level of perfection on guitar. This is a composition that I always aspire to be able to play, but know I will never be able to get it down, which pushes me to be better than I am. The sheer virtuosity on display in this six minute track is impressive enough, but to think that this was done after the man fasted for four days (out of a total of ten in all) in order to achieve an altered state of consciousness because, “in those states you can come up with things that are unique even for yourself.” It certainly pushes me to be better at my instrument, though I know I’m not going to be this good. But that’s fine. I’m content to listen to the work of others.

05. Heywood Banks – Toast (1990, track from 2003)

Heywood Banks is a comedian that I’ve been a fan of for many, many years. Musical comedy is his specialty, and “Toast” is performed by banging a slot toaster, worn around the neck with a pair of forks. Odd as it may seem, this song has had a profound effect on my life. By the time I hit the eighth grade, I was near a breaking point in my life. My entire school life, I had been picked on for being the fat kid in my class (while other kids who were at my size or larger were not subjected to this sort of treatment, for the most part). During my eighth grade year, I had enough. After I was suspended twice, for trying to lash back at people insulting me and my family to the point of me threatening to kill them, and in another instance, punching them for doing so, I decided it was time to try to end this a different way. I decided to get up for the talent show, and perform this song. Play it exactly how Heywood plays it. People laughed. they spread the word. They weren’t interested in making fun of the fat kid now that they know he can make them laugh. Which helped. It was a turning point in my life. People stopped. I stopped caring what everyone was hurling at me, and as a result, it was just about a complete 180. I’ve spoken to Heywood after performances and told him about this, and even had him sign the first toaster I used to turn my life around. I don’t know if he’d ever had someone say that to him about his songs. I’m glad to let him know he made a difference in someone’s life instead of just made them laugh.

06. Propagandhi – Anti-Manifesto (1993)

Until about 2000, I was a pretty strong opponent of punk rock. Being raised on classic rock, I had the mindset of “no guitar solo = bad,” and all I had gleamed from any punk band was that they were usually sub-par musicians who couldn’t turn out a guitar solo if their lives depended on it. Looking back, I realize how absurd this was, but still, that’s how it was for me. My girlfriend at the time had two older brothers, both vegans, both major anarchists, and both major punk fans. A suggestion for me was this band called “Propagandhi.” I thought it was a funny name, so I got the song off of Napster. “Anti-Manifesto” was this blistering, near-metal punk rock assault on my senses. I knew not that such anger about a scene could be conveyed as succinctly as it was in this song. “Dance and laugh and play/ignore the message we convey/it seems we’re only here to entertain” and “We stand for something more/than a faded sticker on a skateboard/now we’ve rained on your parade, we’re out the door/and I don’t even care any fucking more” bookend the first verse, and I think, this is one of the most honest songs I’ve heard in my life. This was a sort of call to arms for me. I kept listening, and completely agreed with the ending line of the song, which merely stated, “it don’t really matter, ’cause nothing’s ever felt as right as this.” And then came what hooked me further: The solo. Honesty AND a solo! Who would’ve thought?

07. The Cure – Pictures of You (1989)

In stark contrast to the metal I was used to, or the punk I’d just gotten into, the Cure gave me an appreciation for the empty spaces, and the soaring soundscapes that is this song. When my first girlfriend and I broke up, this song that she urged me to download when we first declared ourselves a couple was at the top of my list of “well, gee, you should’ve seen this coming, dumbass” songs. Pictures were what we mostly had, and back then I truly did feel that if I had said anything differently, we’d have stayed together. Unfortunately this is the first of a long line of songs I can attribute to my first (and only) breakup, and their significance. Sorry!

08. Blink-182 – Apple Shampoo (1997)

Like I said, there’s more where “Pictures of You” came from. This is almost a song I would’ve written, right down to the title, considering Mark Hoppus wrote this song about a girl who used shampoo that smelled like apples… Which my first girlfriend did as well. Pretty popular stuff, apparently. But the feelings behind the song spoke to me at that time, and pushed me cherish the time spent together, rather than dwell on what we could’ve had. This was a song that would make me push myself harder on the exercise bike, in order to not let my parents hear me cry like a baby shortly after the breakup. However, with my first band, I was all for covering this song, because of what it says to me. It wasn’t a single, and due to it’s relative obscurity (in comparison to “Dammit,” I suppose), it’s a song I share when given the chance.

