Many thanks to special guest columnist Brent Musburger for taking the time to go to Peter's house and sort through his CD binder. He wasn't invited, but it's the thought that counts.
Folks, I like to think of myself as a man with a song in his heart. Life is a many-splendored thing, and no matter what you're doing, it's nice to have a tune in the background. I've been kicked out of Binion's at 5 a.m., crossed back into the States at Juarez wearing someone else's clothes, and heck, I've shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. The man in black, everyone!
Anyway, I thought I'd give a quick look-see at Peter's CD collection from middle school. And golly, folks, we're talking the late 90s here. Those were salad days for your old pal Brent, but I'm those are stories for another time. This should be more fun than the time I spent 56 straight hours in the Sands with Dan Fouts and Steve Gutenberg.
The Fat Of The Land - Prodigy
I've heard a lot of funny sounds in my lifetime. You should've heard the noise that came out of Herbie's mouth when Marcell Dareus picked off Garrett Gilbert in the 2010 championship game. But partner, I'm just not sure what to make of this one. To be frank, I don't love the language on the first song "Smack My Bitch Up", but it sounds like someone melted Mannheim Steamroller record while it was still on the turntable. Talk about a "Firestarter!" "Breathe" made me tap my toe a little bit, but let's just say that at a run time of 56 minutes, I would've taken the under on this one.
Dookie - Green Day
Hear that? It's the sound of youth in revolt, baby! It's hard-livin', head-bangin', and no grown ups allowed! It's just what the doctor ordered for the teenager who fancies himself -- or herself, we're talking to the young ladies out there too -- a unique person for feeling angst that the world isn't a perfect place. And it's a good thing we're talking about imperfection, because this record is about as imperfect as you can get. It's cut up into neat three minute segments, but there's as many rough outings on this record as Bob Stoops' record on the road at night.
Follow The Leader - Korn
Ed. Note: Please don't tell anyone I ever bought this album, let alone wore it out. It's extremely embarrassing and I don't want anyone to find out.
Folks, I can't make hide nor hair of this stuff. The singer can't make up his mind whether he wants to sound like the toughest guy in the room or cry his eyes out. And what the heck is with all the gibberish? I once went out on a drink for a weekend with Barry Switzer in the spring of 1981, and ol' Barry would say this is all hat and no cattle.
Collective Soul - Collective Soul
I want to level with you folks for a second. I've been around the block a little bit. I mean, I've seen some things that would curdle milk faster than a sunny day on I-10. This is a roundabout way of saying, yes, I may have seen a man being interrogated with his head in a toilet. I'd recognize that sound anywhere, and this whole album sounds like it was recorded with the singer's head buried in a porcelain throne.
Partner, we've all got ghosts. I'm certainly no exception. But growing up while listening to this bunch of baloney, that's the kind of thing that'll show up again in in 15 years and ruin a man's life.