Test Blog: Rubén Amaro, Jr.: Purveyor of Listlessness

May 5th, 2014- The 2014 Philadelphia Phillies are one game over .500 and one and a half games behind the Atlanta Braves for first place in the NL East. They are fresh off of a 1-0 win from fifth starter Roberto Hernandez in a game that featured a triple from Jimmy Rollins, an RBI single from Chase Utley, and closer Jonathan Papelbon's ninth save in ten opportunities.

All things considered, the Phillies are having an above average spring. They're contending in an admittedly depleted division. Ryan Howard has gotten off to one of his hottest offensive starts since 2008. Cliff Lee continues to piss excellence, or whatever it is other Philly sports blogs have dubbed it. "Marquee" signing Marlon Byrd has been serviceable, if not an asset.

So why does the entire city seem to feel so listless about its baseball team?

To say there was a lack of excitement going into spring training would be an understatement. Sports radio hosts could barely create the dialogue they're paid to manufacture without getting Rubén Amaro or John Kruk on the phone. The conversation continually shifted back to the Eagles. The Desean Jackson saga was a godsend for ratings and dominated the top of the hour chatter through the start of the season.

Amaro has proven himself to be the definition of mediocre throughout his tenure with the Phillies. He inherited the keys to a baseball kingdom full of treasures, and like his predecessor Pat Gillick, has never shied away from making the big move. In many ways, however, most of those "choices" were almost certainly handed down from above. The smaller baseball decisions have presumably been Amaro's alone. At best, they've led to complacency. At worst, they've been atrocious.

It would be flat out asinine to blame Howard's monstrous contract or Rollins' resigning on Amaro while David Montgomery continues to sit comfortably upstairs, letting Amaro's smug face serve as a symbolic punching bag for fans and bloggers alike. To suggest Amaro acted alone in acquiring Halladay or reacquiring Cliff Lee would be foolish. The ownership group hasn't been meek about the return they want on their investment, especially post 2008. In situations where Wade or Gillick may have been handicapped, Amaro has been given the green light to spend well into luxury tax territory.

Amaro's micromanagement has been his true Achilles' Heel. His lack of charisma further harms his reputation.

Papelbon is off to the best start of his Phillies' career and may be returning to form. He's still one of the most unlikeable players to ever wear a Philadelphia uniform. The rest of the bullpen is a mess; it's like playing roulette at Sugar House casino every time Antonio Bastardo or Mike Adams takes the mound. Freddy Galvis, boasting an awe inspiring .032 batting average, is somehow still getting regular playing time.

We're dealing with the most uncharismatic team to grace South Philly since the Ed Wade era. Jimmy Rollins has pronounced himself "untradable" and seems more interested in chasing individual Phillie records than a pennant. Ryan Howard continues to alternate between looking at strike three and attempting to pull balls into the parking lot while showing occasional flashes of his former self. Chase Utley, currently hitting .346, seems destined to come back down to earth. It'll be a minor miracle if he stays healthy through 162 games.

The "feel good" guys Phillies' fans felt compelled to cheer for in the past are gone. There is no Raul Ibanez, Placido Polanco, or Shane Victorino on this club. Marlon Byrd could hit .400 and knock in 100 this year, but he'll still have the pizzaz of a dying fish. Matt Stairs exudes more personality from the press box than the majority of the Phillies' roster.

This team is going to win some ball games. They may even make the playoffs. Just don't expect anyone to notice until July or August.

Even if Papelbon, Byrd, and Hernandez continue to perform to Amaro's expectations, it won't buy the GM much good will. Anything short of a pennant and we're back to square one next season with little to show for it. The cupboard has been stripped bare over the years. There's almost nothing to be excited about in the pipeline. Ken Giles continues to show promise in Reading, but doesn't project to crack the big club bullpen anytime soon. Maikel Franco is 6 for 14 in his last 3 games with one home run and a .206 batting average. Anthony Hewitt is looking more and more like a total bust.

