Sounds like Winning!

Ok, so this is going to be my 4th consecutive post not dedicated to girls. Shocking, I know.

This post is about Winning. Possibly the best band you've never heard.

Captain Beefheart changed my life, or at least the way I listen to music. I think that the new Winning album is possibly better than Beefheart's opus, "Trout Mask Replica". (The history behind Trout Mask Replica is long, and insane, and way too much to get into here. Suffice to say that it pops up on many critics all-time best of lists, including Lester Bangs, John Peel, and Rolling Stone magazine's lists before they became the rag they are today...)

Winning are my friends. Andy Dixon. Greg Adams. Paul Patko.

I've always had friends in bands. Some good, some not so good, some bordering on great (I wouldn't know any of these 3 guys if it weren't for my obsession with The Winks).

I've listened to the new Winning album approximately 40 times now. I don't do that often. Maybe twice a year.

That No Age album that everyone loved last year wishes it were as good as this album (if that boring No Age album took human form and started listening to records, that is).

This is the album that Radiohead would make if they had 1/1000th of the balls this album does, and if the drumming for Radiohead wasn't as robotic as fucking Johnny 5 (cultural references are good, kids).

This is the album that Pitchfork, the Gods of all that is right and good in music, should be giving a 9-point-something rating to, and lauding as "the next great noiseniks for the post-whatever generation."

This is the album that should be played front to back in its entirety at the ATP festival in Germany, or England, or wherever those things take place, 15-20 years from now.

I think I like it more than my favourite Sonic Youth album.

I definitely like it more than my favourite The Fall album.

I know that every album is a part of you after you've heard it. I think this album is all the best parts of me. The part that used to spin in circles to stumble around in a field, before I'd ever gotten drunk or cared to. The part that would light matches just to watch them burn. The part that used to not step on cracks, ever.

This album might just change my life.