Friday, November 28, 2008

The Hip-Hop Jimi Hendrix.

I'm 'onna hop over the fence and give you a taste of something different from the usual white boy rock. RZA, Tha Rzarector, Bob Digi, The Razor, etc. These days everyone seems to have forgotten that it was Wu Tang forever, not Wu Tang until the new shit comes around. One has to respect what Robert Diggs accomplished in the world of music. He built the Wu from the dirty ghetto ground up, and created an empire. Okay, I'll admit they fell off. "8 Diagrams" and "The W" were both pretty shit, but I think it was due to egos gone out of control, not a miss on RZA's part. Like any group of creative, talented individuals, the Wu simply grew apart. However, during their heyday, the individuals that made up the Wu Tang Clan released a slew of highly impressive solo albums, usually produced by the RZA, himself. His technique of slowing down/speeding up samples did for hip-hop, what the airbrush did for custom car culture. Stubbornly keeping his hand in almost all elements of production and recording, even playing the instruments, RZA carved a new path for hip-hop. My favorite of the RZA solo projects is here, "The RZA as Bobby Digital: In Stereo". It's more of an airing of demons, than it is the usual swagger and braggadoccio you find on most rap albums. On track two, he literally spells it out for the doubters, "B.O.B.B.Y.", and "Domestic Violence" is probably the best song to listen to after a break up since I don't know when. Wu Tang is forever, motherfucker!


[I've got family in town right now, and I'll be out of town for the next couple of days. After that, posts will be daily again.]

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

And to the black, empty abyss...

Alright, I'm going to admit that I really don't know much about the band Unhola. In fact, I'm just going to tell you exactly what it says over here. Unhola are a Finnish blackened death metal band. They released three demos, which I would love to hear if you've got them to share, and one full length. The name translates to Oblivion. I discovered them because Aesop posted a record by AN a while back that I fucking love, and in researching that awesome, awesome release, I found that two of the members were also in this band. Really, though, I'm just trying to get people to go back and get that AN album. Not that Unhola aren't good. Inferno is a killer album, and I listen to it pretty often. In fact, their sound is pretty similar to AN, but it's not quite as good, in my opinion. You decide. And then commit deicide.


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Get out of your chairs. Stop playing your little pool games.

Do you like Anal Cunt? You do? Shit, I'm sorry. I mean, I guess they can be kind of funny. But wouldn't it be awesome if they had way more talent, and Seth wasn't a racist fuck (I base this racist accusation purely on rumor and speculation, because wikipedia is always right). Well, if you've ever felt like that, I have got a blowjob of a grindcore album for you. 7000 Dying Rats is mostly a recording project, involving a great number of people from a great many bands. According to the sheet that came with the record, 24 people are in the band. The only members I know of as being full time are Tony Vast-Binder and Steve Rathbone. The rest are a revolving door of contributors. While I have the vinyl, I don't have the ability to post it here at this time, so you're getting the CD version. The 12" has 17 tracks, the CD has "99", though tracks 35-98 are bogus. Unfortunately, I can't find track #99 on my computer, sorry. If anyone has it, and they want to send it my way, I'll fix it. It seems like they have alternate versions between the two formats, as well. Personally, I like the vinyl, but I guess you're getting twice as many tracks this way. I'm not real big on grind. In my opinion, there's just not enough originality and skill involved. But these guys actually have quite a bit of technical prowess, and there's enough anachronisms in their style on this album to keep things very interesting. Tracks jump between genres like a cheap hooker jumps between johns. Grind, punk, jazz, country, funk, ambient techno, noise and more. I'm not terribly knowledgeable about the grindcore scene, so the closest comparison I can make is Crom. There's a bit of info about them on their myspace here but it looks like their website disappeared in the last couple of months. Like most great albums, it sounds best about one decibel above the pain threshold of the human ear. Thanks to the Pope for helping me find a copy of the Derek Hess cover art. Until next time...


Monday, November 24, 2008

Eat Shit, You Pop Punk Wankers!

