Discount - Crash Diagnostic

Now here's an entry that won't appeal to any semi-regular of this blog, but hey, I'm sure all of us have certain fixes of less than eccentric pop to keep us sane between AMM and Gerogerigegege rotations. Don't be too judgmental, a'ight?
Today's principal textual and aural dish is the swansong of Florida punk/pop unisex overlords Discount, and more importantly, an album so chock full of nostalgia for yours truly, it's biochemically saturated with those emotions for all outsiders to partake. That's how sentimental attachment works, right?
Anyway, this was a bit of a sonic detour for the group (possibly a dead end) who up until this point grounded their sound primarily in the Crimpshrine, J Church, and East Bay territories. Crash Diagnostic is pretty evenly split between the sparkling, adorable pop-punk of yesterday with an angular, subtle, post-hardcore coldness lifted straight from the guts of Fugazi and Fuel. I'll admit, the stylistic divide can be a little rough on the ears at first, but the songs themselves are just appealing enough to have sent me back for another listen. Perhaps you, the deadeningly unintrigued reader might agree!

The main attraction for me has always been the playful, untrained vocals of Alison Mosshart (later of the primordial garage dumbness of The Kills and associate of Jack "Musically Gifted" White), whose lyrics have always diced me up despite basically being stream-of-consciousness ramblings I'm probably unqualified to be touched by. A masculinity compromising formula I've discovered seems to be the track "Math Won't Miss You" paired with the scent of peach-deodorant. Suddenly, I'm flooded with angsty Junior-year and have shamed my bloodline with public weeping.

http://www.mediafire.com/?dm2mon4t4yt

If you like this, which you don't because you're this blog's demograph (if you exist), then their first two albums are pretty swell, too.

Also: I just found out today that the owner of my semi-local record store finally kicked it after a way-too-lengthy bout with fuckin' brain cancer. I feel indebted to this dude for introducing me to everything from the Deviants and Simply Saucer to Albert Ayler and Sun Ra. He was a genuinely interesting and personable guy, and I'll miss the rambling conversations and accounts of live Beefheart shows and the like.
RIP Jack