It's such a shame, the kitten with no name...

We've been adopted. At four o'clock this morning, we woke up to crying. Jennie got out of bed to see what was going on, and when she opened our front door, there was a kitten. She came back in, put some shoes on, and trailed it down to the basement, where it was hiding. By now, I was out of bed, and I came out to check out the kitty. What we got was an extremely filthy, but affectionate little, grey cat. We were unsure of what to do, and we didn't want to take her to a shelter, where she might be killed. So Jennie gave her a bath, fed her, and spent the night in the living room with her. We've been discussing getting a pet for a few months, but are still on the fence. Jennie wanted a cat, and I wanted a dog. Not that I dislike cats, I love any animal, but I have an allergy to felines. Plus, we are leaving town. We took the kitten to the vet,to see what kind of problems this stray might have, and were very surprised to find out that she has a perfectly clean bill of health. We got her first set of vaccinations, and were on our way. We scrambled to find a place to keep her. Luckily, one of neighbors said that she would feed her and such while we are gone. So, we have an adorable, 4 month old cat. She's very clingy, and seems to crave attention more than food or play. She even seems to be litter box trained. Hopefully she won't be too troubled while we're gone. Any ideas for a name? (Update: We've started to call her Fooly Cooly.)



P.S. We found a dog on pet finder that we may adopt, as well. So, it may be getting pretty crowded in here soon.

Vacation, all I ever wanted...

Alright, so I'll be out of town, and away from my hard drive for two weeks. I know, your sad, it's OK. Fetch yourself some cocoa, or better yet: some bourbon, and cozy up with a good book. I highly recommend "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis. If you haven't read it yet, then I hope it's because you are illiterate. There's just no other viable excuse. It takes a while to get into the groove, and the first few chapters are just endless descriptions of what people are wearing, but it truly is one of the best novels ever written. Look up the word Psycopath, and that is exactly what you get with the character of Patrick Bateman. And don't think you know it, just because you watched the movie. There will be a test. Other books of note: "Brief Interviews With Hideous Men", by David Foster Wallace; "Guns, Germs, and Steel", by Jared Diamond; or anything by David Sedaris. I know those aren't exactly new releases, but I've got library fines, and I don't pay much attention to the new and hip.

Now, I know most of you are going to be busy during the holidays, so I'm not too worried about abandoning my post for a bit. But just in case your overwhelmed with free time, I am going to leave you with THREE albums to masticate while I am gone. Yup, I'm awesome like that. Well, not that awesome: Two of these are Rap albums (RZA got a decent response, so, why not?), and the other is an album you should have bought years ago.

First up I've got the "Blue Eyes Meets Bed Stuy" Mix tape, by DJ Cappel & Smitty. Hit em up, and buy a real copy. Who knew that Frank would get along so well w/ Biggie. I heard from a close friend, whom I'll refer to as "Nick", that these guys perform together every Friday night at a cabaret in Hell. Of course, you've got to be on pretty good terms with the owner if you're ever going to catch that show. I didn't even like Biggie until long after his demise. Now a days, I consider his work to be some of the only pure gangster shit ever created. This is a billion times better than any of those other B.I.G. tapes floating around, trust.


Next: Method Man's first solo foray, "Tical". The first of the solo Clan efforts after the "36 Chambers" album. This shit is so damn ill. Meth's voice cannot be topped, in my opinion. Even though he doesn't enunciate as clearly as a lot of cats out there, his flow is ridiculous. Nobody can touch this shit, for real. "Tical" will make even the most suburbanest, white kid feel like a god of underground funk. Sick.


Ah, the Denim Demons. The Apocalypse Dudes. The Saints of Semen. "Ass Cobra", by Turbonegro. Fucking, classic. This is the album where these boys really found themselves. No more blackface. Just Levi's and ass rockets. So many good songs on this. Like I said, you should have this already. This album and "Apocalypse Dudes" are the apex of Death Punk sensibility. Yeah, they reformed (I got to see them play, on the reunion tour), and yeah, they've put out some new albums. But this is the good shit, the china white of punk rock n'roll. Need I say more? Just get it already. Best wishes for the holidays, and I hope you all get what you want from the people you love and pretend to love, and that your greed is satisfied. Oh, yeah, all three of these are ripped at 320kbs.

