This is an mp3 blog attempting to document the gross amount of music I listen to. About once a day, I'll post something I like. If you're a copyright holder on anything I host, get in touch, and we'll settle things in a steel cage instead of a courtroom.

Monday, August 20, 2007

The Cobra Skulls are man whores (viva la Cobra Skulls!)

Holy shit am I still alive? I dunno. Being domesticated is weird. I used to be contemptuous of people who lived nice quiet lives, but more and more I'm finding comfort in spending my nights sitting up with my girlfriend, drinking beer and tea, and listening to music while we both read. Of course, she's dating a dyed-in-the-wool punk rocker, so her fantasy and sci-fi novels are punctuated by blasts of the Copyrights and the Falcon.

Part of my old self might be thrasing about, though, as I've been on a major punk kick lately, foregoing large parts of my record collection in order to focus on punk, especially on more of the modern stuff. Don't get me wrong - Youth Brigade always has and always be one of my favorite bands - but there is so much amazing punk rock being made right now that it seems a shame to ignore it in favor of stuff that was recorded before I was even born.

One of the best of the latest bunch is the Cobra Skulls, a band I'm convinced is going to fill the gap left by the late, lamented Rocket From the Crypt. (If you're saying "who?" right now, sign off the internet, grandpa, and enjoy a life of televised golf and clocks that look like cats.) Their debut full-length, Sitting Army, pretty much came out of nowhere. I checked 'em out because they were signed to Red Scare Records, and Red Scare has yet to put out a bum record. It's like they're the SST of pop-punk. Or something.

Basically all you need to know is that 1) every song on Sitting Army has the word "cobra" in it, which is fuckin' rad, 2) they sing in Spanish sometimes, and 3) they sing about how Southern California sucks. I can emphasize how awesome number three is. Aside from cheap Mexican food, Southern California has nothing to offer the world except Guitar Center wankers and assholes who think tattoos = talent. But aside from their cool hates, they offer up a swinging version of punk rock that gleefully steals from rock n roll and nortena polka rhythms. In other words, killer.

Cobra Skullifornia:

The Cobra and the Man-Whore:

I'll Always Be a Cobra Skull (Fuck Off):


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