You always hear people saying how inspirational they find Oprah or some rich person with cancer, but my nearest equivalent is last week when I was inspired to plug a jet of vomit shooting from my throat when I saw John Travolta's look in the Taking of Pelham 123 trailer. Until today, when that incorrigible rake at What Would Tyler Durden Do? let slip that he harbored a mild crush on indie rocker Tanya Donnelly (Belly, Throwing Muses). I totally have one of those, only it's a non-frumpy sexy nerd with no penchant for mu-mus or bad bleach jobs and whose records don't reek: the golden throated (sorry) and possessor of limitless charm Sarah Shannon of Velocity Girl. Best meat-and-potatoes singer in the genre, back when it was not yet pocked with hipster contrarianisms and rich bald pricks. Anyway, Sarah wherever you are, quality work. .
But VG's first record bewildered me cuz Shannon's voice was buried way down in the mix. I think they were going for shoegazer. You spend the entire album subconsciously leaning toward the speakers so as to hear the fucking words. To make matters worse, she splits time with a well-meaning but lunkhead guy who treads sloppily on her nuanced singing. Kinda reminds me of Mike Muir and Rocky George of Suicidal Tendencies. The solos of the latter stretch beyond any bounds of good taste and the former rarely ceases jabbering. And yet ST made at least three classic records. Makes you think.