The Kids Are All Dead

House Boat and my death wish

2010-08-15T04:16:00.005-04:00

People dumber than I like to deal with like to ask me how I would describe the band House Boat. And I like to say "People from my favorite bands wrote my suicide note and then added poppy power chords to them."

This band is literally what happens when you combine the Steinways, the Ergs, and Dear Landlord into a big catchy mess of what happens when you fucking hate your life. They turn anthems about hating into hating your work schedule into pop punk anthems I fucking promise you will be singing along with in 20 years.

I saw them during a surprise show a few months ago when Mikey Erg was setting up stuff prior to a Dopamines show. I was approximately 20 inches from Grath's faces when he was singing, and I can't remember when I saw such I sad face. He really wanted to jump off the 13th floor because of the girl in the black hoodie. All the jokes in the world can't keep away The Darkness, and trust me, I fucking know about that.

For years I was in love with a woman who is the absolute definition of "Alonelyloneylone." "I'm still trying to find a way/to get to sleep without you." It's like the Dopamines almost, but with desperate surrender that is normally unseen.

Houseboat is better than the Steinways, and I will stand by that.

http://www.mediafire.com/?41gw7d02o72aos2

Rumspringer is rad

2010-08-11T22:03:00.004-04:00

So I met the members of Rumspringer in a gay bar.

This was the bar next to Charm City Art Space, and the only bar really in walking distance. The fact that DIY spaces can't sell drinks is bullshit. If it comes factory sealed, I don't give a rats' ass who serves it to me. "Ohhhh they might serve it to CHILDREN!" 1) Kids need booze, because their life sucks balls and 2) If you're old enough to vote and get sent to the desert to get shot at for a fucking lie, you're old enough to drink a beer. SAYING.

Anyway, I'm at the point where saying "pleased to meet you, I'm Matt Ramone!" is met with drawbacks and "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh"'s. These dudes said "fuck yeah!" and wanted me to buy them drinks, which I did happily. Most punks are dumb as shit, but not these dudes.

Rumspringer are one of those pop-punk bands that even the crusties like. I told them to their face: "You do Crimpshrine better than Crimpshrine did." Imagine the riffs of O Pioneers but with better lyrics and more continuity.

My boy Sam put their new full length out on his label, Traffic Street Records. It's flawless. The hooks hit you in the face like an unexpected dick. It's pop punk down in the muck, kicking its legs and blowing its tongue. It's like if Nobby Nobbs suddenly said something erudite.

I have heartburn so here are the songs:

It's Literally Tearing Me Apart: http://www.mediafire.com/?6w5k7qp7tvj74kh

Poison Bear: http://www.mediafire.com/?6w5k7qp7tvj74kh

I'M BACK, BITCHES

2010-08-11T08:07:00.002-04:00

Back from the grave, back from the liquor store! Listening to the Hall Monitors reminded me why I starting this thing in the first place, which is punching you in the face with some rad as shit rock'n'roll that you're too lame to find on your own.

Some things have changed, some things have stayed the same. Just know that I'm loaded the fuck up on gin and ready to stay out and keep it up all night long.

New post later today.

More goodness from Boner Pirate*

2009-09-23T22:45:00.004-04:00

So much good music hasbeen coming out this year. Year end list is going to be a raging boner jam, no lie. Practically every one of my favorite active bands have been hard at work in the studio making albums or split seven inches or babies or whatever. It's been a relief knowing that even as "punk rock" is being fondled in the rectory by the likes of Father Epitaph and Head Deacon Tooth & Nail there are still girls and guys out there making shit worth caring about. Fake Problems, Turkish Techno, American Steel, Arms Aloft, Cobra Skulls, Too Many Daves, Strike Anywhere, American Riot, Teenage Bottlerocket, Something Fierce, the Takers, the Dopamines, Dear Landlord, Paint it Black, Dead Mechanical, and Red Tape Parade have all put out AWESOME music this year. Between this year and last year, I honestly believe that we're in the midst of some sort of punk golden age. Hell, even the Bouncing Souls are making their best tunes in more than a decade.

