"Why so serious?" This famous and memorable quote is etched on my mind. How did the Joker get his scars and what de(formed) him? There are, at least, two alternative stories which are equally cruel and gruesome. The veracity of the stories are shrouded in mystery since they are both told by the notoriously elusive Joker. The main reason to why this quote is etched on my mind is that I really admire seriousity. Coupled with dedication it's adorable. However, seriousity and dedication is a very dangerous combination and can, wrongly balanced, get out of hand. I could compile a long list where things have gone really wrong. Seriousity is considered desirable and most people want to be treated in a serious way. I'm very serious about this website. However, I do hope I'm on the right side of the tipping point. I'm happy if someone finds my work interesting or amusing. Maybe even occasionally laugh. Then I've succeeded. What's so funny? Well, maybe nothing. "Why so serious? Let's put a smile on that face!"      

For a dedicated collector of rare cds like myself there's nothing more frustrating than an infinite set. You will survive knowing that you probably never will complete a collection, but it's unbearable not knowing if an album has been released or not (and, in theory, are in circulation). Specifically, I have the Devil's Ruin Records (DRR) label in mind, read more here (opens in a new window). You may now ask the obvious question: how hard can it be to figure this out? Let me tell you about it. I've spent many hours searching, comparing, triangulating, double-checking, speculating and rejecting. It's an advantage to have a monomanic disposition and be disinclined to changes. If you put in the time, the results will come. That's what the management textbook says, anyway. Despite the huge effort, the facts and evidence are inconclusive. Further research is needed. But, this year I actually made a major breakthrough. Six months ago, a large part of the DRR catalogue came up for sale on Discogs. I quickly purchased five albums (see image). It cost me a lot of money (price, registered shipping, import tax and fees) and is by far the most expensive purchase ever for me, but it was worth every penny. Never seen the cds for sale before. The knowledgeable seller gave me information about the last remaining days of the label that could be used for narrowing the gap between an infinite and finite set. Let's start with the basics. Discogs (reputable website and crowdsourced database) has 37 DRR-albums listed. After the above-metioned purchase I have 34 of them. One of three missing albums is JB Nelson's "Animal Extracts". According to Discogs no one else has a copy either. With reference to unconfirmed information on internet I asked the seller about a few other "DRR-albums" not listed on Discogs. Among them, two JB Nelson albums "A Letter To My Enemies" and "Animal Index". The seller replied: "The last order I made with Devil's Ruin was those two JB Nelson CDs. The guy soon disappeared and never sent them to me. According to JB Nelson, he has a copy of each. But I don't think anyone else does. It's sad. JB later released them on DIY CDR." This part of the mystery is hereby solved. The empirical evidence supports this. The albums were re-released on Cheap Wine Records. I also asked the seller about Botanica “Who You Are”, reportedly releasead on Devil’s Ruin Records, May 25th 2010. The seller replied: "Botanica I think was a "Special release". If you paid a certain amount a year you would get an exclusive release each month. Those releases never came out as far as I know. Some others that were supposed to be exclusive were "Before You Die..." and "Death's Head Hearth". Since I lack all boundaries when it comes to hard-to-find cds I contacted all three bands in this matter. I got a reply from "Before You Die..." and "Death's Head Hearth" with the same message. They never saw a glimpse of any album. I assume this goes for Botanica as well. If that is the case then this solves the other part of the mystery. This means both clarification and relief. I can probably forget the three JB Nelson albums and conserve my resources to the other two missing albums. What makes DRR so fascinating? The label was active between 2008-2010 and released over 30 albums of which five were compilations. The high production rate has an explanation. A reliable source revealed the story behind. It's expensive to make professional cds. Reportedly, the owner had direct access to pressing equipment. Therefore, he managed to press both quickly and a whole bunch. The copies were cheap. On Discogs, all but three DRR-albums are listed as cds. According to my source they're all cdr. Devil's Ruin Records went belly up in 2010. The owner vanished from the face of the earth. Another obscure detail. When the pressing equipment wasn't used for making DRR-albums it was used for making pornography. Well, the Devil's in the details. 

Another lamb to the slaughter. Internet radio and social networking website 8tracks closed down with short notice. On 26 December 2019, 8tracks announced the cessation of their service effective 31 December 2019. 8tracks revolved around the concept of streaming user-curated playlists consisting of at least 8 tracks. Users could create free accounts and could either browse the site and listen to other user-created mixes, and/or create their own mixes. I liked the concept where people put in their time and effort to create personal lists, writing witty notes and adding evocative images. The gothic country genre stood out. Well, who is to blame? David Porter, CEO and founder of 8tracks did not mince his words in a farewell e-mail to all users. "We've fallen behind in royalty payments because our revenues have declined as a result of a steady drop in listening activity, which is in turn largely due to Spotify's cannibalization of our audience with ever-better lean-back playlist offerings (like Discover Weekly) and its ability to offer listeners both lean-back and on-demand streaming "under one roof." Spotify, so much to answer for. I do hate streaming, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Now comes the humiliating part. Not only did Spotify eat 8tracks alive. They were chewed up, digested, spit out and eaten again. 8tracks obviously found themselves between a rock and a hard place. Save the 8tracks lists for posterity or lose them forever? 8tracks gave their users the opportunity to migrate playlists to Spotify or to save the tracklist to a .txt file. I'm proud to say that I chose the latter. It was manual labour. I managed to save 51 "gothic country", 71 "dark americana", 78 "dark country", 28 "death country", 240 "gothic americana" and 18 "gothic folk" lists before 8tracks closed down. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time and lacked the energy and endurance to download the 2 431 lists tagged "Southern Gothic". On the other hand, you would be shocked and appalled if you knew what some people consider as "Southern Gothic". 8tracks is gone, but will not be forgotten.   