09. Alkaline Trio – Radio (2000)

I first saw Alkaline Trio open for Blink-182 and New Found Glory on the Take Off Your Pants and Jacket Tour in 2001. At both stops on the tour I saw, I took in all three bands, and couldn’t not pay attention to this song. The imagery is crystal clear: “shaking like a dog shitting razorblades.” This guy is not feeling good about the subject of this song. This is not going to be a happy love song. This song made me stand up straight in a crowded outdoor amphitheater to listen. From it’s simple start, to it’s screamed chorus, this song couldn’t be more perfect in my ears.

10. Blink-182 – What Went Wrong (2001)

A few months had passed since my breakup. Then a party I tried to get to gather on the last day of classes my freshman year of high school didn’t pan out, turnout was abysmal, and I still couldn’t find any other girl to even look at me, let alone go on a date with me. I was still a mess over her. And then this hidden track came on while I just sat in my (then unfinished) basement in my parents’ house. I broke down at the first chorus of “I can’t forgive, can’t forget, Can’t give in/What went wrong, ’cause you said this was right/You fucked up my life.” It was one of those moments you always laugh at in the movies, but every once in a while talk to the screen and start going “no, no, no, no, don’t do it, don’t do it.” I called her. I made her listen to the song. The whole thing. Told her that was what she’d left me to feel like. She was crying as she said she was sorry for doing it, but it couldn’t go on anymore. Even before I played that. She was still crying as she hung up. And so was I. I stayed down there until it was light out, listening to this song. It would probably be #1 on my last.FM if I were using a computer and not an old-school cd player for it just on that night/morning alone. It was just me and my loneliness that night. I can listen to the song without being a whiney emo kid now, but it even resurfaced when I actually saw Tom DeLonge perform it during Blink’s set of the Pop Disaster Tour with Green Day in ’02. it still takes me back sometimes. It’s a powerful memory. But it’s done and gone. Some songs just stay with you. Forever.

11. Jawbreaker – Kiss The Bottle (2002)

This was another recommendation by my first. To me, it’s the perfect EMO song, and after the breakup, I would’ve drank to this song every night if I drank at all. People who call bands today “emo,” truly don’t know what it is. Panic! at the Disco isn’t emo. Nothing like that is. Whining isn’t a core tenant. The vocal delivery on this song was painful for me to take at first. I figured Blake Schwarzenbach just couldn’t sing. But I realized later that this is pure, unadulterated emotion dealing with the loss of someone you hold dear due to circumstances that should be controllable, but for one reason or another… It just didn’t turn out that way. This is a yell along in the car song if I ever had one. And I feel it the way I’m supposed to when I do it.

12. NOFX – We Ain’t Shit (1995)

My attitude about being in a band is derived and explained by this song. If I ever get another band, the point of view that Fat Mike has in this song is exactly how mine will be. no matter how good we will be, we’ll still suck. But hey, as long as people will pay us, who cares? I can see everyone lining up to be in a band with me now, but in actuality, the mindset helps me strive to be better. It’s an inspiration to achieve more than what I previously think I can. If I thought I was hot shit in a band, then what motivation would I have to try harder? Complacency is dangerous in such a context, and I’d rather just not have any at all. I want to be the best, and why shouldn’t I? “We know that we ain’t shit” is a battle cry to me, conveying a sense of “yeah, you may think we suck, but we’re still getting paid, how about that?” And that’s bulletproof to me.

13. Andrew W. K. – I Get Wet (2001)

Andrew W. K. is a complete mystery to me. I still don’t know what it was about “Party Hard” that hooked me, but I just stared at the music video for the entire duration the first time I saw it on MTV, when MTV actually played videos in 2001. I picked up the cd, and it was more a breath of fresh air to me than anything I’d heard for a while. At the show, though, I found a world of complete abandonment. “I Get Wet” is one of those show closing songs that truly affirms the notion that life is good, and worth living, especially in a live setting. The pure energy that Andrew and the crowd exchange is proof that there is good in a seemingly shit-tastic world. The positivity put forth by Andrew and company allowed me to grow closer to friends of mine, and make more friends. And I can’t wait to see the full band again. It’s been too long.