We've also seen some bands come into their own and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with, for lack of a better word, forebears. Spawning from the now legendary Rivethead (which also featured Zack of Dear Landlord and Off With Their Heads), Banner Pilot made what is arguably the best pop punk album in a year full of them. It's poppy, it's mean, it's drunk, it's got great choruses that sag with the desperation that seemingly only Midwestern bands can sink to.

Fortunately, Nick's Schwarzenbach-on-downers lyrics are Hail Mary'd down the line by Nate's insanely great music in a way that turns into boozy, woozy catharsis. It's why lines like "stay here much more and we'll get outlined in chalk...how'd another year turn out so bad?" become fist-pumping anthems and "to hell with red lights driving on/an open cage, this bird is gone/but I can't leave this town if you're not with me" becomes an almost wistful paean to friendship and loyalty. "Starting at Ending" on a glancing listen can sound like a love song until you realize it's about being desperate for the work week to be over so you can get drunk and fall asleep reading. "I pick a day to say I'll quit/I'm either filled with hope or full of shit" indeed.

So they made one of the best records of the year. So the fuck what, Matt? People make good records all the time. Well it's a good thing they BRING IT live. When they played Insubordination Fest this summer, they PACKED the second stage area. I can't remember the last time I was in a show that crowded. And practically every person there knew all the words to "Empty Your Bottles." It was intense. People were chucking shit. Crowdsurfers couldn't get back on the floor because there was no room. I saw two teenagers toss their (I think) 8 year old brother in the garbage can, which he continued to rock out in. One dude was dancing on the bar. When it was over and I caught my breath, I felt the way I do after I've had a really intense therapy session - drained, lightheaded, and like I have just vomited up my soul. If you miss seeing them live you're gonna kick yourselves when they blow up and go down in the history books.

Central Standard - http://www.mediafire.com/?lx5livf2cl2

Starting At the Ending - http://www.mediafire.com/?lkymm1nzzez

Northern Skyline - http://www.mediafire.com/?zgmzetndyzh

Farewell to Iron Bastards - http://www.mediafire.com/?ydrj5yd0mmz

*I would be remiss in failing to point out that Andrea coined the phrase "Boner Pirate" and thus rightfully insists on credit

More like BR sides, amirite?

2009-07-22T22:31:00.004-04:00

There's a couple ways to measure how great a band actually is. When their output is prodigious enough, a surefire sign is not being able to anthologize them with anything less than two CDs. Once you have all the "hits," rarities, b-sides, soundtrack contributions, and album cuts you like and you can't get it all on one disc (and it takes up at least a lot of disc two), you know you have a potentially great band on your hands.*

This is tricky in the case of a band like Bad Religion. They have approximately 40 studio albums (jokes!...kind of), which is what happens when you start a band to pay off your heroin dealers and kind of accidentally sort of strike gold in the process. As much as it pains me to say this, they're basically the punk rock version of U2 or AC/DC at this point. (Except, you know, they still make records worth listening to.) They've been around longer than pretty much anyone and still make music people care about. They're elder statesmen to multiple generations of pissed off kids who skip therapy in favor of two chords and a dictionary. And unless you buy No Substance, you won't really be disappointed.

So yes, you could say that because they've put out consistently amazing records and have fucking KILLED it live every time I've seen them, that's criteria enough to be A Great Band. However foolish reader, you forget that I am a card carrying post-war music nerd, and therefore my nose turns itself up reflexively at all but the most nose-favor-currying sonic entertainments. So then how about the throwaways? The outtakes and the b-sides and half-finished demos usually give an insight into true creative flourishing. If a band's b- and c-material is better than most other groups' A game, it's pretty telling. (See also: the Smiths)

So presented is a collection of Bad Religion's "detritus." It's a sign of a truly great band that the songs they leave in the ditch make a pretty disc unto themselves.

http://www.mediafire.com/?zqwjzcxmebn

*Also if it's a band Andrea likes, they scooch up the ladder like a greased up Brazilian** with his ass on fire. Never underestimate the power of making your significant other not totally dislike whatever music you're playing.