In the early to mid-nineties there was a backlash happening in the punk scene. Green Day released "Dookie", Rancid put mohawks and leather jackets into the malls of middle America, and the marketing strategists even convinced a whole lotta kids that the Offspring were a punk rock band. Next thing you know, everyone's got a label. The underground music scene became a battle ground. Groups of kids that used to hang out and go to shows together, were divided into factions. We weren't just 'punks' anymore. Now we had to be Straight-Edge kids, or Crusties, or Skins, or Skate Punx. Girls on the cheerleading squad were wearing Screeching Weasel shirts. Guys who played football were asking how they could spike their hair. Fights broke out at the Gilman, and bands were being banned, because of the new P.C. attitude. It was weird, but some good things came out of it. When the popular kids suddenly wanted to be my friend, I got to go to their parties and steal their stuff. You could bum a cigarette from anyone. It seemed like you could get away with more, maybe it's just me looking at my teenage years with rose colored beer goggles.

So, today, I'm going to post an album by one of my favorite bands to have emerged from all of that mess: the Rat Bastards. After hearing their "Contaminated Minds" 7", I wrote their guitar player, Jay Perris, to try and find more of their material. We wrote a couple letters back and forth, and I sent him a few bucks for another 7". A few weeks passed, and I hadn't seen anything in the mail from him. I started getting pissed. How could this guy rip me off for five bucks? Didn't he know that I could get a twelver of Weideman's with that cash? But, at the peak of my temper tantrum, a box arrived from Chicago. Inside was a grip of shwag: A t-shirt, several sheets of uncut stickers, a couple of patches, two 7"s, and an apology letter. I felt like an ass, but I was stoked to get all this stuff. A few years later, I even got to see them play a basement show in MPLS, and it was so fucking rad! Long story, but my point is: the Rat Bastards shred, and Jay is a super nice guy. I checked their myspace, and it looks like they broke up a while back, but still do reunions once in a while. In the meantime, check out this full length from Beer City Records. And since you've got all this free time, go check out, who just had their 13th anniversary.

Children? They're Monsters! (DL)

Saturday, November 22, 2008

You know, it's, uh... Nice.

So getting people over here is a little tricky. I was thinking about some sort of promo. Like, "Free tits with every comment!" But then I thought about all the effort it would take to give out those tits. Then, I was thinking, "Maybe people aren't here because you aren't posting music they like." Most of the blogs I keep up with post mostly metal, crust, or grind. I don't have a lot of that stuff, though. That's why I go to those blogs. And, besides, that would be kind of a sell-out. I want you to hear things that can't be found everywhere else, and things that are important to me, personally. So, I'm going to stay true to my original intent, and I'll start things off with one of favorite bands from Minnesota.

I lived in MPLS between 2002 and 2006. It's a hugely underrated city, in my opinion. Yeah, it's cold 8 months of the year, and people really do talk like they do in Fargo and Drop Dead Gorgeous. But I think that's charming. With all that cold weather, there's a lot of indoor time to polish up your rock and roll machine. It takes a great show to get people to drive over icy roads, and even more to get them to brave -20° on a bus or bike. So, door prices are usually cheap, and beer is even cheaper. Well, beer at the bar is cheap. In the, mostly Lutheran, state of Minnesota, liquor laws are retarded. You can only buy booze from state-licensed liquor stores, and only before 10pm. Is it Sunday? Well, then. No booze at all, unless you drive over to Wisconsin. Yeah, you can buy 3.2 beer at those times, but why bother? I'd rather recycle my own hangover piss, than drink 3.2 Keystone Ice. Okay, besides the liquor laws, and the cold, Mpls is really great. (I started to write a Zagat's guide for punks here, but it was getting way too long. If you're headed that way, let me know. I'll steer you in the right direction.)

I'll skip past Hüsker Dü and the 'Mats (The Replacements, don't ya know?), because I'm guessing you've already heard them. Today, you're getting one of my favorites, and really, you probably won't like them. But, fuck you. Look up by the header: "limitless hate", right? This is for the 1%'ers. Because if you like this band, you'll love them. Lifter Puller are more than just Art Rock. The lyrics tell a story. There's a few characters you are going to get to know. Nightclub Dwight, Katrina, Jenny (she likes the lights, duh), and "The Guy With The Eyepatch" all live their lives in these songs. You make recognize the vocals, and writing style of Craig Finn from his current band, the Hold Steady. Fuck that band. Sorry, Tad. Sorry Craig. But LFTR PLLR is a billion times better than that Bruce Springsteen shit you guys are doing, now. So, get some beers, lower the lights and fall into the tales of murdered ravers, drug deals gone south, and desperate morning-afters. "Soft Rock" is a two disc set, comprising almost everything the band put out. I'm going to post Disc 1 here. If you love it, let me know, and I'll link you to disc 2, it's a huge file, otherwise.