Biggie and Frank
Methodtical
Turboneger

This is the way victory sounds...

Jennie and I are leaving for Minneapolis on Saturday. We'll be there for two weeks. I'm getting hyped up to see all my favorite people, and eat some Jimmy John's. Why can't we have a Jimmy John's on the West Coast? Best sub sandwiches ever (Go 'head and argue, but I'm not budging on this one). So, I thought I'd post another Minnesota band that you probably haven't heard of. [If your only into the super heavy stuff I post, you might want to skip this one. But if you like to rock, please read on.] Superhopper are pretty great. If you're ever in the Twin Cities, go catch a show, they're always playing. Have a beer or a shot with Kermit, the singer, he's a really nice guy and he knows who you need to talk to if you want to book a show. Hell, get a hold of these guys and try to make them play in your town. Catchy as crabs, hook-laden, and energetic as fuck, these guys will have you all singing along by the end of the set. Last time I saw them, at the 7th St. Entry, Kermit had just gotten married, and was in a super great mood, and had all kinds of funny stage banter (Though by the end of the set he just kept slurring, "Party. Weee'rrre gumma parteeee.)There's a whole show posted on Youtube here. And now comes the shitty part of this post... As much as I love these guys, this CD does not do them justice. Hyper-kinetic keyboard guy Math P. is buried in the mix. In fact, I didn't even realize there were boards on this the first time through. Also, Kermit has a British accent, and I can't figure out where that came from, odd. Still, while I don't endorse this EP as a whole, I can tell you that it has at least three songs I will listen to and love forever. "Kermit Hates Music" is a nice 'lil middle finger of a tune directed at crybaby emo kids and scenesters everywhere; "All Tomorrow's After Bars" is an honest depiction of what it's like to watch your frends lose it in the party scene, "I don't want any of your cocaine, I just wanna know you're OK."; and the CD closes with "Eye of the Tiger Applies to Everything", a song I can't help but always listen to twice in a row. I seriously wanna do the Flashdance when that song kicks in. And listen to the insane drum fill at the end. So rad. If nothing else, get this for that track. And to the band: sorry if this isn't a H.J. of a review. I love you guys. I'll try and pick up a copy of the first CD, "Does this sound exciting yet?" while I'm out there. Oh, yeah, I also included a song from a local compilation, which has those catchy keyboards turned up proper.



Oh, here.

It could of been you...

I was going to post Crispin Glover's album, but it looks like I'm not the only one who's been watching the River's Edge. So check out this post over here for some true weirdness. While you're over there, check out what he's got to offer, there's lots of good stuff. I didn't really have a back-up post, and really, you guys need to get caught up. Nobody's even touched the Worst Case Scenario or the Covered Up Comp., yet. So, I'm just gonna give you some random shit I scanned in. Suck.

Pre-Snuggle Bandit:


A Beautiful Man, doing his business:


???:


Streetlight Records Autograph Sesh. Only ten people showed up.:

I assure you we are open...

So, it looks like things have dropped off here, again. I'm not sure why, though. I'm thinking that, maybe it's because of the way I've laid the posts out. Could it be that people stop over, and don't see album art, release info, etc., and so move on without realizing that there is awesome, free music to be had at the click of a button? I mean, I'd like for you to hear what I have to say about things, rather than having you leeching and running away, but it looks like people aren't even doing that. Is it a lack of nudity? Well, the other blogs I follow don't seem to be posting any porn, and they are doing great. Do I just listen to horrible, unlikable music? I don't think so, and I'm trying to post a reasonable variety of genres/styles. Do you just hate zshare? I'll try mediafire for a couple posts, and we'll see if that improves things. Perhaps it's the blog title itself? I assure you that there isn't any 80's pop music here, though. Hmm. Well, if you've gotten this far, please, take a moment or two to leave a comment and let me know what I am doing wrong, or what could be improved, say hello, be heard, tell me a story, or just tell me to go fuck myself. As with anyone doing a blog, I'm curious to know what the reader is thinking. I'd like to thank the couple of people that have commented regularly: Thanks.