**Look at him, eating candy like a Spaniard!

More like Dear Friends and Gentle Farts

2009-07-13T02:50:00.008-04:00

There's no two ways about it: American Steel is an amazing band. Starting as East Bay ragers laying down stone cold punk rock classics like "Close Enough Away" and "Every New Morning," their third album Jagged Thoughts found them openly embracing their pop, dance, folk, and Motown influences. Like all punk rock bands ahead of their time, they were disdained out of the scene by the Tru Punx who think no bands they like should be heard in coffee houses and college dorms. To them it doesn't matter that "Maria" is one of the greatest ever rock songs ever by anyone ever. Melody and Big Choruses (no matter how honest) are Tools of The Man and His Establishment, donchaknow. So Rory and Ryan basically said "fuck this, I'm out" and changed the band's name to Communique and started playing dance rock that was, once again, about five years ahead of its time. By the time Franz Ferdinand was tearing up the radio, Communique was silent, putting out a really great record to an indifferent world.

Then, for some reason, they decided to be American Steel again in 2007. Rory wrote a bunch of songs about how much he hated religion and Ryan wrote a bunch of songs about his dead dad and they married Communique's dancey pop rock to American Steel's huge-sounding uptempo guitars and put out one of the decade's best, most memorable records, Destroy Their Future. Seeing them live, it was weird hearing ballads like "Speak, Oh Heart" bump up against 15-year-old venomous rants like "Rotting," but it somehow all worked. (if you haven't seen them live, do yourself a favor and look up their touring schedule.)

They're getting ready to release their second post-"reunion" album, Dear Friends and Gentle Hearts. I've had it for about a week now, and like everyone else I definitely think it's amazing. It's not as strong as Future, but it's not exactly weak either. It's definitely way more pop. Despite its lyrical content, "Your Ass Ain't Laughing Now" definitely reaches for the Top 40 chorus and instrumental bridge, all distortion being polished off. This is not necessarily a bad thing. "Where You Want to Be" and "Lights Out" make think of what I wanted Alkaline Trio's major label debut to sound like, a.k.a. more like old Smoking Popes and less like the Killers.*

"Emergency House Party" is definitely the standout "single." A great big drunken singalong in the tradition of the Lawrence Arms or the Newton Neurotics, it features a fucking insistent treble guitar lead and a killer refrain of "it's been cold and dreary/why the fuck have you not phoned me?/grab your stuff, we're getting shitty/we only need a song to dance to/we only need a chorus to sing along to!/Pabst tall boys and all of our friends/drink and dance a sing along/everything'll be alright/(if only for tonight)." It's the best "I love you, man" song for drunk beardpunks since Banner Pilot's "Empty Your Bottles."

Oddly (and I say oddly because I appear to be the only person in the known universe who likes this song), "Meals and Entertainment" is the song on the record I like the most. As I've documented before, I'm almost always a sucker for the midtempo ballad on an otherwise uptempo album. (See also "Daydreaming" being the best song on Love Songs for the Retarded and "Nightswimming" being the best song on Automatic for the People.) It reminds me of the great weeper music Johnny Marr used to write before he thought he was Steve Miller meeting the sardonic, inudstry-aware lyrics of Paul Weller before he thought he was Oasis (or Otis Redding.) You could wake up hungover to this song and it would still be flawless.

And like the first verse of Strike Anywhere's "Ballad of Bloody Run" goes, "all the punks too drunk to stand, stand upright." This is the record to make us do just that. This is a record to make us dance and hug and chug and love. I guess you could say that makes it another winner for American Steel.

Emergency House Party - http://www.mediafire.com/?jw05gukkyzg

Your Ass Ain't Laughing Now - http://www.mediafire.com/?nmyyizgmli2

Meals and Entertainment - http://www.mediafire.com/?zaftymdzgmz

*Speaking of which, I think it's a crime for a band as wimpy and awful as they are to have a name as awesome as The Killers.

Cobra Skulls are still one of the best punk bands ever

2009-07-11T23:14:00.005-04:00

The girl has been yelling at me to update this thing. Apparently when I don't express myself creatively (i.e. making you listen to bands you're otherwise too lame to know about) I'm kind of a bastard. I like to say that it's mostly just the fact that I'm currently obsessed with Avatar and see too much of my 16 year old self in Prince Zuko.

