I'm saddened to learn of this week's apparently passing of RACER magazine, an often wonderful American motorsports magazine that for far too often punched above its weight over 341 issues.
The premier issue, from 1992
I was an original subscriber and still have the premiere RACER issue somewhere. I vividly recall holding the first issue and marveling at the quality of its paper stock and reproduction. That emphasis on quality journalism and design remained up to the final issue, which I just received in the mail earlier this month.
Everytime I hear "Phantom Limb" on the radio, I drop what I'm doing and just listen.
The song's structure is unorthodox — it doesn't really have a chorus — yet it's one of the more tuneful and hummable songs of the 21st century.
The music is rich with layers. I love the shimmering electric guitar that shadows acoustic strumming (and intercepted by an incoming keyboard flourish at 3:02), the use of a tambourine to replace a high-hat, James Mercer's lead and double-tracked vocals, the plucky guitar on the outro, and more.
Mercer's lyrics are often descriptive but cryptic, and here is no exception. Listening intently is no cakewalk, but that's the reward.
We wander through her mama's house The milk from a window Lights family portrait circa '95 This is that foreign land with the sprayed-on tans And it all feels fine Be it silk or slime
Mercer told Billboard magazine, "Phantom Limb” 'was inspired from a production standpoint by early Jesus & Mary Chain albums. 'The song is a hypothetical, fictional account of a young, lesbian couple in high school dealing with the sh*tty small town they live in,' he says."
The innovative "official" video hints at that storyline, but allows for other interpretations, as well.
[ This poem is about two school girls overcoming rejection and indifference in the small town in which they live. They go along with the flow, but in their minds they rise above the people around them and will soon leave the town behind. James Mercer has stated it to be about his own personal experience of exclusion retold through the plight of two lesbians, but of course, there is nothing in the poem to limit it to that particular case. ]
Foals in winter coats, [ young girls trying to insulate themselves from the harsh numbness of the people around them ] White girls of the north, [ in some New England town ] File past one, five, and one [ lonely individuals, or small cliques, but no meaningful friendships ] They are the fabled lambs, [ sacrifices ] Of Sunday ham, [ of the church tradition ] The EHS norm. [ and the high school order ]
And they could float above the grass, In circles if they tried, [ they have great potential in their abilities far beyond the ordinary people around them ] A latent power I know they hide, [ to keep from being different ] To keep some hope alive, That a girl like I could ever try, Could ever try. [ but this power still gives them hope to reach beyond the limitations of their town ]
So we just skirt the hallway sides, [ they accept they have no place with the rest ] A phantom and a fly, [ one friend is invisible, the other, insignificant ] Follow the lines and wonder why [ comply with the set social order ] There's no connection. [ but question it's lack of humanity ]
A week of rolling eyes, And cheap shots from the tribe, [ small-minded and petty rejection by their peers ]
And we're off to Nemarca's porch again, Another afternoon with the Goat Head tunes, And pilfered booze. [ meet up with a friend, listen to Rolling Stones, and drink alcohol; this means (1) there is no acting as parent to stop them (2) the parent probably uses alcohol as a refuse, both reinforce that Nemarca doesn't get love and support from home, and so she is a natural friend for the other two rejects ]
We wandered through her mama's house, [ the father has left or died ] The milk from the window lights, [ lonely, unkept house ] Family portrait circa '95, [ back when the family used to be whole ] This is that foreign land, [ foreign because they aren't accepted by the natives ] With the sprayed-on tans, [ fake conformity to society's standards ] And it all feels fine, Be it silk or slime, [ but everything gives the appearance of being ok, whether it is or isn't ]
So, when they tap our Monday heads, [ when the girls have to go back to school ] Two zombies walk in our stead, [ they follow the motions, but don't really accept any of it ] This town seems hardly worth the time, [ they don't value the people who don't value them ] And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme, [ they no longer accept what they're taught ] Too far along in our climb, [ either they're too far beyond the town in their personal growth to accept the old beliefs, or they are looking at how they will soon finish school and be free to go live better lives ] Stepping over what now towers to the sky, [ soon they will overcome the school/town/limitations ] With no connection.
So, when they tap our Sunday heads, [ they make the same commentary about the religious aspect of the town ] Two zombies walk in our stead, This town seems hardly worth our time, And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme, Too far along in our climb, Stepping over what now towers to the sky, With no connection.
That's an impressive breakdown of Mercer's lyrics. "sackofcatfood" calls them a poem, and right at the beginning notes, "James Mercer has stated it to be about his own personal experience of exclusion retold through the plight of two lesbians, but of course, there is nothing in the poem to limit it to that particular case."
True. Interpreting the lyrics in different ways is the the power in this song, which, ultimately, is why it's so memorable over the long run and worth taking the time to stop, absorb and enjoy with every wonderful listen.
Back in the early days of Twitter (long before I got bounced from the platform for daring to link to my Mastodon handle), I got in the habit of posting a regular “Song of the Day” highlighting my latest earworm.
I’m not threatening to restore that habit, but I will share an earworm that, for me, takes me back to my college days. It’s a song that, sadly, was little heard outside of Fresno, Calif.
“Big Bug” was the first song off The Clams’ self-titled 1982 EP and it’s a top-notch banger. The song would instantly fill the dance floor, often at the once-loved Wild Blue Yonder, where the lyrics — cryptic yet descriptive at once — would entice even the most inhibited of dancers.
The vocals are the star here. George Rotalo’s lead vocals are quirky but inviting, reminding me of Wall of Voodoo’s Stan Ridgway. But this is a tour de force of group vocals from all five members: Rotalo, bassist Russ Reed, guitarists Tony Negrete and Jim Carter, and drummer Jeff Wilkins. Five-part harmonies weave throughout the song, but it’s after the springy guitar solo that we hear all five members barking and beeping here, shouting and ad-libbing there.
Negrete and Carter’s guitar work is punchy yet nuanced, with lots of delicate flourishes sitting above and under a booming rhythm from Reed and Wilkins.
The only downside of “Big Bug” has nothing to do with the song: It’s the pressing of the four-song EP, whose grooves started deteriorating after 10 plays. Not a good mix with a song so magical.
The rest of the EP is solid, with a mix of new-wave styles emphasizing the band’s harmonies, but "Big Bug" is the keeper fo the bunch.
Thanks to YouTube, you can listen to “Big Bug” and the rest of the EP without any erosion. If you do want to track down a copy, Discogs.com has a copy for sale from someone in Greece, of all places.
And if you’re in the mood for another Clams’ dance gem that didn’t make the cut for the EP, check out the band’s “Shark,” which was recorded separately and, to my knowledge, was never released at the time.
And with that, "Let's get this shindig going ..."
Update on Thursday, July 9, 2026 at 2:51 PM by
Logan Molen
I've been alerted to more Clams music online: A Clams website oddly parked under a .org domain — perhaps a subtle message that the band was a non-profit? — offers a mix of studio and live recordings, and lots of fun photos, fliers and news articles from the band's heyday.
The music includes five studio recordings, including "Shark," and two "Boombox Tapes" recordings of live shows. Outside of "Shark," all are new to me, and well worth a listen.
The hourlong live recordings really do sound like they were recorded on a boombox, but they capture the band's energy, and ability to reasonably replicate some of their complex studio arrangements.
Tuesday, August 18, 2026 at 5:24 PM 
;)
The premier issue, from 1992