Friday, November 21, 2008

To all my friennnndddssss...

This is just a quick update for my friends and family.

I'm still unemployed. I haven't worked since Sept., which sounds so much better than it really is. The freelance thing did not work out at all for me. I think it's the typical, "You don't have enough experience. And we're not going to give you a job, to get that experience." So, if you've got a job, I've got the time to learn how to do it. I am so tired of watching terrible movies on Netflix, everyday. I think Jennie is tired of me watching Netflix all day, while she pays the bills. So, hire me, please. Anything involving sound, recording, mixing, or design is a huge plus. You know, if you feel like teaching.

I start school in January. Yup, ten years later than most, I'm going to college. I'll be studying English and Writing. If everything works out, I'll be a teacher in a few years. Why I want one of the most notoriously underpaid careers is a mystery, even to me. Hopefully, I'll also be able to brush up on my writing skills and get paid to do what I love: tell stories.

My cell phone is shut off. All the more reason to check this blog, leave comments, and send me e-mails.

I'm trying to skate at least twice a week. Lord knows I am full of excuses, though. Too hot. Smells like burning outside. School kids are out, and the park is going to be too crowded. No money to get in to the park, etc. By the way, I pretty much stopped street skating. I'm all about bowl-riding these days, because I don't feel like hucking myself down stairs and being chased out of spots. But shit, if you skate, and you live in L.A., hit me up. It's hard to get motivated on my own. On the same note: if you want to jam, and you've got the place to do it, I'm always down to play music. I can bullshit my way around with a guitar, or drums. Just saying.

Oh, and I'm finally learning how to get fat! I mean, not really. I still look like a twelve year old girl, but I'm getting a belly. That's what the munchies and cheap beer will do after 15 years, or so. Now, if only I could figure out how to grow facial hair, I might become a man, yet!

Would you like to be my neighbor?

I played drums for a little bit today. I miss having a house and being able to play as loud as I want whenever the mood strikes me. The landlord in our apartments let me set up my kit in an extra room in the basement, so that's nice. Still, I'm too nervous when it comes to playing them, because I feel bad about the volume. Not that the other neighbors are quiet and considerate. The neighbor directly below us is, I think, an avid gamer, with a crazy sound set-up. Every day, for hours on end, there's the loudest, most resonant bass noise coming from his place. It's a lot like living in the movie Eraserhead. Jennie thinks that it may be what causes all the car alarms to go off all day. That, and the millions of little kids that run up and down the sidewalk kicking cars until well after midnight. Another awesome neighbor is 'The Pukey Guy'. We share a wall in our bedroom with the neighbors bathroom.On several occasions, we've been woken up by the sounds of ferocious vomiting. Not, like, "Gag. Sputter. Splash, splash." No, this guy is really fucking heaving, "RRRRAAAAGHHHOOOOUUUSH, KUH! HHHWaaaaarrrrGHHH! Oh, God! My Life! HHHAAAAArrrrrrrk! WHOOOORRRPPP!!!" It goes on forever. We have a few theories about him: a.) He's a raging, Bukowski-esque, alcholic. Vomiting is just part of his daily routine, like most people brush their teeth; b.)He's a junkie. Junkies puke a lot; c.) He's dying of some horrible disease. In which case, I hope you're not laughing at his expense. Heartless fucks. Or, d.) He's severely lactose intolerant, but he fucking loves Oreo milkshakes. Who doesn't like Oreo milkshakes? Other than that, there's kind of a revolving door of people I haven't met, in the building. There is a few single moms, who moved here from the Bastard Child Home across the street. They actually aren't that bothersome. The noise from the three playgrounds on our block drowns them out. Jennie and I are the senior residents in the building, actually. We were the second people to move in after the building had been remodeled. Most everyone else broke their lease, and got the fuck out. At one point, this girl moved in across the hall from us. That night, I guess there was a drug bust, (That's what the landlord told us. Whatever it was, I guess they had a grip of cholos handcuffed in front of the building.) and she moved her stuff out the next day. The people that lived in the unit before her, who were the first tenants in the building, moved because they didn't feel safe in the neighborhood. Did I mention the Shitwall? The apt.'s border an alley, that you can cut through to get to 7-11, or the donut shop, and there's this wall with nasty, hobo diarrhea sprayed every seventeen inches along it's entire length. Take that, Banksy! And that's the story of how we live, here in beautiful, sunny Los Angeles. If a unit opens up, I'll let you guys know.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Just got in from Tokyo...