I found my favorite bar in Baltimore tonight. It's the perfect combination of dingy, populated by alcoholics, and a jukebox with Buddy Holly and Wire. Next time you're in town, if you don't drink at Club Charles, you have no soul. (And yeah, it can be a hipster bar, but just don't go when there's an art opening down the street and you'll be fine. Plus John Waters drinks there all the time, and why the fuck would you not want to drink at a place John Waters likes?)

Last night I tried to explain to Andrea why Taxi Driver is such a great movie. "A bad person does terrible things over a 12 year old prostitute" is not exactly a tagline born for movie posters. I oughta stick to Pokemon tips.

ANYWAY, Cobra Skulls just put out a new album that rules so much. It's called American Rubicon and it rocks like you want it to. So many punk bands, when they go for the pop, try to sound like a nasally version of Cheap Trick. Cobra Skulls rock super hard without necessarily sounding like they want to be New Found Charlotte. Also, any anti straight edge song is cool with me. Just because you're catchy doesn't mean you have to go for the sugary choruses. All the melodic nods to Bad Religion ("Muniphobia," "Exponential Times") are perfect in the way that Bad Religion was perfect.

I love the ambling bass lines. I love the chugga-chugga train tom-tom drum lines. I love the half-crooned vocals. I love that it's more ska and rock'n'roll and still more punk rock than anything they've ever done. Best band ever out of Nevada? One step behind MIA, but got-damn, it's close.

HDUI - http://www.mediafire.com/?m0lq2ojgotn

Problems with Preconceptions - http://www.mediafire.com/?1tmgwnm0o2n

Back to the Youth - http://www.mediafire.com/?ziwuknehwny

Gentlemen Jesse and His Men rule school, that is all

2009-04-27T21:18:00.004-04:00

The first and only time I met Jesse Smith, I was tripping balls on ecstasy and ran my mouth too damn much about the Zero Boys and "the fuckin' keg, mannnnnnnnn." He was super nice, though, and put up with my ramblings about unappreciated hardcore and my vain attempt to wow myself into the Atlanta scene in order to get a job writing for local fuck-you rag Stomp and Stammer. I had just seen his crazed punk destructo band The Carbonas tear the FUCK up in Rob's basement (where Rob's House Records gets its name from)

Based on what I saw that night, I had no idea he would go on to form a band of pure, undiluted power pop, nor would I have guessed how fucking glorious that band would be, standing shoulder to shoulder with greats like Shoes and The dBs. The burn-down-the-suburbs ferocity of the Carbonas didn't really hint at the stupidly catchy choruses or toe tapping basslines or awesome harmonies.

This really is one of the best records that came out last year, and one I cannot suggest picking up enough. Don't let the good scores on Pitchfork scare you - this actually sounds like music.

Highland Crawler - http://www.mediafire.com/?wzhhx5zezo5

The Rest of My Days - http://www.mediafire.com/?zmxjajz23ny

You Don't Have To - http://www.mediafire.com/?nawyzmd0jzz

My teen idols had muscle tees

2009-04-22T22:02:00.007-04:00

Insubordination Fest made me think of an Anti-Flag show I saw when I was 15 or thereabouts. This will make sense in a minute.

I doubt I'm sacrificing much cred when I say my parents used to drive me to punk shows. Your parents all did too, and you're lying if you've ever said otherwise. This means I got dropped off a good hour before the first band went on. This is in drastic opposition to now, where my friends and I weigh seeing the opening bands vs. how much more pot we want to smoke before stumbling off to the Ottobar.

ANYWAY, one of the big shows that required parental driving was Less Than Jake/Anti-Flag/New Found Glory/Teen Idols. I think this was around 1999/2000. Anyway, New Found Glory had just struck it huge with their very first radio hit, so Nations (now only requiring pat downs for weapons, not drugs!) was PACKED and it was an equal measure between bros who liked LTJ, dress up punx there to see Anti-Flag (me) and junior high kids in orange Abercrombie shirts and frosted tips.