14. The Minutemen – This Ain’t No Picnic (1984)

This short punk song comes from the rhythm section of Mike Watt and George Hurley. Since hearing this song and learning the baseline, even at a base level, it has been this song that I judge all bass players I ever want to play with. If a bassist can play this, they can surely play anything I’d want to write with them. The Red hot Chili Peppers didn’t so much teach me as much about a tight rhythm section as this song by this band did. Mike Watt has been a profound influence on my bass playing, and D. Boon, God rest his soul, taught me that you can have sparse guitar parts and jangle punk solos and still be cool as hell. The influence the Minutemen have had on my playing is immeasurable, and it’s mainly from this song. The bass just drives you to a different place. And it jams econo.

15. Manic Street Preachers – Another Invented Disease (1992)

If you know me at all, you know who Manic Street Preachers are. When my wife and I met, we got along together quite well musically. Within a month of meeting each other, Emily asked me to download a few tracks from this band I’d only heard of in passing. “Faster,” “4st 7lb,” and “A Design For Life” flashed across my screen as requested songs, but I couldn’t find any uncorrupted files (or rather blank files, who knows what viruses I put on that computer), so I heard nothing. We went out the next day for a day of thrifting, and lo and behold, while scrounging the Goodwill for cds, I came across an old Q Magazine compilation from 1992 in a paper sleeve. One of the tracks was “Another Invented Disease” from The Manics. “Hey, is this that band you were telling me about?” “……… GET IT.” We purchased it and popped it in the car immediately, and my body just started tingling. This was everything I liked about early nineties alternative/hard rock. Except the lyrics were smart, the guitar was crisp, not muddied by so much distortion, and there was just something about this band. The guitar was just so damn good, too. Being a guitar player myself, this is important, dammit! This song about the effects of drug culture and it’s being pushed by the very forces that enforce laws that lock people up for partaking in that culture in order to keep the populace in a stupor just shocked me in that oh so sweet way. It was a welcome surprise. Emily and I went on a mad quest to find more form this band that very same day. We went to every cd store we could think of looking for anything, giving us a hint of how difficult it would be to locate further material in the coming years. We finally found a copy of their 2001 album, Know Your Enemy, which was an obvious far cry from what they used to be, but it still obviously kept my interest enough to track down over 450 pieces of music and memorabilia by this one band that never got big over here in the States. This is the favorite band, this is the intro song.

16. Manic Street Preachers – Faster (1994)

“I hate purity. I hate goodness. I don’t want virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone corrupt” is a quote that leads off this song, atop glorious feedback, and sets the tone perfectly. This is the favorite song by the favorite artist. It is also the favorite song by any artist. This song is simple in it’s composition, riding a nice, augmented A chord most of the way through it’s lyrics. James Dean Bradfield intentionally kept the music simple because to do anything else would’ve been far to complex and difficult to recreate live because he’d also have to sing what were already difficult lyrics to spit out with the required vitriol. Lines like “Self-disgust is self-obsession, honey, and I do as I please,” “I know I believe in nothing, but it is my nothing” and “I’ve been to honest with myself, I should have lied like everybody else” hit me in the nuts the first time I heard this song. This song is not a traditionally punk song, but hits harder than most in the sheer honesty of the lyrics. The song runs through the first scathing eighty-five percent of the track before going into any semblance of a solo which makes the music take a turn from simple to face-melting in a solo that I’ve been trying to learn since I got my first copy of the album back in 2004. When I finally got to see the Manics on their first US tour in ten years back in 2009, I could do nothing but scream the lyrics to this song. There was no pogoing, no slam dancing, no headbanging… Just staring and screaming with the most ridiculous smile on my face.