The Phillies are Rubén Amaro's baby. They're built to compete now, but any kind of real run would be unprecedented by MLB standards and in all likelihood change the perception of Amaro and his legacy.

It all seems like a stretch. The hopes and dreams of the team rests solely on Amaro's Heroes, a group of crabby millionaires with World Series rings and misfit veterans with the collective charm of a broken window in Upper Darby. Ladies and gentlemen, your 2014 Philadelphia Phillies.

High hopes!

Test Blog: "Together" We Build

I've recently come to an unsettling revelation regarding my Philadelphia sports fandom: I can no longer support, endorse, or cheer for the 76ers.

As it stands, I actively despise them. 

It's not the team's abysmal style of play that bothers me. Throughout the shitstorm of the 2013-2014 NBA season, the Sixers seemed to battle harder than their putrid record suggests. They lost the lion's share of their games in relatively close fashion. There weren't a ton of blowouts. Brett Brown seemed genuinely invested in fighting futility, God bless his soul. Michael Carter-Williams is a no brainer for Rookie of the Year and arguably the single most exciting talent to don a 76ers jersey since Allen Iverson. 

No, what irks the hell out of me about the current Philadelphia 76ers is the mindset. 

This team is going to be a meticulously crafted pile of dog shit for the next few seasons. The front office has publicly admitted as much. It's a method that has become quite popular in the NBA (and the NHL, to a lesser extent), specifically in the salary cap era: if the current roster isn't built to win, management blows it up, hordes cap space, and tanks for a lottery pick. The Sixers did it this year. They want to do it next year, too. Logic dictates it's a distinct possibility for the indefinite future.

Joshua Harris, Sam Hinkie, and the rest of the Sixers brass want you to embrace this. They want you to smile, say thank you, and then open your mouths and take a big bite of the shit sandwich while they take your picture and put it on Instagram. The audacity of having a slogan like "Together We Build" during one of the worst campaigns in the history of professional sports is infuriating.

"We" aren't building a damn thing. "We" aren't doing anything but intentionally losing games in the hopes of finding one or more 18-22 year old kids who can somehow turn water into win. We're praying to Jesus, Moses, and Satan that these messiahs attract real talent to Philadelphia in support of the youth movement. 

The Philadelphia 76ers want you to accept a losing culture in the hopes that they'll bottom out and return to contention. They want you to be excited about it. They want you to ignore cautionary tales like the Cleveland Cavaliers, who employed this very same methodology and used it to draft the league's best player, yet still can't find their way out of the basement. They want you to believe buying 12 dollar tickets on Stubhub is the equivalent of being a janitor at Google in the late 90s. You're getting in on the ground floor!

Sure, this could all work out in the organization's favor. The NHL's Pittsburgh Penguins are the quintessential example of what can happen when your tank goes right. Sidney Crosby, Marc Andre Fleury, and Jordan Staal were all first overall picks, and Evegeni Malkin was taken second only after Alexander Ovechkin came off the board. They've been perennial contenders and won a Stanley Cup as a result, but only after Yinzer Jesus Mario Lemieux rescued them from a move to Kansas City in 2004. Their fanbase will tell you they were along for the ride in the late 90s and early 2000s, but most can't name 5 roster players from the era. 

As the saying goes: "fuck the Penguins, Crosby sucks." 

The Flyers, for all of their shortcomings, have remained one of the most competitive teams in North American sports for almost their entire existence. Since the first lockout in 1994, they've only missed the playoffs twice. If and when they finally get it done (which is a topic for another blog, of course), it's going to taste much sweeter knowing they didn't have to adopt a losing culture to get there. 

