Courtney Love • Uncrushworthy
This past Monday, we profiled a new band out of England named Big Deal. Really, if you didn’t listen to them then, you should now—they’re great. But, in writing, we also touched on our musical roots in the early nineties indie pop scene and how that seemed to have shaped not only our current musical tastes, but our lives to a certain extent. We met so many people in those formative years through this framework of independent music that, itself, was obviously built on these inherent, basic beliefs—freedom and self-reliance and community and self-expression and many of the aspects of what we now consider to be a life well-lived; ideas that we ended up building our lives around. So this music that shaped who we became, as it turns out, is obviously something that remains close to our hearts to this day.
We also mentioned Monday that said regular post—The Song—was traditionally more keen on being inspired by the past via new musical finds, less so in being rooted in history or acting as a retrospective itself.
Tonight’s post, however, has no such qualms with nostalgia. Tonight, we give you—Seven Inch Sunday. I know: “A post on the WEEKEND‽ WHA‽” But we’re suckers for alliteration. Don’t expect these to be too regular, Reader—it is the day of rest, after all. But we did happen to recently acquire a new turntable in the office with the ability to record in stereo and then output to MP3s, so we we’d take this opportunity to share a little glimpse of our musical past.
Lois Maffeo is one of those artists whose talent was greatly admired among a small community, but whose work never reached nearly as many ears as it should have, in my humble opinion. Though she had an extensive solo career and many (some might say) more musically mature or complex songs down the road, I was always enamored with her early work with drummer and Yo Yo Studio founder, Pat Maley, under the somewhat tricky moniker, Courtney Love. Back in the day, the name was evidently quite the controversy, with actual Courtney Love reportedly attacking K Records‘ Calvin Johnson for releasing records under her (not real) name and conflicting accounts of Lois and Courtney coming up with the name together vs. Lois stealing Courtney’s diary and finding it there. Regardless, put me down for Team Lois.
Better Courtney Love (pictured above) existed only from 1989 to 1991, but in that time they released 3 seven inches, appeared on about one million compilations, and set the groundwork for a scene that was just emerging in Olympia and across the country. Their 1990 debut, also pictured above, was Uncrushworthy, a simple, lovely 45 featuring four indie pop staples—”Uncrushworthy,” “Sunny Day,” “Motorcycle Boy,” and “The 2nd Most Beautiful Girl in the World.” We’ve got the first and last ones for you here (my favorites), but we strongly encourage you to check out Lois’ extensive musical career if you’re unfamiliar. And, better still, she’ll be playing one of the Brooklyn Chickfactor we mentioned on Monday. It’s sold out, but maybe you can sneak in. Or just be nearby, absorbing the massive indie-radiation emanating from the Bell House that night.