Now, on to the music. Today, going through my library, I noticed that a lot of the songs I like are covers. Which makes sense. A good cover works because it's like a two-for-one, especially when you have sentimental attachment to the original version. Of course, the band doing the cover also has to add their own seasoning to the mix, without spoiling the original flavor. Too often a band simply "punks" up a song by stripping it of unique qualities, reducing it to three chords, and playing it faster than the original (I'm looking at you Me First and the Gimme Gimme's, you cookie cutter bastards). So, I put together a collection of some of my favorite covers, and titled it, simply enough, "Covered Up". There's a variety of styles on display, from the simple, acoustic, campfire vibe of Aeriel M's rendition of the Misfits "Last Caress",to Charles Bronson spitting out a Hüsker Dü in under thirty seconds, to the industrial clanging of Rosetta Stone paying tribute to Nirvana's "Territorial Pissings". Most of the tracks should be familiar, and even sentimental to you. Please, let me know what you think, or talk about some of the covers you enjoy.

This is just a picture of my little sister and her dogs. It doesn't have anything to do with this post:

Get the "Covered Up" Comp. here

Why does man build his house on the sand?

I picked up "The Complete Works of Worst Case Scenario" (Vermiform Records) back in '98, almost on accident. I had actually been looking for a different band that a friend had played for me the night before, but my brain was still saturated with demon alcohol, and I couldn't remember the band's name. Worst Case Scenario sounded about right, and lucky for me, it wasn't. Because the band name I was trying to remember was Victim's Family, and after listening to them without an ocean of beer in my bloodstream, I came to the realization that I do not like that band at all. Worst Case Scenario, however, are awesome. Do you watch Peep Show? There's an episode where Jez and Super Hans recruit Sophie's cousin, because the music he makes is the closest thing to what they are trying to do, so it's like pre-emptive plagiarism. That's kind of how I feel about WCS. I've always written songs that sound similar to their screamy, discordant, post-hardcore, but I never recorded them. Anger, despair, fear, the whole black side of the emotional spectrum gets covered here. This CD collects everything the band released, so there's a bit of difference production-wise, say, between track 3 and track 15. Like a lot of the bands I like, the vocals are kind of love 'em, or hate 'em. I never learned much about them, I guess the guitar player was also in Unwound. Oh, and if you try and Google them, you'll get a ton of other bands, because Worst Case Scenario is a common name. This is the Olympia, Washington band that existed in the 90's. Oh, I don't have track one on here, "If You Were A Sparrow, I'd Clip Your Wings". I guess I never ripped it because it's just a skronky, free jazz instrumental, and I always skip it.


My link expired, but check this out: Illogical Contraption posted it! Head that way and get it.

Before They Were Stars

I thought I'd share this interview and an ad from before Jason was an actor. Along with pushing forward street skating, Jason has always come across as a charming and funny guy. If you didn't know, a couple of years ago, Chris and Jason resurrected Stereo Skateboards, and he's back on the board. This is a pretty insightful interview about a pretty turbulent time in skating. [I decided not to color correct this in Photoshop, I kinda like the aged, sepia toned look.]

Call To Your Father In Vain...

Way back, when I was in junior high, and I owned every Slayer/Megadeth/Danzig t-shirt that the local head shop could supply, I had a pretty decent collection of metal albums. Years went by, and I had almost forgotten about these blasphemous, evil men. It wasn't until about a year ago that I found myself seeking out these purveyors of brutality once again. I found that most of the bands I listened to were kind of boring and formulaic, but a few have stood the test of time. One of the superior ones, I think, Resurrection fucking shreds. "Embalmed Existence" is an atmospheric album, each song has a spoken intro which weave a misanthropic story of an evil, cursed, wretch of a man. The musicianship is in the uppermost levels of Florida Death Metal's fret terrorizing hordes. What really makes this one stand out for me, though, are the tortured vocals. More screech/scream than grunt/bark. It looks like they re-released this with a bunch of bonus tracks, so maybe you should go buy it, yeah? I will, and I'm getting one of the tees to replace the one that I had so long ago. Going through my uploads, it looks like metal is what you're craving anyways, so I'll give you this one to gnaw at, like a lycanthrope at an abortion clinic.



Evil

Red Means Go, Fucker!