Drafts in professional sports are designed to promote parity. The lesser teams, in theory, receive a quality piece that should help them avoid the lottery in the years to follow. The Sixers are attempting to completely circumvent and abuse this process. Their top pick from last year's draft didn't play a single game. Their other rookie was their single best player. With the exception of Thad Young, who has to consider playing in China a better choice than spending another year in Philadelphia, every other player was traded for second round picks, cap space, and in some instances, absolutely nothing. All of this in the hopes of landing the first ping pong ball and drafting Andrew Wiggins or Jabari Parker.

Wiggins, for all of his talent, couldn't get his team into the Sweet 16, let alone compete for a championship. He's an elite player, by all indications, but not one capable of carrying a team by himself. Parker has proven he's a gamer, but scouts seem mixed on how his game will transfer to the NBA.

How can you cheer for a team knowing they would likely forfeit their entire season if it were legal? How can you spend even a cent of your hard earned coin on anything bearing the team's logo? How can you pretend like the tank never happened when the clouds part? What if those clouds never part?

The scary part about promoting a losing culture is realizing more often than not the culture will permeate. Time will tell if this is the case for the Philadelphia 76ers. Are we willing to forgive Joshua Harris if the franchise turns it around? History suggests winning will bring back the casual fans just as quickly as losing ran them out of the building. 

The answer for me, however, is a resounding no, even if that asshole decides to sell the Devils. 

Test Post: Panaccio: Hartnell and Berube Not Speaking

Somewhere in southern California, two former Flyers are laughing their asses off.

CSN beat writer extraordinaire Tim Panaccio, presumably distressed about having to spend yet another offseason watching his former BFFs Mike Richards and Jeff Carter chase the Stanley Cup, is once again chasing assistant captains out of Philadelphia.

Panaccio, if you'll recall, doesn't have the greatest track record when it comes to player rapport. Timmy's knack for stirring the shit eventually helped uncover the "Dry Island" scandal that rocked the Jersey Shore and Center City a few years back while simultaneously engaging in a twitter war with Richards, who accused Panaccio of writing "articles that are nowhere close to true".

So far, there are no reports suggesting Craig Berube revived Dry Island during the Flyers' series with the Rangers, but if he did, Scott Hartnell missed the memo.

In fact, Hartnell may have missed a couple of Berube's memos, because according to Panaccio, the two are not speaking to one another.

The displaced redhead of the famed "Ginger Line" is apparently dying his beard somewhere in the depths of Berube's shitlist. Panaccio's latest piece of tabloid fare, published yesterday on csnphilly.com, suggests Hartnell is furious about being demoted to the fourth line and forced to play with Vincent Lecavalier, perhaps the only Flyer more overpaid than himself.

Hartnell took to his twitter to dispel the rumors:

"not true at all BUCKO"

Direct hit! Panaccio, likely infuriated with being referred to by his childhood nickname, responded almost immediately.

"believe what you want"

Bucko has truly upped his game since running Richie and Carts out of town. He's using twitter's informal language and complete lack of grammar to his advantage, all the while keeping his defensively vague tone intact. His casualness suggests he's a reporter with nothing to lose, and he won't let silly journalistic trends like citations and attributed quotes stand in his way.

Whether or not there is any actual merit to Panaccio's claim is irrelevant. What matters is that he now has a story to run with while his former nemeses chase another cup in Los Angeles.

This is the stuff trade fodder is made of, folks. Strap in and prepare yourselves for daily trade "rumors" involving Hartnell, Shea Weber, Dustin Byfuglien, and the third Schenn brother you didn't know existed. It's going to be a summer of "silence that speaks volumes" from Berube, Homer, and co.

Tim Panaccio is here for you every step of the way, or at least every other day, assuming he doesn't decide to have Sarah Baicker run Buzzfeed-style lists about Ray Emery and Cal Heeter instead.

Do us all a favor, BUCKO, and have some of your Russian Mob buddies plant some coke on Andrew MacDonald so we're not stuck with six more years of porous defensive end turnovers.