 

Sad bastard has a certain ring to it. I think it's safe to say that "sad bastard" is a derogatory term. The academic definition: a person considered to be ludicrously contemptible or pathetic. The colloquial definition: a person who wallows in self-pity. I think you get the general idea. For him - it's always a he - awaits endless disrespect, ridicule, humiliation and mockery. The saddest of all bastards must be Neil Pye, the hippie character in the British sitcom The Young Ones (1982). One example of his sad bastard one-liners: "I won't say anything 'cause no one ever listens to me, anyway. I might as well be a Leonard Cohen album." No one wants to be, or admit that they are, a sad bastard. At least, not openly or publicly. However, I'm a sad bastard. Rather that than a happy jerk. I have always had a very strong suspicion against people that like happy or upbeat music. Why? Well, Patrick Bateman liked Huey Lewis and The News in "American Psycho", didn't he? It seems like people are hiding something behind their happy façade and forced smile. Sad isn't bad. A developed emotional setup isn't wrong. There's more to sad music than sadness. Sad music actually makes you happy, read more here (opens in a new window). This academic finding sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it's true. Moreover, the scientific community think that they found the answer to why we love sad songs, read more here (opens in a new window). The gothic country genre is filled to the brim with sad bastards. One bastard is sadder than the other. But where did term "sad bastard" come from? The term was maybe not coined, but definitely popularized, by the film adaption of Nick Hornby's book High Fidelity (2000). This is heavy irony, since I kind of like this feel-good movie. The "sad bastard" scene is hilarious. Rob (record store owner) is heartbroken and not fit for purpose, Dick (record store assistant and fact-oriented music lover is treading on eggshells) and Barry (record store assistant and fact-resistant music lover is not knowing and, if he knew, not caring) are trying to handle the awkward situation. Here is the dialogue in its entirety: 
Rob: "What's this?"
Dick: "It's the new Belle And Sebastian. Do you like it?" 
Barry: "What the fuck is this?"
Dick: "It's the new Belle And Sebastian"  
Rob: "It's the record we've been listening to and enjoying, Barry"  
Barry: "Well that's unfortunate, because it sucks ass!"
[Barry takes off the tape, and replaces it with another - Katrina And The Waves' Walking On Sunshine.] 
Rob: "Turn it off, Barry."
Barry: "Sorry, "it won't go any louder."
[Rob switches the tape off.] 
Barry: "OK, I was just trying to cheer us up. So go ahead - put on your old sad bastard music. See if I care."
Rob: "I don't want to hear old sad bastard music, Barry. I just want something I can ignore."

Christmas Day. Ten years ago today, dark americana artist Vic Chesnutt died from an overdose of muscle relaxants that had left him in a coma. Whether his death was accidental or not isn't important. More important is his impact. His music has been described as "skewed, refracted version of Americana that is haunting, funny, poignant, and occasionally mystical, usually all at once". Read the article about Vic here (opens in a new window). Vic Chesnutt was a productive artist and released 14 albums under 19 years: "Little" (1990), "West of Rome" (1991), "Drunk" (1993), "Is The Actor Happy?" (1995), "About To Choke" (1996), "The Salesman And Bernadette" (1998), "Merriment" (2000), "Left To His Own Devices" (2001), "Silver Lake" (2003), "Ghetto Bells" (2005), "North Star Deserter" (2007), "Dark Developments" (2008), "At The Cut" (2009) and "Skitter On Take-off" (2009). I have all albums in the cd format. 14 albums constitute an impressive production. However, according to Soundscan (official information and sales tracking system), he sold - in total - 104 000 copies, which is not even 7 500 copies per album. This is simply outrageous. In addition, at the time of his passing he peaked artistically. The albums "North Star Deserter" and "At The Cut" clearly showcased this fact. In the above-mentioned article I presented a playlist with his absolute best songs (which amounted to 33). Initially, I planned that the memorial playlist below should consist of "the best of the absolute best". Instead, I decided to do a new list with none of the 33 songs. And it's still an exquisite list. The list ends with "Grim Augury". A man awakes from a nightmare. His wife accuses him of being with someone “during the dream” and wants to know who she is. He denies forcefully and then reluctantly tells her the truth. Some stones are best left unturned. Horrible stuff, indeed. Vic Chesnutt wasn't afraid of turning any stones. In an interview for the New York Daily News in 2005 he declared: "Other people write about the bling and the booty. I write about the pus and the gnats. To me, that's beautiful." I unequivocally agree.