For those of you unfortunate enough to have been to Nations before it got torn down in the city's vain attempt to turn the Anacostia ward into something safe for middle class white people, you will remember that it was divided up between a huge open floor and balconies that stretched all the way around the club. Between sets, there was this massive exodus on the parts of both groups. After New Found Glory's set, the mass of orange parted like the seas and allowed in all the kids who were trying wayyyyyyyy too hard with patches and safety pins (once again, me) while they all scampered off upstairs to await chaperone pick ups.

(I would like to point out that I spent the entirety of NFG's set in the upstairs lounge trying desperately and fruitlessly to get this punk chick's phone number. Even then I knew they were bullshit, but I had no idea that they would sound like the fucking Beatles compared to the wave of screaming crybabies who would follow in their wake.)

But before any of this, before any crowd shifts and typical teenage boy awkwardness and snuck in whiskey in the bathroom, the Teen Idols came out to keep the crowd of hormonal angst at bay while Anti-Flag finished their vegan imported scones or whatever. And they fucking KILLED.

At that point in my life I was slowly being turned onto the 50's aesthetic (mostly through monster movies and rockabilly rarities comps), so when a group came out before a bunch of Angry Punx and Cool Rich Kids (not that the two are mutually exclusive) with pompadours and old microphones and sang super catchy songs about porno and pill popping and aliens controlling your brain, it was kind of a shock but in a good way, at least for me. At that point I was mostly concerned about American military involvement during the last 20 years and how much teachers suck ass and how dare they tell us what to think. (I point out for the third and last time that I was there to see Anti-Flag.) I was in a really awkward relationship at the time (she would eventually come out as a lesbian, if the third party accounts are to be believed), and someone singing about girls in a way I didn't think was completely lame was kind of a revelation. That and Heather was super hot and while this is an incredibly sexist thing to say, the lizard part of my 15 year old brain responded quite hard.

So they're getting back together to play Insubordination Fest just down the street from me and I'm excited to see them again. Their last album blew and Heather quit so they hired Another Girl Bassist (which I have my own issues with but will probably put up with just so I can hear "I'm Not the One" live again), but Insub Fest is the land of second chances. Bands that would never be able to pull off a successful reunion tour on their own are treated like the Rolling Stones by the thousand assembled drunk pop punkers, and for that I will be grateful. If I'm going to experience them again, I would much rather it be with people dancing and singing and STOKED instead of incredulous early birds waiting for this week's new pop idols to grace them with their very existence.

What else can I say? It's pop punk at its finest. They put out three really amazing records on Honest Don's, and that's a better batting average than almost any band or their ilk has ever managed. Here's hoping they don't fuck it up. (And word to the wise - if their merch booth has a kissing jar, be prepared to have Keith give you smooch.)

Let's Make Noise In the Bathroom: http://www.mediafire.com/?2m02mngabtg

Test Tube Teens: http://www.mediafire.com/?anzwz2mndmy

Midnight Picture Show: http://www.mediafire.com/?jwijwdtxdoz

I wish they were on methadone

2009-03-31T02:03:00.004-04:00

So Travis from the Cute Lepers is dead. I wish I could make that sound starker, but you fucking can't.

Dead.

DEAD.

Dead from mixing pills and booze, apparently. (Joe Queer is saying it's heroin, but Joe Queer says a lot of things.) I've done this before and I'm sure more than a few of my readers have done the exact same thing. You're hanging out in the vicinity of a show and drinking; someone offers you some pills which you take cause hey why not? Most of us wake up.

Sex and drugs are really two verboten subjects on the punk circuit. If you sing about them too openly and/or too joyously, you're seen as a poser. Someone who doesn't get it. Punks don't sing about smoking weed or getting laid, do they? Human beings do stuff like that, and no tru punx would ever be caught doing stuff a real human would do. After all, the trash at Gilman needs taking out.

I don't mean to turn this into a manifesto or take advantage of Travis' death just to make a point. Sometimes when we lose someone, we freak out as a community. I say we take the pertinent lesson and hopefully move on. It's terrible what happeneded, and we hope nothing but the best for the families.

Provie It: http://www.mediafire.com/?ujcarycyyzz

Terminal Boredom: http://www.mediafire.com/?ldjmq3xmily

Cool City: http://www.mediafire.com/?govmjzmjxoj

Take THAT, the government!

