Just a few days into 2012 and I'm already completely sick of having to greet everyone with "happy new year!" I'm going to temporarily revolt by denying not just the future, but also the recent past. A little Television Personalities music should help with that trick. Dan Treacy knew a thing or two about escaping his own time. Clearly, the 1981 in his head looked nothing like the 1981 outside the window. 
Let's stick with angsty rockers, the American variety today. It's a bummer that people of a certain age will never truly emotionally connect with this song. Directing the full weight of pain and anger at, say, voicemail, just wouldn't capture the sense of distance or demonize the machines that emphasize it. And maybe it's me being curmudgeonly, but I think a kid covering this today would sound like a petulant brat. Paul Westerberg got away with it because he's Paul Westerberg.
John Peel famously said that "Teenage Kicks" was his favorite song of all time. Can't argue with the tastes of a legend. And it's right up there for me too. When your aim is this true, it's hard to call it anything but perfection. Pure rock n' roll, topped off with a rare consciousness that these kicks desperately being craved are the special domain of the teenage animal.
Also, a great song sounds great in any language. Including broken English.
Attitude never goes out of style. Sonic Youth may be graybearded and tired ambassadors of NYC music, but their back catalog continues to reward. Charges of selling-out notwithstanding, big-label debut Goo album is a rocker of fine distinction. And Kim's smirking, teasing feminism never sounded so alluring as on this track.
Something about vacationing with a mostly British cast of characters just puts an Anglo playlist in my head. Or maybe I'm just reaching for a segue to this heroic pop nugget, which refuses to be undone by terrible lyrics and silly outro vox. 
I admit I didn't really care too much when Dinosaur Jr reunited a few years back. Still don't. Liked 'em, but never loved 'em. Which I realize diminishes my indie rock bona fides in the eyes of some. That's OK. Mostly, I just want J Mascis to take some Dimetapp already and get rid of that nasal congestion he's had for 30 years. Anyway, here's a rocker that just rocks rockingly all the way from where you been to wherever you're going.
Happy post-holiday. Hope you ate your fill and didn't get sunstroke. Props to my man Carl for deftly executing a killer Memorial Day crawfish boil. Really, eat those guys up while you can. Looks like the oil may be killing the ocean straight through August. But let's not dwell on how screwed we are. Let's rock instead! While we can anyway.