17. Say Anything – Admit it (2004/2006)

More a sprawling monologue than a song, this is Max Bemis’ dissertation against the unfortunately prevalent hipster movement, and how disgusting or futilely stupid the prominent viewpoints of the movement were and how stupid the “not caring is cool” mindset is. It gave me a bit of backup in repudiating one of those stupid sceney hardcore chicks that so value their whole existence on building up a fake relationship with band members through solely casual encounters with the members. I feel there is much truth in the song, as it points out such vile hypocritical stances like the judgment of everything in sight when in all actuality, the one judging does so out of what seems like a compulsive superiority complex brought on by the exact judgment leveled by others unto them. If you don’t like this song, it probably applies to you too much.

18. The Dresden Dolls – Girl Anachronism (2003)

I actually found the Dresden Dolls’ first album at my public library. It caught me by surprise, as I don’t feel too much of a fondness to most female singers. It’s just one of those things. Amanda Palmer caught me off guard, though. The album’s second track, “Girl Anachronism,” displayed this fervor shown in the piano playing that was erratic, yet precise. Fundamentally flawed and imperfect, yet perfect at the same time. Brian Viglione’s drumming provided a perfect backdrop (and sometimes foreground) for the frantic lyrical delivery, and ivory tickling. When I first witnessed the band perform live, Mr. Viglione made me forget who the drummer for Slayer was because he was THAT impressive. “Girl Anachronism” started a love affair with a band that prompted Emily and I to drive 6 hours just to see them. Our vanity plate was a Dolls reference. And this is the song that hooked me in.

19. Chocolate USA – Two Dogs

Most love songs are completely sappy. For all the wrong reasons. They’re more syrupy than anything. Cheesy, and completely beyond what a rational adult should ever recite in front of people. This song is a love song in pure form, though. Julian Koster made a weird, quirky love song that spoke to my still childlike adolescent sensibilities and made it okay to have a song you could consider “our song” without it being a trite, boring ballad. Just Julian and an acoustic guitar, talking about two things coming together and being better for it, culminating with “one me” and “one you.” No rope or crazy glue as with the previous examples. Just the promise that if they’d stick together, they’d be better than ever. I performed this song at my high school talent show during my senior year, dedicating it to my then girlfriend, now wife Emily. We danced to this at our wedding reception. It was a family favorite because of its sweetness. It’s just a pure, unadulterated, innocent song about love. Not fucking or getting down or making love. Just love. There should be more of this in the world. Whether Julian believes it or not.

20. Jimmy Eat World – Polaris

Futures came out in 2004, after Emily and I had spent a near-lifetime listening to Bleed American. The cd didn’t leave the car stereo for months on end. But then we had heard they were putting out a new album, Emily and I were worried. We constantly just said to ourselves “don’t suck… Don’t suck…” as we popped the cd in, and to our complete relief, we had another winner on our hands. One of the songs that truly touched us in ways both appropriate and inappropriate, was “Polaris.” To me, it’s another pure song. One that would be thrown off balance if there were anything more or less. It’s a pop soundscape. It also has the distinction of being the one song Emily wished to walk down the aisle to with her father during our wedding. It’s going to forever be a part of our lives, so long as I can look at Emily “and know the world is beautiful.”

21. The Gaslight Anthem – Here’s Looking At You, Kid

The wedding night wasn’t without it’s ups and downs. But all in all it was fine. One of the gifts we received was from a friend of ours, John Gallienne. Manics fan before we knew him, Gaslight Anthem and Hold Steady fan before we knew of them, he gave us a wedding day mix. Mixed with songs about leaving Ohio (which we were to do a few days later with his help), songs to remind us of Dayton, songs that reminded him of us, and some choice “bedroom songs” (“Debra” by Beck, “Fire” by Electric Six, etc., etc.). The final track on the mix was the second to last song from The Gaslight Anthem’s second album, “Here’s Lookin’ At You, Kid.” The song connected with the both of us on our way up to Chicago, prompting us to keep it on repeat for most of the way. It touched us. It’s a poignant song about loves lost and regret for those relationships. The last verse sealed the deal for me. And that’s how it goes.

Tags: The Eternal Mixtape Project

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