Alright, another one of my favorites here: New Bomb Turks - "Pissing Out The Poison". I've have owned no less than four copies of this CD. Three were stolen, and one may have been lost, or too scratched, but I definitely have owned it several times. There was a time when this style of sped-up garage rock held exclusive rights to my listening ears. For a couple years I couldn't get enough of bands like Zeke, Teengenerate, the Fumes, the Humpers, and the New Bomb Turks. Then, Epitaph records started snatching up everything they could get there hands on, and a few of these bands suffered. I don't know why, but Epitaph puts some sort of fart into the mix, and bands I've loved never put out decent releases on that label. But, before they were scooped up by the E., these guys put out the amazing "Destroy, Oh Boy!" and about 600 killer seven inchers. A grip of those singles are collected on this CD, as well as some previously unreleased gems. I'm especially fond of the tracks they recorded with Billy Childish, of Thee Headcoats. Several screaming covers: "I Wanna Sleep" by the Modern Lovers (Who I'll probably post soon), "Just Head" by the Nervous Eaters, "Summer Romance" by the Rolling Stones, and a few more that you can just read off the liner notes I scanned. I've always loved that these guys sound like they are having a shit-ton of fun when they're playing. In almost every photo I've seen, the singer is frozen three feet off the floor, and he's always whoopin' and yelling out "Ye-ah! Yee-ahh!". Joy.


Get Fast!

Thug Life

So, yesterday started off with a bang. Actually, two bangs. Jennie and I slept in pretty late. When we finally got up, she took a trip to the 7-11, and I hopped in the shower. While I was soaping up my parts, I heard a gunshot. "Hmmm, I think that was a gunshot? Maybe just the construction noise?", and then another loud bang. "Nope. Those were gunshots. Shit, I hope Jennie wasn't anywhere in the middle of that." Luckily, she wasn't. She had gone to 7-11, but then decided top go to the Mercado on the corner after. She was in there when the shooting occurred, and everyone started freaking out. I guess a guy on his motorcycle witnessed the shooting, and ran in to use the phone. So, more than ever, Jennie wants to get the hell out of L.A.. I don't know any more details, but I'm guessing that it was fatal: the ambulance arrived with sirens and left silent. It's not the first time I've heard gunshots in the neighborhood, but I'm bummed that it happened so close to Jennie. Otherwise, I'm kind of indifferent. I'm guessing it was the usual gangster shit, and I don't think there's much I can feel about it. It happens. It's the city. One of the kids that worked for me in the back stock of American Apparel got shot and killed in his backyard earlier this year. I was bummed, because he was a nice enough guy at work, and he did a good job, without complaining. But, he was into gangster shit, and he got killed over some minor squabble. But, like most of the people I worked with, I don't have much experience in that lifestyle. All I know is that shooting at each other is common enough, and life expectancy is low. I attended an independent study high school my junior year, in San Jose. I was definitely the minority, a white kid with blue hair, and not running with any crew. Fights broke out daily between the other students. Almost weekly, they talked about friends that had been killed over whatever these kids get killed for. I was never in the middle of any conflict, one of my classmates told me that they assumed I was crazy. I kind of am, but I definitely would have gotten annihilated if any beef came my way. I don't know what my point is. I guess I'm just saying that my capacity for compassion is almost gone. I don't care about these things, and maybe I should. Not that I want to go volunteer with youth counselors, or anything, but I feel like I should be afraid when people are getting killed a block away. But... I'm not. I just don't care.

I Can Almost Take It Back...

I'm pretty sure that, out of the handful of people that read this, at least a couple of you skate. So, if you do, and you've seen Flip "Sorry", you'll recognize Gray Matter. Ali Bouala and Geoff Rowley's parts are to the tracks "Burn No Bridges" and "I Am The Walrus", respectively. After I got that DVD, I rushed over to my local record shop (Extreme Noise in Mpls, at the time)and picked up this CD. Fairly straight forward punk rock, just a bit cleaner than some of the other Dischord bands of the era. Standout tracks include "Caffeine Blues", "Oscar's Eye", and my favorite from this disc, "Take It Back". "Head" clocking in at over 7min. is pretty good as well, it starts mid-paced and has an extended 'jam' type section in the middle. Enjoy.


