Grateful for THE SPINS – 8th Edition Featuring Beck

Written by Vinyl Me, Please on October 21, 2016 / The Spins


Eight months ago we could only claim that we had acquaintances across The States.

Eight months later, we can humbly share (and slightly brag) that we have friends across the nation… Thanks to all of you!

When asking ourselves, “How can we get our members together in a community in real life and not only in the digital world?”, you inspired our solution. We had messages from members about inviting friends over to listen to the monthly album and other shared stories about members proactively creating the cocktail of the month at home to serve to guests. Long story short, to support that bond over music and the delightful taste of a crafty liquor concoction that, let’s face it, always brings people together, we launched THE SPINS!

We woke up this morning feeling grateful. Grateful for our members becoming our friends. Grateful for those who work at venues and bars sharing the same vision for bringing vinyl to their space and celebrating music. Grateful for the DJs who still only play vinyl and build extensive collections perfect for a party soundtrack. Grateful for those who just stumble into a The Spins event and curiosity gets them totally involved in the night.

That being said, we wanted to share some highlights of this month’s series that yes, we’re grateful for… (more…)

10 More Essential Blues Albums to Own on Vinyl

Written by Vinyl Me, Please on / The 10 Best

by Dan Reilly


Since we’ve already gone over 10 blues LPs for beginners, we’re back with another 10 to get you even more into the genre, its history and how it connects to the present. This time around, we’ve got more legends and tragic tales, big-name influencers along with some guys who’ve never quite attained the same amount of fame as their peers. It’s a mixed bag that also brings in elements of country, ragtime, folk, gospel, soul, rock and funk, with the common thread of some amazing singing and guitar.


Watch the Tunes: Artifact

Written by Chris Lay on / Watch the Tunes


There is an absurdly vast selection of music movies and documentaries available on Netflix, Hulu, HBO Go, and on and on and on. But it’s hard to tell which ones are actually worth your 100 minutes. Watch the Tunes will help you pick what music doc is worth your Netflix and Chill time every weekend. This week’s edition covers Artifact, which is streaming over on Netflix.

The history of well known actors moonlighting as professional musicians is spotty, at best. The most prominent examples of this odd genre subcategory are Kevin Bacon’s sibling duo the Bacon Brothers, Russell Crowe’s seemingly inappropriately named 30 Odd Foot Of Grunts, and whatever you wanna call Bruce Willis’s late ‘80s dabblings in motor city soul. Of that bunch, you get the sense none exist to be much more than a pressure valve for the famous person at their center, something for them to fuck around with during down time between movies. “Don’t take us tooooo seriously,” they seem to cry out.

Not so with 30 Seconds To Mars, the band that former My So Called Life heartthrob Jared Leto has been fronting, along with his brother Shannon Leto on drums, for damn near fifteen years now. With albums that have gone gold and platinum in America and abroad and half a dozen massive globe-trotting tours, these guys stand head and shoulder over any other half-baked Hollywood “vanity project.” Even after all that legitimate success I still have a hard time taking them seriously, though, which is why I went into their 2012 documentary, Artifact, with as open a heart and mind as I could manage.


Coming to Terms With Kings of Leon, And Their New Album, WALLS

Written by Andrew Winistorfer on / Reviews & Interviews, When You Were Young


Unless you’re lucky, no band remains your favorite band forever. 5th grade’s love of the Beatles turns to 10th grade’s love of Led Zeppelin (and weed) turns to freshman year of college’s love of Wu-Tang Clan turns to 25-year-old you’s love of Animal Collective. This has been a part of modern music fandom since the first Bill Haley fans moved on to something else and he moved on to playing state fairs. Mufasa taught us.

Kings of Leon were my favorite band once. From sometime in 2004 until June 2007. I say this not in embarrassment–though I imagine some of you are chortling–and not as a way to measure myself against some imaginary yardstick. I bought Youth and Young Manhood right after it came out off a Rolling Stone review, only because they called them “the Southern Strokes” and since the Strokes were my favorite band at the time. They sounded cool, and “Molly’s Chambers” became the song most ringing out of my 1995 Dodge Spirit.

Kings of Leon were the only band of that “garage rock revival” that was–to my unpretentious, unlearned Oshkosh, Wisconsin raised self–unpretentious. The story of them being church kids sneaking off to listen to Rolling Stones records was maybe apocryphal, but to me it rang more true than whatever NYC lineage the Strokes were trying to claim, or the weird svengali backstory the Hives tried to force onto their narrative, or the artifice of the White Stripes. They were hayseeds like I was a hayseed; big, dumb idiots with bad haircuts and shitty facial hair writing songs about fucking and trying to fuck and getting fucked up. It was impossible not to be swept up in them; for better or or worse (probably worse) they represented a new version of youth and young manhood that felt more based on doing what you love at all costs than the version practiced by the guys who picked on me in the gym locker room in high school. I didn’t know how the fuck I was ever going to get out of Oshkosh, but I knew that there was this incredible rock band who somehow got out of their bumfuck southern town by convincing RCA to sign them after seeing them play in their garage. (more…)

Vinyl Me, Please Is The Best Damn Record Club