Archive Dive: Confessions of a Yakuza
An MLNP Archive Dive is when I flip through the repertory files and share an essay or work from the past. Archive Dives are accompanied by a new introduction and reflections.
Today, we revisit my [260] essay from August 2014.
Back in the summer of 2014, I was invited to contribute an essay to a Replacements-themed issue of [260], an art-lit zine that was based in my hometown.
The essay was titled “Confessions of a Yakuza” (and carried the subtitle “I want it in writing: I.O.U. everything”). In it, I wrote 4,000+ words about my complete, utter and overwhelming indebtedness—in all ways and always—to The Replacements’ mercurial leader and songwriter, Paul Westerberg.
Today, I thought I would share an excerpt from that essay.
This selection is centered around Paul Westerberg’s 2008 album 49:00.
I listened to the album this morning, during a beautiful, foggy, 5AM 10K run.
It remains every bit everything.
From “Confessions of a Yakuza”
PW is still in the basement, we think.
After Stereo/Mono, he released a few more albums of those -produced, self-made recordings, each more ragged than the last, and each blindingly brilliant.
(I’m one who truly thinks the most-recent decade of Paul’s career is actually better than the first.)
This era culminated with 49:00.
Have you ever heard 49:00?
I mean, it was only out for a week before he got sued by Yoko Ono, and the album got taken down and made out of print—never to be seen or heard again.
But for that week…? Oh my God.
49:00 picture-perfectly embodies everything I’ve ever loved about the burn-in-your-veins greatness of rock & roll, in one single track. (It just happens that that one-single-track is more than 40 minutes long, and contains about 25 songs.)
It’s ragged, loud, cocksure and heartbreaking.
It’s funny, sneering, frustrating and so, so sadly beautiful.
It’s hoarse and out of tune, it’s a hundred hit singles, it’s ridiculously creative.
It’s roll down your windows, tear the steering wheel off the column and lose your voice screaming along good.
Paul’s approach on this record is endlessly inspiring, with its youthfulness, its snark, its creativity, its swagger, its confidence, its resignation, its fragility, its passion and its vulnerability.
If you EVER worried about your age, about growing up but not growing old, then listen to this record, and let it kick your rock & roll teeth in.
By way of background: Paul released 49:00 as a $.49 MP3 (“a penny a minute”), available only on Amazon.com, in 2008—pre-streaming, y’all—on June 49th July 19th, 2008.
He was 49 years old.
The “album”—a single mp3 file—has something like two-dozen Paul originals that start, stop, overlap, fade in and flame out, including, at the center of the album, two stunning and raw elegies to his dying father, which play simultaneously on top of one another, one in each stereo channel.
Despite its title, 49:00 is 43:55 in length.
The album culminates with super-short snippets of a dozen or so cover songs performed by Paul—though “vandalized by Paul” might be a better way to say it.
Due to those fragments, he was quickly hit with myriad licensing lawsuits—including from Ms. Ono—and the album was deleted and made out-of-print, just ten days after it was released.
A week after that, Paul self-released the scorching “5:05” as a follow-up single, addressing the lawsuits.
(And yes: including “5:05” finally made 49:00 an even 49 minutes in length. As if I could love him more.)
These days, 49:00 only exists as a bootleg; it shows up for awhile on various websites, before being taken down again. Still doesn’t stream on Spotify or Apple.
Needless to say, I recommend surrendering yourself to it.
On first listen, it’ll strike you as a bit coy and bemusing.
On second, it makes a move.
By the third time through, you’ll likely feel like you’ve just leapt out of an airplane, and are suddenly realizing you left your parachute on the seat next to you.
You can do anything now—you’re a shooting star.
Listen to 49:00 on Soundcloud.
Listen to 49:00 on YouTube.
A pretty entertaining Billboard article about the release.
Pitchfork’s review.
I've been listening to Westerberg the past week since reading your post. He was before me but I've been enjoying it. As always, thanks for the thoughtfulness, the time, and for sharing with us.
This will be on my playlist for that long flight back home over the Atlantic. Let's see if it kicks my teeth in!
My passion for music is exceeded only by a handful of people I know. You are definitely the middle finger!
Thanks for a another fun piece...