Panaccio, by the way, still has yet to confirm or deny his suspected involvement with the Russian Mafia. Silence speaks volumes.

Future Los Angeles King Scott Hartnell could not be reached for comment.

TEST POST: How the Flyers Ruined Erik Gustafsson

The Philadelphia Flyers' press box is where NHL defensemen go to die.

For the past few years, the upper levels of the Wells Fargo Center have seen their fair share of aging vets: Pavel Kubina, Kurt Foster, Andreas Lilja, and the much maligned (and maimed by twitter users across the Delaware Valley) Hal Gill, to name a few. Erik Gustafsson, at the ripe age of 25, has spent FIFTY SIX games shooting the shit with Sam Carchidi and Frank Seravalli this season alone.

Gustafsson, now in his fourth season with the Flyers, had split time between Adirondack and Philadelphia in his previous three. 2013-2014 was supposed to be the year the young Swede would finally see enough ice time to iron out the bumps in his pro game. After a stellar run as a top pairing defenseman for Sweden in their gold medal run at the 2013 World Championships, armchair GMs and local media alike had "Gus" penciled in as the Flyers' sixth defensemen going forward. On paper, his game looked like a perfect fit for the big club: a young, mobile puck mover with second power play unit potential and the ability to soften the quickly aging (and similarly undersized) Kimmo Timonen's minutes.

It didn't work out that way.

Gustafsson didn't suit up for any of Peter Laviolette's final games behind the Flyer bench. He managed to hit the ice in 31 of Craig Berube's 79 games, but beyond a 5 and 8 game stretch in October and November, respectively, never managed to crack the lineup for an extended period. In those 13 games, Gus had 5 points and was a +3 while averaging around 17 minutes of ice time. Not particularly notable, but more than serviceable for a 25 year old third pairing player.

Certainly more than serviceable for a player that held the distinction of being the Flyers best (only?) defensive prospect before the recent signings of Robert Haag, Sam Morin, and Frozen Four MVP Shayne Gostisbehere.

Still, Gustafsson has only seen 11 games in 2014, and no more than 3 consecutively. He's a +5 with 5 points this calendar year.

With the addition of Andrew MacDonald and the relative health of the Flyers' blueline this season, it's not all that surprising that Gustafsson couldn't secure a regular spot in the lineup. What is surprising is the nonchalant attitude the Flyer organization has shown in terms of developing their own defensive talent.

Gus has spent most of his time at the rink getting his ear chewed off by beat writers and veterans in the twilight of their career while a floundering cast of glorified dinosaurs (Kubina, Lilja, Gill) and defensive miscreants (Andrej Meszaros, Bruno Gervais) ate big minutes for the Orange and Black.

What exactly, then, are the Flyers looking for out of Gustafsson?

"I don't think I'm looking for anything more than what he's capable of," said Berube earlier this month. "Confidence comes from playing. I think a lot of times, confidence comes from knowing that you're in every night."

By that logic, it should be to the surprise of no one that Gustafsson has struggled to piece together a real semblance of consistency in his game. Defensemen are notorious for taking much longer to develop than forwards. In Philadelphia, they don't develop at all.

Despite his strong showing at the World's last year, Gus wasn't expected to get top pairing minutes. He was, however, expected to be able to crack the line up for an extended period of time and be given the opportunity to iron out the kinks in his pro game and ideally flesh out some of his offensive potential.

Instead, he was shuffled back to the press box at the first hint of a gaffe to be taught lessons in being a consummate professional from consummate professional Hal Gill. When an injury to Nick Grossmann opened up a spot in the line up, that spot went to the only man who has spent more time with Carchidi and Co. than the young defenseman: Hal Gill.

Gustafsson may not have been a difference maker in Game 5, but recent history suggests he wouldn't have been a minus player.  Gill, for his part, was a -2 and directly responsible for at least one Ranger goal.