2009-03-26T01:27:00.005-04:00

It took me forever to find a picture of The Riot Before that was not 1) live or 2) taken while they all stood on a porch. What do you expect? They're from RVA. It's almost expected in the land where PBR stands for the People's Beer of Richmond.

Late last year they put out Fists Buried in Pockets, which was one of the best records to come out last year. (And considering how good last year was, that's saying something.) They are definitely a punk rock band, but it's hard to put your finger on why, exactly. They play melodic, undistorted, uptempo rock music with only mildly gruff vocals. So I dunno. Maybe it's because their bassist is a fat guy with an epic beard. Maybe it's the lyrics - "We Are Wild Stallions"* is about how love of music and community trumps paydays and comfort with a rarely matched passion, which the nu metal and screamo-pop bands certainly don't do. Maybe it's because you can so very easily imagine singing "WE'LL GET AWAY, WE'LL GET AWAY WITH THIS!" at the top of your lungs in some basement. Like Cheap Girls or Tranzmitors, other rad bands, they're a group who on the surface may not seem like the punkest band in the world, but underneath everything they are punk rock to the fucking bone. Plus, you know, references to the Royal Tennenbaums for the fucking win.

Threat Level Midnight - http://www.mediafire.com/?euwxzwjmzzm

We Are Wild Stallions [sic] - http://www.mediafire.com/?jnitemzj0jm

They Rode on in the Friscalating Dusklight - http://www.mediafire.com/?0m04zd5jwzy

*Bogus Journey is the superior of the two movies, I'm just saying. They play Twister with Death. What more do you need to know?

I get gross

2009-02-27T14:35:00.005-05:00

I've written about AC Newman before, and with good reason. He's one of the best pop-rock songwriters alive. If you can listen to the song "Drink To Me Then, Babe" without feeling something you are probably something subhuman. Like, Buffy would stake you. This guy understands the melodies that wind around the human consciousness and knows when to squeeze. In the best way possible, of course. Only he could write a song that would sound so much at place in a Wes Anderson movie and on your Saturday lounging, be it day or night.

He's one of the few people who can produce solo records that I like despite the fact that he has no one to fact check him, in a sense. This is bad for a lot of people. Who says "no" to Paul McCartney, anyway? He was a Beatle. It's also probably why pretty much every solo song he did sucks so hard they could create a black hole vacuum. Newman's still in the state where he's in complete control of his musical faculties and it will sound perfect on basically every fire escape on which you've ever sat.

AC Newman reminds me of those horizon gazing Sundays after those coke snorting Saturdays. It's arre that I listen to him and don't think I should be rocking a cigarette. Maybe it's the fact that I've been watching so much Buffy lately and stuff about high school sends me for the hills and the nostalgic music, and Newman is primed for nostalgia. I bet if my parents had heard this 30 years ago they would have made out to it. That thought is terrifyinfg until I remembered that their first date was to see Rocky Horror Picture Show and my mom still decided to fuck my dad despite that and here I am, so maybe not everything that came out of that shitty movie was terrible. Um, what was I talking about? Here are some mp3s. Go buy AC Newman's new album Get Guilty.

Prophets: http://www.mediafire.com/?yznmwmz1jgm

Changeling: http://www.mediafire.com/?glmjrki4nh3

All My Days (And All My Days Off): http://www.mediafire.com/?mjilymmhxya

I forget the area code

2009-02-26T14:26:00.004-05:00

A lot of good albums have come out in the short amount of time that is 2009 so far. No one has penned a line that makes me sing along harder than "when you're young/when you're dumb/when you're drunk as hell and in love/when you're sad, when you're no one/pretending something more than you are/(but you're not)." Fake Problems were always a pretty good band, even if they started as kids who held Crime As Forgiven By Against Me! as gospel (which I wish more kids would).

The thing I liked about this band above all else is that no matter which of their releases I was listening to, I always felt like I was listening to exactly what they had intended to release. Fake Problems do not at all reek of compromise, which makes the horns and the chorus on their new album It's Great To Be Alive sound all that much better and sincere. Chris Farren still sounds like he's spilling out his blog in time, and the band still sounds like they are keeping up with each emotion step for step. The fact that they are as young as they are is pretty much lost in the wash of strummed power rock music and a drummer who knows what the fucking score is.

