Xgau Sez: March, 2025

Music of the True North, boxing days, the Bobbsey Twins as vocabulary builders, no soul radio (see also: Mark. 8 Verses 34 to 38), patriotic verb clusters, and remembering David Johansen.

Now that we are on the brink of war with Canada, I share with you my Canad8:

1. Kate & Anna McGarrigle

2. Rush

3. Neil Young

4. Joni Mitchell

5. Leonard Cohen

6. Sarah Slean

7. Loreena McKennitt

8. Arcade Fire

Safe assumption that you never warmed up to Rush—even after Geddy’s register dropped an octave or two—but I argue that they had a great run from Hemispheres to Signals, with some listenable albums here-and-there otherwise. You gave Loreena McKennitt a dud, but I found myself more and more curious, as she often ventured into early Celtic music and tales. — Adam S. Fenton. Menifee, California

Young, Mitchell, McGarrigles, to a somewhat lesser extent Cohen—titans all. And right, Rush are to a much much lesser extent my kind of band—my tastes jn rock obviously run more punk/new wave, although the Guess Who played a minor role in my 1969 breakup with Ellen Willis (“Undun” was key at that moment) and I also found Bachman-Turner Overdrive OK. But really, give me the New Pornographers, Tokyo Police Club, recently Pony. Plus some great rappers: K’naan, Backxwash, and last but also very near the top of this graf the great Buck 65.

I used to treasure your December Consumer Guides in the 1990s because they featured the best reissues of the year. Re-reading some of them lately, I notice that your introduction always mentioned how you focused on single disc (or sometimes two-CD sets) instead of box sets. Nevertheless, you have reviewed several box sets over the years and my question relates to box sets. Assuming that you own a lot more box sets than those you’ve reviewed, what are one or two or three boxes that you’re glad are on your shelves, even though they may not be worth reviewing, and why? — Henry T, Flushing

A quick count indicates that I have going on 60 box sets in my office and another 30 or so in the hall. There may be more somewhere. I don’t recall buying a single one, though there may be a few exceptions—just about every one arrived in the mail free, usually back in the good old review-copy days. I keep them primarily because they orient me as nothing else could when I want to write about one of the artists a collection compiles. The only ones I play with the slightest regularity are the two Armstrongs—Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a career-spanning omnibus, and The Complete Hot Five and Hot Seven Recordings, which documents his ‘20s stuff. I don’t play them because a choice album or sometimes two or even three will sate my hunger and curiosity (and/or maybe prove a special delight for Carola or Nina).

One of the benefits I’ve received from reading you for 40-plus years is that my vocabulary has been expanded due to your penchant for using arcane language at times. From who else would I have learned “prognathous” from an Aerosmith review or “lagniappe” while checking your thoughts on a Warren Zevon record? Nobody, that’s who. Do you just have a natural gift for absorbing and retaining obscure vocabulary or have you always had a thesaurus (or open thesaurus tab) by your side. I suspect the former, but am curious. — Bob Kannen, Brattleboro, Vermont

From first grade, where I quickly learned to read well enough to devour all my mom’s old Bobbsey Twins books, I’ve had a large vocabulary for my age, because my reading did not stop with the Bobbsey Twins. I’ve always read a lot. That said, however, “prognathous” I must have come upon while doing my best to nail a metaphor. “Lagniappe,” however, has been in my recall vocabulary for decades. Have no idea why or how. But I don’t use big words to impress; I use what I regard as the most apt under the circumstances, which can vary enormously.

I have two questions; the first is simply a request. Please get out of politics and stop insulting the President. You have done nothing tangible for this country and worship a band called Wussy. No comparison. And you have no idea how despicable and damaging your ideologies are or how deficient your understanding. My question is this: Where will you go when you “check out”? I’ve read your work for years and value it highly, but I’m truly concerned for your soul. — William C. Kittrell, Byhalia, Mississippi

I believe that when I die I will survive nowhere except in the hearts and minds of my loved ones, friends, and admirers. But I’m aware that no living human has any way to be certain that there’s no such thing as life after death, although if there is it will certainly not be life as physical humans experience it. As for the president (literate humans do not capitalize it as a noun as opposed to title, a grammatical usage I’m sure sticks in the barely literate motherfucker’s craw in the unlikely event that he’s aware of it at all): He’s a vindictive, pathologically resentful, racist greedhead—evil, as I have not the slightest doubt the God whose existence I think so unlikely is all too aware if he’s out there keeping tabs. Value that highly if you will.

Hey Mr. Christgau, America, my sunny and dusty old friend. The cowboys, the horses, and the plains. The bands of brothers. Is this goodbye? — Martin Moeller, Vejle, Denmark

Hope not, but can hardly blame you for asking. To borrow two verb clusters from Talking Points Memo’s Josh Marshall, it’s up to all of us on this side of the Atlantic to defy-delay-undo, to slow-impede-defeat. I’m a patriotic democrat/Democrat. So is almost everyone I know except a few out-and-out leftists. But I don’t know anyone who’s feeling actively confident that we’ll be able to take some deep breaths four years from now.

David Johansen. One of rock’s great characters. An incredibly charismatic entertainer and a hell of a writer and singer. The New York Dolls are bigger and more fun than the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Incomprehensible that they are not inducted. That they even happened, that the group’s fantastic music has been in orbit around the sun for over 50 years, is quite mind-blowing. They feel more and more underrated every time I play their records. It’s music that for me remains as fresh and exciting as ever. My sincere question to you is simple: How will you remember Johansen and what will you miss about him? I admire him for his humor and intelligence, but also for his bravery, his insistence on being who/what he wanted to be where and when, and fuck you if you thought for even a second that you could stand in his way. And I miss him for exact those reasons as well. — Andres, Malmö, Sweden

Amen, brother.