Realistically, the trials and tribulations of Erik Gustafsson will be nothing but a footnote in Flyers history. He'll probably continue to be a fringe player under this management and coaching group if resigned as a restricted free agent, and it more than likely won't affect their long term success. However, with guys like Morin and Gostisbehere waiting in the wings, the Flyers are going to need to seriously reevaluate how they develop homegrown defensive talent. Handing out huge contracts to stopgap guys like MacDonald equates to lodging a piece of chewing gum in a leaky hose. Sure, he'll patch the hole for a short period of time, but it's not a long term fix. Eventually, you're going to end up soaked.

The Flyers are going to have to give regular ice time for extended periods of time to these guys if they hope for them to become star caliber players (or even serious minute eaters) at the pro level. They're going to take time to develop in the NHL, and they're going to quickly outgrow the AHL just like Gus did. Hopefully, the coaching staff won't take the same shortsighted approach in delegating ice time.

Erik Gustafsson needs to be a cautionary tale towards changing the organizational standard.

REVIEW: Marriages "Kitsune"

Read the full review on Stereokiller.com

"With only one EP under their collective belt and exactly one trek of the proper (read: beyond the state of California) United States, it would be easy to label Los Angeles' dreampop three-piece Marriages as yet another upstart act in the shoegaze revival of the current decade. The reality, of course, is that vocalist/guitarist Emma Ruth Rundle and bassist Greg Burns have both spent the better part of their lives toiling around with some rather notable acts, culminating in their work with post-rock innovators Red Sparowes..."

REVIEW: Bayside "Cult"

Read the full review on Stereokiller.com

"For well over 10 years and six full length albums, Bayside has consistently pumped out a catalog of music that, for better or worse, could only be produced by Bayside. Their sound has become defined: soaring vocal melodies, an upbeat and driving rhythm section, and virtuoso-esque guitar work that at times could make even the most shred-heavy metal band blush. After a four record stint with Victory Records and a one album experiment with major label Wind-Up, Bayside has never faltered with their formula. This presents a conundrum of sorts for long time listeners: with a sound that hasn't' changed much over a decade, how well does their angst ridden approach still resonate with a fan base that now largely consists of college graduates and consumers who have already digested 5 records (along with an acoustic album and an EP of covers) worth of their music?"

REVIEW: Alcest "Shelter"

Read the full review on Stereokiller.com

"2014, not unlike 1992, appears to be the year of shoegaze. Just as "90s emo" was last year, it is the buzzword of choice for up and coming acts, regardless of how much or how little they may have in common with the forefathers of the genre. Deafheaven doesn't really sound much like Chapterhouse or Lush, no matter what their press releases and countless reviewers may lead listeners to believe, and it appears the title may be a misnomer for France's Alcest as well..."

REVIEW: I Am the Avalanche "Wolverines"

Read the full review on Stereokiller.com

"It's truly hard to believe that I Am The Avalanche has been kicking for a decade now. Stranger, still, is it difficult to fathom that with their breakthrough third record "Wolverines", I Am The Avalanche have surpassed the lifetime of vocalist Vinnie Caruana's seminal Long Island pop punk group The Movielife. Yet here we are in 2014, digesting IATA's most important record yet..."

Hello!

My name is Rich Anthony. I'm a 20-something fledgling author floating around the great state of Pennsylvania. I review records for Stereokiller.com on a part time basis. Here on Swooshgazer, you'll find various reviews of shows and records, as well as news and consumables (songs, videos, etc), posted by myself and some of my friends and peers. This blog exists to fill a void in today's music "journalism". In a world of instant information, it seems we've lost the art of in depth music critique. Music, in itself, is art in one of its purest forms, and our mission statement is to insure that our writing is based on the actual absorption of this art, rather than a few listens in-passing or a previous relationship with the artist. Thanks for reading.

If you'd like to be featured on swooshgazer, please contact me at weallhaveplots@gmail.com.