Here it is

Crap

I'm very upset with technology, right now. I'm having trouble with a lot of the albums I want to post being in .wav format, at ridiculously large bitrates, so that the files are huge. If you know a decent, free wav to mp3 converter, please let me know. So until I get that situation sorted out, all you're going to get today is another crappy comic. Feel my pain.

I Wanna Pass Notes With You...

When I first met Jennie, five years ago, I told her that I had a crush on her and that I wanted to write her name on my shoe. This childish tactic worked better than I could have possibly imagined. So, I would like to say thank you to Todd Congelliere, and the other charming lads in F.Y.P., or Five Year Plan for reminding me that "The word mature is a synonym for chickenshit." Often, when the responsibilities of my adult life become overwhelming, I like to turn for the sugar-hyped, spastic punk rock of F.Y.P.'s "Dance My Dunce" CD. If I remember correctly, I bought it at one of their shows in Cupertino, around '94. I think it cost me all of $5, and was one of the first three CD's I owned. I've bought a couple of their other releases, but Dance My Dunce remains my favorite, to this day. The album is filled with songs of pre-adolescent rebellion, from the opening shout of "Shut your fucking mouth!" (Dum Cos I Said So), D.M.D. seldom relents in its assault on all things adult. "Ian Stuart As A Crash Dummy" stands out as one of my favorite thrash songs, with comedic lyrics about the death of the Skrewdriver frontman, who was decapitated (according to some accounts) in an auto accident. You even get some Xylophone in the mix on a couple of tracks. So rad. So call in sick to your stupid job and spend the day skating and shouting to the tunes of F.Y.P.. Speaking of Skating, you can find some cool clips of Todd himself, who was a unique pro skater for years. Also, if you haven't heard them, some of the boys went on to form Toys That Kill, one of the best bands to see live, ever. And, support Recess Records, they are cheap and wonderful, a rare combination.


I Don't Wanna Sit Next To You! (DL)

With Full Of Smiling Fate...

I have to admit something... I have total Jap Envy. I know that reading this, some members of my family will be quite upset, because I come from a fairly racist clan (though they would never admit it). It seems that most Americans are split when it comes to the denizens of the Land of the Rising Sun. Either they feel that the Japanese simply steal our ideas, and sell them back at a mark-up, or, like me, they are blown away at the level of perfection the Japanese bring to their endeavors. Now, I'm not claiming to be an expert on Japanese culture. I don't speak the language, I've never been closer than California, I don't like Sushi (Though, I appreciate its aesthetic quality. Jennie makes adorable heart shaped rolls at home.), and I've never enjoyed the company of a Companion Girl. I am, however, a fan of many of their exports. Their groundbreaking animation, such as "FLCL", "Spirited Away", and "Paprika". All of which blow just about anything American out of the water, with the possible exception of Pixar films. I've read a few books on the Yakuza, and I highly recommend the book "Speed Tribes" for a look at the seedy subcultures us round-eyes are often unaware of. So, today I'm sharing with you a fine example of Japanese ingenuity: Melt-Banana. An almost perfect blend of Noise and Punk. Thrash and Studio-trickery. Cute and Spastic. "Charlie" is wholly original in its mashing of genres. In fact, I'd call them one of maybe twenty absolutely unique bands. Please to enjoy.




Ichiban!

The Return

Alright, I'm back in town. I had some important family business to attend to, but things are back to normal. Good news: I got my scanner running again, so you can expect nice album art scans, and a lot of other crap. Like this here comic:



I started this series of comics a couple years ago, but never really tried to do anything with them. Most of 'em are far to offensive to be published anywhere, but you'll find that out soon enough. I'll also add pictures to the posts, for context. Oh, and I've got a bunch of ads from old skate magazines, as well. Like this:


I actually had that board, I remember it being a slick bottom. I am also a crappy artist, and I'll put up drawings occasionally. Anyway, it's good to be home.

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!



DoDooooDoDaDoo

[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.]

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.



Oblivion

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...


DLLink

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 beercity.com, who just had their 13th anniversary.



Children? They're Monsters! (DL)

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.



http://www.zshare.net/download/517216162ddaab6b/

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.

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)

R.N.R.P.

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"

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.