Fake Problems are the feeling you get when you buy your first legal drink and you get carded. It's rad.

Dream Team: http://www.mediafire.com/?uxvvz4entq3

Diamond Rings: http://www.mediafire.com/?ntejtmdmgim

Heart BPM: http://www.mediafire.com/?1nkknzaklmi

Oh god this is terrible - or - TIMBERWOLVES!

2009-02-20T02:56:00.004-05:00

I'm bringing this ugly bitch back to life and I'm starting it off with a groaningly-bad song. Because this is a brand new leak and the company involved will probably be zealously searching using obvious keywords, let's just say it's the new song from the band Dreen Gay, and it's the title track from their upcoming schlockfest 21st Century Breakdancing. WINK.

It's not Hawthorne Heights level awful, but it's like seeing an ex-girlfriend who got fat from having kids with some asshole who's now in jail for making meth in the garage. It's sad. Dreen Gay apparently think they're the Who and/or U2 now, and must make IMPORTANT songs about SERIOUS topics because they're ADULTS now. This is the band that once sang about being too bored to masturbate. They also used to be one of the best summer rock bands ever to exist. I guess arena tours and major label budgets do awful things to artistic ambition sometimes.

Anyway, expect this to be hailed as "punk album of the year!" by rock writers who don't really know what punk is. (Hint - they think it's still entirely by and for the fashionable boho hipsters of big cities. This is why shit bands like Be Your Own Pet get labeled as "punk" when in fact they are just "assholes.")

Anyway, enjoy the song, I guess. Or don't. I didn't. And doesn't that artwork make you want to punch whoever did it in the dick?

http://www.mediafire.com/?gj4fwljmytd

"This hat is my most prized possesion"

2008-11-08T12:12:00.005-05:00

Sorry for the absence. Andrea and I live in Baltimore now, a few blocks down the street from two of our best friends and the Ottobar, so you can imagine I'm happy. We're officially engaged, and I live in the land of $6 cases of Natty Boh. Life is good.

HOLY SHIT THE ELECTION IS OVER FUCKING FINALLY YAY! And the guy who might actually do a good job won out over the walking ghoul and his ignorant, lunatic sidekick. Needless to say, I got good and shitfaced and participated in a mob.

The last time I was that stumbledrunk (I am the king of segues) was when we all piled on for the Revival Tour, which was three solid hours of insanity and discrete, drunken man hugs. (To which Andrea rolled her eyes and was probably just thinking "boys will be boys" over and over.) Also, flannel. Lots and lots of flannel, and the facial hair to match. Of course Chuck Ragan and Ben Nichols and Tim Barry were amazing live, but I was surprised how much I loved the opener.

Before he stepped on stage that night in a PBR hat and a striking British accent, I had only heard the name Frank Turner and had only heard one of his songs in passing. I was bummed that the other stops on the Revival Tour were getting "name" openers. Sundowner. Tom Gabel. Austin Lucas. Who was this Frank Turner guy and why was he preventing me from seeing the Gabel tear through his new solo songs?

All of that went out the window in the space of about ten seconds as he less played his guitar than attacked it, very clearly singing with some fucking backbone and enthusiasm. And man, that cat has some pipes and knows how to write a catchy melody. I know every semi punk-related limey who goes the solo route without trying to hide their accent is going to get compared to Billy Bragg from now until the nuclear apocalypse, in this case there's actually some validity. (It doesn't hurt that Turner, like Bragg, often has a neat turn of phrase in a seemingly bottomless arsenal and an eye for insightful observation, personal or otherwise.)

I left converted and acquired a good portion of his solo material. It's not often that you come across a singer-songwriter who covers Black Flag and sings about partying with the dying. Start with "Vital Signs," one of the single best songs of this decade. If scathing indictments of the people who populate fringe subcultures (like punk) are your thing, you're going to love "Reasons Not to Be an Idiot," which while critical, does not treat its subjects with complete contempt. He treads familiar ground, but it's done with more humanity and optimism than a million howling "you're a poser!" punk and hardcore songs.