The Nip Drivers. If the name offends you, you might want to skip this post, but you'll be missing out on some fine, fine music. I've never been able to find much info about these guys. The web has a few fan pages, but it seems like they are asking as much as they are telling. A couple blogs even posted albums, but I didn't see anything recent, and it looks like a lot of the links are down. So, because I love you, I am posting their complete discography. Almost. I've got the "Destroy Whitey/ Oh Blessed Freakshow" CD, and the "Pretty Face" 7" here, but if anyone has the "Dirt My Hole" 7", they aren't sharing it. [Update: Aesop's got it on Cosmic Hearse.] All I've really been able to find out about them, is that they were from the South Bay/Southern California, and that... well actually that's pretty much all I've found out. No Wikipedia page, no Youtube videos, and no T-shirts at the mall anytime soon. Maybe you have a Nip Drivers story? Hmmm? It seems that the Holy Grail for most fans would be a videotaped show, but I've been checking the web for years, and none have turned up.

How does one hear of a band of such intrigue and mystery? Cover songs. The only reason I ever got let in on their spastic glory, was a cover of "Cindy" on Apocalypse Hoboken's, "Easy Instructions For Complex Machinery" LP. And since I did a post on them, it got me thinking about these cats again. Well, actually, I listen to The Nip Drivers on a pretty regular basis, but that's all semantics, isn't it? Speaking of Covers, you'll find a few of them here. Olivia Newton John's, "Have You Never Been Mellow?"; Duran Duran's, "Rio"; and the Rolling Stone's, "Under My Thumb" all get sped up and thrashed about. Keith Moon on Aderall drumming, and vocals that can't be bothered to stay in time, or be enunciated, the Nip Drivers.

Unfortunately, I did find one more piece of info: Mike Webber passed away in Nov. of 2006. To his friends and family, I offer my condolences. I'll always remember and respect his contributions to the world of music.

Nips Get Pissed (DL)

Wednesday, November 19, 2008


I'm not sure if this is the proper forum to share this news, but here goes: I went to the doctor recently, because I've been feeling rather lethargic lately. I hate hospitals, but things weren't improving on their own, so I went. Jennie, drove me down, and was kind enough to wait with me. Of course, the emergency room was packed. I filled out some papers and was told to have a seat. One of the reasons I hate the hospital, is that I always feel like I'm going to leave sicker than when I arrived. There's always someone coughing up green and black, solid matter onto the floor, and little kids wiping snot on everything. This trip didn't stray far from that mold. After two hours of sitting in what could have been a field Hospital in Vietnam, I finally got called to see the doctor. He did the usual, checked my heart, my lungs, asked some questions about my diet and exercise. After the initial exam, something strange happened: he asked me to bring Jennie into the room. Once we were both seated, he explained that I had a condition known as an R.N.R.P., and that because Jennie and I live together, and share a bed, that it was likely that she, too, would be infected. After the initial moment of shock, I asked him to explain what exactly R.N.R.P. meant. Was it fatal? Was it curable? Is it going to spoil my good looks? He explained that no, in most cases it is not fatal, and that while there isn't a cure, most people learn to manage the disease. "R.N.R.P.", he said, "stands for Rock n' Roll Problem. It usually affects people from ages 16 and 25, but can sometimes continue, well into middle age. Symptoms include: binge drinking, ingestion of illicit drugs, and inability to get along with people who are not infected." He gave us a pamphlet, and asked us to come back in a few weeks, so that he could monitor our progress.

