Part the fifteenth is a chockfull of international wonders, British punk rock and as close to a confession on masturbation as we’ll get for a while. Read on, make notes of the transgressions against the English Language and Her Grammars and Spellings. I also posit against jazz fusion, but then again, wouldn’t you?

We caught up with bassist and singer Shannon Shaw of the three-piece Oakland band Shannon and the Clams and asked her some hard hitting questions. These included inquiring about how she decides what to wear onstage and why “the Clams?” She told us all about her unique day job and what it’s like to be one of Seth Bogart’s girls, AKA Hunx and his Punx.

Shaw heads up Shannon and the Clams making emotional, dance-inducing, ’60s inspired garagey surf rock. She’ll be performing solo with a new group on this year’s Bruise Cruise with Ty Segall, Philip Sambol of The Strange Boys, and Lance Wille of Reigning Sound as super-group The Togas. They apparently came together over the telephone line and will be performing cover songs that were selected by those burning away on the Bruise Cruise. Read on to enjoy Shannon’s funny answers to my super thoughtful questions.

With a name like Shannon and the Clams, you think there’d be ladies backing you up! What’s it like leading up two men?

To be honest, I came up with the name Shannon and the Clams when I was a solo performer! It was just me and a bass. It was meant to be a joke. Then I got some people to back me up to play some parties and then it was too late… The shitty name stuck. If I could turn back tahime (please read in a Cher voice) I would have picked a name for the whole band that didn’t point me out, like the Trolls or something. I don’t even feel like I’m leading now, me and lil Cody Blanchard are for sure a team.

If there is one man in Miami, in possibly the whole southeastern United States, whose mixtapes you want in your possession, that man is Abel Folgar. If you don’t believe me, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention to his ridiculously ambitious 4,000 Albums That Matter series we’ve been posting on The Heat Lightning for months. He knows his shit better than most of you do, but he’s not a bitch about it. Let him guide you on an intimate sonic journey with a mixed musical compilation. All you have to do is be the 127th person to repost part FOURTEEN of his albums that matter on Facebook.

This is special, guys. Like really special. This is the kind of gift that people would kill their cousins over. The kind of present they would promise to give to their dying grandmother but then keep for themselves as she withers away before them.

Look at Abel all dapper, the perfect a wedding guest. It’s true that most of you have never seen him lookin’ so cleaned up, but it can happen. This is evidence. What can also happen is you can own an incredible body of music from this slick dude’s massive collection.

REPOST people. Repost with pride.

Remember how Beings made everyone all weepy and cranky this summer by breaking up? Yeah, thanks guys. Poor Jose Flores was a bit heartbroken, and even took the time to write about the breakup up on our THL Miami Music Week. I’m exaggerating, he wasn’t actually heartbroken, but he did note, “Of course, now that they’ve broken up, I just want more Beings.” Well, he and we all are in luck, because Jared McKay, one half of Coral Morphologic and a whole lotta Discosoma Records, managed to put together one last sonic hurrah with the release of the new Beings’ EP Social Creep. Discosoma pressed only one hundred of these little glow-in-the-dark vinyl babies. The cover art glows too. Spooky.

Part the fourteenth where our humble narrator and guide tries to posit certain tautologies concerning his interpretation of “classic” punk rock albums, excessively contrived “pieces of shit” albums “crammed down our throats” by that HIV-ridden whore of an era known collectively as “the early 90’s,” presents a number of excellent blues platters, reveals the truth behind the Buzzcocks’ continued successes, ends on a somewhat not-so-positive positive African note and sails into the oblivion of his clearly pathetic and lonely life in total defiance of the English Language and her Grammars and Spellings. Boasting more “mistakes” by the digital foot than any other website in the world, we soldier on! [This last statement has not been approved and/or endorsed by the high sheriffs of The Heat Lightning and related digital enterprises, AF] Touch!

326. THE MINUTEMEN — DOUBLE NICKELS ON THE DIME. Ahh… it only took three hundred odd albums to get to this, but how fucking awesome is this disc? Incredible. Flawless. And unfortunately, out of its forty-odd tracks, you only know the first five seconds of “Corona.” Or like a kid once asked, “ain’t that the Jackass theme song?” Indeed. So fucking good. All of it. Five cents deposit!