REVIEW: Nothing "Guilty of Everything"

Nothing-Guilty of Everything

(2014, Relapse)

1. Hymn to the Pilory

2. Dig

3. Bent Nail

4. Endlessly

5. Somersault

6. Get Well

7. Beat Around the Bush

8. B&E

9. Guilty of Everything

In early 1990, British critic Steve Sutherland wrote a piece for Melody Maker about a new sound quickly enveloping London and surrounding areas. The cacophony of washed out guitars, drenched in reverb and delay, was already being referred to as "shoegazing", a nod to the physical stance its purveyors took while performing. Sutherland, taking note of the incestual nature of many of these acts, referred to it as "the scene that celebrates itself". Bands like Chapterhouse, Lush, and Slowdive (the Jawbreaker equivalent of shoegaze folklore) were a tight knit group that often attended each others' shows and routinely filled in for one another at various gigs to little fanfare.

Flash forward to 2014: 20 years after the breakup and subsequent return of Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine, a new generation of musicians have seemingly come full circle and rediscovered this small British subsect of noise. Philadelphia's Nothing, led by former Horror Show frontman Dominic Palmero, represent the prototypical makeup of today's shoegaze groups. The band has featured a rotating cast of characters over the years (including frequent tourmate and Whirr mainman Nick Bassett) and toured nationally with acts such as Deafheaven (who, if you've been a sleeping under a rock, are probably the most critically acclaimed group since the fucking Beatles), garnering a buzz that eventually leads us to the release of Guilty of Everything on Philadelphia's own Relapse Records. 

Guilty of Everything harkens back to the glory days of noisy rock and roll, forgoing contrived attempts at innovation in favor of mastering their chosen craft. First single and standout track "Dig" is a four minute audial version of the "shoegaze" Wikipedia page, covering the entire spectrum of the genre. From the dual male/female lead vocal buried underneath a wall of guitar to the distorted bass line, Nothing immediately time warps to 1992, presumably opening up for Ride in a smokey Reading pub.

"Bent Nail" and "Get Well" up the tempo and imply a heavy Chapterhouse influence. "Get Well", in particular, wears the band's hardcore punk influences on its sleeve. The track demonstrates why shoegaze is the next logical step for bored hardcore kids; it's loud and introspective, and its power lies within its dynamics. Never loud for the sake of being loud, Nothing rely heavily on deafening melodies and powerful crescendos for the majority of GoE.

Standout track "Somersault" explores the full spectrum of these dynamics, ending with a chilling decrescendo that couples a thumping floor tom and droning feedback. Poshlost holdover "B&E" features a prominent lead guitar melody, a device Nothing and their peers employ often in favor of letting vocals carry tracks. However, when Nothing ventures away from the confines of layering, they truly shine. Title track "Guilty of Everything" is led by an opening clean guitar, highlighting the beauty and simplicity of Palmero's songwriting before erupting into a river of noise that cascades for a full two minutes before the album abruptly ends.

Nothing are, for better or for worse, the quintessential act of the shoegaze revival. While fellow "nugaze" standouts Alcest and Deafheaven attempt to push the proverbial envelope by mixing genres (black metal, in both cases, and dreampop in the case of Alcest's latest), Nothing seems more interested in the art of the pop song. They are the new Slowdive, for all intents and purposes, a comparison which Palermo would likely welcome (although he did refer to Slowdive frontman Neil Halstead as "kind of a fucking cunt" in a recent Noisey interview). Indeed, while members often give praise to the scene's forefathers in interviews, it is clear Nothing and their peers are more interested in furthering their own takes on the genre than living in comparison of their influences. They will continue to celebrate each other via touring, adulating Facebook posts and meddling side projects such as Death of Lovers, a joint Whirr/Nothing project that, like Nothing themselves, is still very much in its infancy. 

If the quality of Guilty of Nothing is any indication of what's to come, the Americanized "nugaze" revolution is poised to grow even bigger this year.