I know this might be hard for some of you to hear, but be strong. According to the pamphlet, as long as we stay away from loud music, cheap beer, and tattoo parlors, we should be able to overcome this disease. The pamphlet also recommends shopping at the Gap, buying mainstream pop cd's, and voting republican. With our friends on our side, and a keen awareness of risk factors, we can beat this thing. Remember, if I leave here tomorrow, I love you all.
(Dedicated to the ones that didn't make it: Sid, Elvis, Johnny Thunders, and most of all: Matty Luv.)

The Fuck Boyz, "Rock n' Roll Problem"

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

We got violence!

I 'discovered' punk rock when I was eight years old. I had been skating for a couple years already, and if you recall, board graphics were pretty much uniform in design. Skulls, skulls, and more skulls. (Check out Sean Clivers' book, "Disposable" for the insider's history of skateboard graphics, it rules). My first deck was a Powell Peralta, Mike McGill, with the VCJ skull and snake. Well, actually, my first board was an Alva, which I stole from some kid down the street, and spray painted/stenciled a Batman logo on. (Sorry, Jesse Goodyear). But, the first board I got at a shop was the McGill. Point being, my family soon realized that anytime they were obligated to buy anything for me, it only needed to have a skull on it, and I would think it was 'radical'. My mom had a similar affinity for morbid imagery, and had bought herself a Misfits - "Die, Die, my Darling" Tee. Which I received as a hand-me-down in '88. Curious as to what the Misfits were all about, I bought the "Legacy of Brutality" cassette. It was awesome! A few years would pass, and I would pick up a couple of other punk tapes, as well as the usual crap that's marketed to kids. Yeah, I had the "Can't Touch This" single. Yup, I liked Vanilla Ice. Uh-huh, I wanted to be in the Beastie Boys.

By '94, though, I had restricted my musical tastes to Punk and Metal. Mostly the former, as I learned that if I liked the latter, I couldn't be "punk". Headbangers, Dirtheads, and Hessians were to be ridiculed, and if your hair was past your chin, you couldn't be in the Maximum RNR-Fun time-Circle of Punx. It would be a long time before I realized what a load of shit I was falling for, but little kids are dumb, and eager to fit in. Even if it means trying your hardest not to fit in. So, yeah, 1994. I discovered Mail-Order. There was a catalog from Subterranean Records, out of San Francisco, and they had everything punk/thrash/HC/surf under the sun. I ordered about six records the first time. One of them remains a favorite to this day: Apocalypse Hoboken's "Jerk Lessons", 10".

If you don't know, Apocalypse Hoboken were from Chicago, and apparently played about a million shows at the Fireside Bowl. Me, I missed all of them. I was here, on the left coast, never venturing east of the Rockies. They released a handful of albums, and a bunch of E.P.'s and 7"s. Many of the singles and E.P.'s were collected on CD, and they released a four-disc box set in 2004, in a limited quantity, only available through the band. Oh, how I have tried to track down that box set. The thing is, I have never met anyone who has heard of this band. Not in person. I don't think they really had any fanbase outside of Illinois. Why? Beats me, because I fucking love these guys. Perhaps its due to Todd Pot's love 'em, or hate 'em, snotty vocals. Maybe it's because they took some chances, and expanded their sound throughout the years. Maybe it's just that people like me haven't tried hard enough to spread the word. I've chosen to post the "Now Is Not a Good Time", 10". Why? Because no one else has. Finding this album is damn near impossible. It's not my favorite release (that would be "Easy Instructions For Complex Machinery"), but it does have one of my all-time favorite songs, "You're Momma's a Time-Bomb". Enjoy it, because if you don't, I don't think we can be friends anymore.

"She's a woman now, and its breaking my heart" [re-upped 06/10/10]

(Post)Teenage Time Killer

Welcome. Thanks for stopping by. I'm going to try and post at least a couple albums a week here, but please be patient while I get things up and running. I don't have the ability to transfer any of my vinyl to the digital world, yet. Once I get that happening, the music should come vomiting forth. Like I said in the "About Me", this is mainly an excuse for me to stay lazy when it comes to personal contacts. Secondly, I'm a bit self-absorbed, and I have this delusion that someone, somewhere might be interested in what I have to say. Please, check out the Blogs that I've linked to on the right. Those guys are way cooler than me, and should be checked daily.