[A] One of the rare grade-niggling questions worth answering. I've been grading albums since 1969, 54 years ago, which is way over 40. There've been three periods in this endeavor. The first was 1969-1989, when in theory the grades ran A plus down to E minus, although grades below C minus and especially D were always very rare. In 1990 I decided I was sick of writing pans and ran only reviews that ran from B plus to A plus, though within a few years Eric Weisbard convinced me to include one "Dud of the Month" in each CG, which could be as high as B minus (was there a B or two in there? don't recall). Then sometime during my Microsoft run I decided to add condensed "Honorable Mentions" marked ***, **, or *, all of which count as B plusses lower than the B plusses I write full graded reviews of, though a few *'s might end up B's were I doing that mental labor. So how many B plusses do we figure that makes now that I've graded somewhere over 15,000 albums and EPs? More than I have any inclination to count even with my webmaster Tom Hull helping--assuming those numbers aren't already hiding in some cranny of the wonderful site that transformed my career. [TH: here] MOREOVER, EVEN IF I COULD COUNT THEM ALL I COULDN'T REMEMBER THEM ALL. And moreover moveover, B plus doesn't mean for fans only. It means not an A but pretty damn good. So how many B plus records do I hear? Not many except when I'm doing retrospective comparisons for an essay or new album review. True, since all B plusses and Honorable Mentions are in what I call my A shelves, which among other things means full jewelbox or original packaging for visibility's sake, picking one out half-blind by feel is always a possibility--happened recently with Timbila's 2010 ** Remembering the Future, which sounded good, like at least a *** and maybe more. But basically, I listen to few B plus albums and very few HMs except when I'm backgrounding for a longer essay. True, I bet I played Garcia when he passed. And I suspect it sounded pretty good. But that was, oof, 28 years ago. So the details are lost forever.

[A] How can I say no? C: Yogi Berra; 1B: Don Mattingly; 2B: Bobby Richardson; 3B: Graig Nettles; SS: Derek Jeter (sorry Phil, I'll never forget you); LF: Dave Winfield; CF: Mickey Mantle (though DiMaggio did hang in there till 1951, I never saw him at his best); RF: Aaron Judge; DH: Reggie Jackson (yah yah A-Rod); RHP: David Cone (fuck Roger Clemens); LHP: Ron Guidry (sorry, Whitey); Relief (duh): Mariano Rivera.

[A] I worry about this stuff, in part because the technological details are so far beyond my ken. But as someone who never got all that upset about Auto-Tune, I find some of the more dire predictions unlikely. Will there be catchy or physically compelling new AI-generated subgenres? Probably, and they could be fun, though I bet some programmers' AIs will generate better results than others. What I'm much more skeptical about is emotionally resonant songwriting. A computer being able to replicate a voice is one thing. Being able to transmute an emotional experience into art is another, because though the appropriate language may be at the AI's disposal, the experience is another story. My favorite AI in art is Kim Stanley Robinson's Pauline in Aurora, who does in the long course of the book experience something like love and something like grief. But those capacities are many years in the making--more years than most human beings can live. And her/its aesthetic response, while real and quite touching, is relatively primitive. I recommend anyone who's interested in these questions to tackle Aurora and maybe 2312 too.

[A] Oddly enough, within the current year, when a conversation revealed that Carola didn't remember them, though she'd heard their records in their moment. I thought the replays sounded good but not as remarkable or compelling as I'd hoped. Carola more or less concurred.

[A] As my Clapton piece in Grown Up All Wrong explains, I respect Clapton's facility as a player but have warmed to him only intermittently. Not a big Yardbirds fan though they were certainly OK, not a big Cream fan ditto--Disraeli Gears is my favorite in their rather tiny catalogue, and always there's Jack Bruce's portentous proto-art-rock vocals to get past. The first Derek and the Dominoes album I love and still play occasionally because it fills a special need, and I also still go for 461 Ocean Boulevard. But except for one story that's where it ends and that's all I'm writing. The story is about seeing Derek and the Dominos in Pasadena in November 1970. Great show--that truly was a terrific band. But what I always recall is what my date had to say about it. She was a very intelligent and openminded colleague of mine at Cal Arts and we had a good time together even though she wasn't much into music. But this concert she loved loved loved, and in the course of telling her about the band I mentioned the silly way fans had of calling Clapton God. Judy didn't think it was silly at all. "I can see why," she said. So maybe there was something there I missed.

[A] Aretha on Atlantic. The first Ramones album for sure. Multiple hip-hop moments--Sugarhill Gang, Bambaataa, "That's the Joint," "The Message," Public Enemy too. Bikini Kill more than Sleater-Kinney, better though S-K were. Maybe the Backstreet Boys, who got that ball rolling. As much earlier did Sunny Ade, who I'd argue made Youssou possible. Arguably electric Miles. And Bob Dylan oughtn't be left off this list even though he slightly preceded "Brand New Bag." Indeed, ditto for the Beatles. "Brand New Bag" is musically fundamental. But culturally fundamental has to be in the mix.