As you already know, we at THL are excited about Drown, tonight’s show at General Practice. Our friends of M.B. Evans will be performing there together for the first time since the summer of 2000. Guitarist and vocalist Roger Rimada of former Ecstatic Peace noise band Monotract, THL contributor, and old (literally old) friend, conversed with us about this band of his youth.

The super old school Miami group has joined forces again this Art Basel to perform songs they wrote in the nineties. Such a sweet idea, it’s almost romantic. We chatted with Rimada about the other band members and being fatter than James Murphy.

me:  ‪So, I haven’t seen you perform since like 2006. What have you been up to since then? I know Monotract is still about in some form.‬

rogerrimada:  ‪Not really.  Monotract is effectively dead until the 30th year anniversary live from La Carreta parking lot.  Nancy (Garcia) does her own thing and so does Carlos (Giffoni).  I’ve been mostly out of music aside from some weekly jams with friends and I new project I’m doing with my old bro/former M.B. Evans guitarist Daniel Laburu called ‘Grenadier’.  We’ve played a few shows in NYC and we’ll likely play a few more very soon.  We’re just kinda cranking it up.  Also in that band are Alberto Laburu and Daniel Clapp, two other legacy Miami boyz.  It’s kinda indie rock right now but it’s spreading like a Flanigan’s rib-wing combo.‬

Michael McGinnis has mastered the art of selection.

The bearded songwriter and architect behind the Miami-based band Plains rarely releases new tracks, plays local gigs sparingly and in the 1990s chose some pretty sweet albums in the Columbia House 10 tapes for a penny scam.

“I feel like the less you do something, the more desirable it is,” McGinnis said, nursing a latte on a recent Saturday afternoon at Sweat Records.

We sat down with McGinnis, bassist Max Johnston, guitarist Jorge Gonzalez Graupera, and drummer Jorge Rubiera to talk vinyl, their influences, and Miami dream gigs.

THL: What were some of your early influences and first records you bought as a kid?

McGinnis: I was really into punk rock, and then I got into Zeppelin and the Beatles and all the classic rock stuff. I did the Columbia House thing, and got Beastie Boys’ License to Ill, Warren G, Weezer — that was huge, I learned how to play drums and guitar to The Blue Album.

Onwards you Black Emperors! Part the thirteenth is upon us and your humble narrator continues the Canadian vibe in the opening vignettes and goes into unrelated rambles concerning the evil heroin, albums that need to die, and the usual verbiage of violent volleys against the English Language and Her Grammars and Spellings. This one does not end well.

301. SNFU — IF YOU SWEAR, YOU’LL CATCH NO FISH. I remember being in Canada in 1994 and getting a lot of Canadian TV under my belt during the slow afternoons of my two-week stay and seeing these fuckers’ videos on all the time on what was it? Much Music or More Music? Something Canadian and polite. Lots of skating involved. I dubbed this tape from a friend in school when I got back. Cool stuff. Fun trip.

302. THE DIODES — TIRED OF WAKING UP TIRED: THE BEST OF THE DIODES. Seriously, who isn’t? But in favor of finding a specific album, this “best of” collection has all the hits you need without the geenky über-New Wavey stuff that might make you cringe. Often looked over, you might enjoy it.

This is Part Twelve. This part is not one of the lost tribes of Israel. This part has many parts of disco and disco-ness. If that offends you, move right along. The assaults on grammar and spelling continue. It will make you reticent to the proclivities of your heart. But we also hit 300 entries in this part, which is cool for the ladies because it will remind them of the super-buff dudes from that horrible movie about the 300 Spartans and the Battle of Thermopylae. I promise no history anecdotes here. Just my humble narration and whimsical eye.

276. HIS HERO IS GONE — THE DEAD OF NIGHT IN EIGHT MOVEMENTS. This is a great 7” that I actually wore down considerably. Traded it away lest I finished the job. Great fucking dirty smelling crusty hardcore from these backwoods lumberjacks. Soulful, desperate, hinging on next month’s welfare check. Even a little niggerish at times for good measure… but always dirty. I recently got a slightly less used copy.

277. RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS — THE UPLIFT MOFO PARTY PLAN. Aside from having Flea, this album also boasts the background vocals by Mr. Angelo “Motherfucking Fishbone” Moore. It is arguably RHCP’s best album tied with Mother’s Milk (which loses a bit of charm with overproduction). It is a party record. It is fun. And believe me, with a “themed” entry I have planned for this, it is not all accolades for these guys.