(Do not, however, go looking up his old band, Million Dead. If the name is not a dead giveaway, the group was a subpar, also-ran Refused ripoff. Frank clearly can sing, but it's in the wrong context - think Ted Leo being in Animal Crackers.)

Vital Signs - http://www.mediafire.com/?meqjdmuynme

Nashville, TN - http://www.mediafire.com/?mytmn2zmolm

Reasons Not to Be an Idiot - http://www.mediafire.com/?glywdo1dtz2

Substitute - http://www.mediafire.com/?dgmtd0nnokn

A dorky dude talks about rap music

2008-10-14T01:14:00.008-04:00

Tomorrow is the Revival Tour, and I couldn't be more stoked. The dudes and I have an unofficial pact where if one of us cries at any point, no one is allowed to bring it up ever again. If Ben Nichols breaks out "Nobody's Darlins," I'm all but assured to lose it.

What else is going on? Not much. Moving to Baltimore soon. Hope to temp some before then. Rereading Batman comics is the high point of DIY ethics, and if you disagree you're a poser

So I was watching the newest in a long line of Clash DVDs, and one of their performances made me think, of all things, the birth of hip hop.

The birth of punk and the birth of hip hop are often compared. Usually the people doing the comparing are lazy, borderline racist assholes who are too busy scoring cheap cultural points to think about what that argument actually means. If they gave it a moment of thought, they might realize it's actually an entirely valid point of view, but hey, someone needs to go back to jacking off the Arcade Fire instead of focusing on music worth giving a damn about.

Both forms of music were, in their own ways, Year Zero. Punk was the cumulative effect of 15 years of people saying fuck you to orchestral rock music and the demigod mentality. It was "fuck off! You might be able to play every scale ever conceived, but we got songs and rage and you go die in a fire." Hip hop was born of a similar attitude, kind of. If the early pioneers sound skeletal and primitive, it's because it was made by people who didn't have shit. If you had a turntable and someone who could rile a crowd, you could jam basement parties. No disrespect to Rick James or Parliament, but not everyone could front a 20 person band and release records with high production values. It was DIY at its rawest, funk and soul music for people of limited means in the same way that punk was rock music at its barest, created by people who sold blood for guitars and wrote songs about kinky sex and horror movies. They both were forms that, intentionally or not, cut through the bullshit, reduced bloated forms of music to the bare essentials, and in the process changed the course of music.

It's hard to evaluate hip hop today in its current form. It's become a genre that appeal to such a broad spectrum - I would argue the most popular type of music in the world - and ranges from the shiniest of the mainstream to the dankest of underground, as as such it's difficult to sum it up as a genre. However, I immediately discount all people that are akin to my ex-girlfriend's parents who said (no shit) "it's just tree people talking about welfare over a drumbeat." (Dating people from GA is hit or miss. My current gal is nowhere near this ignorant, as she is a human being who is 1) not racist, and 2) capable of dressing herself, jesus fucking shit.)

The sampler presented is in no way intended as definitive or the product of a true head. This is the hip hop I've found that rocks my world, and I want to share it with you in the hopes that those of you have written it off give it a chance, that it's not all "Crank Dat" or whatever. It's a messy, complicated genre that rewards digging, much like 'most any other types of art.

Hip Hop Sampler - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=RX6JIDED

Ninja Gun is actually a pretty cool name (3 Ninjas aside)

2008-10-12T03:14:00.007-04:00

So I was lounging with my lady today listening to the new Tim Barry album (it's fucking great, believe me), and I just kind of blurted out, "why the hell are all the great contemporary country albums made my drunk punk rock frontmen?" While this is probably not entirely true - people like Keith Urban need to die in a fire - it seems true to me. Country has become chiseled twits singing pop rock with a twang added for effect...and sales. Like hip-hop, it started out as a rugged, honest representation of the times for the downtrodden poor, and now has become background music for idiots, at least as far as its mainstream face is concerned.

Of course, you could argue this is where the two diverge. Mainstream rap now represents every moron with more exhaust pipes than brain cells across every board, whereas mainstream country, it could be argued, still represents its base pretty accurately - xenophobic flag wavers who believe in the three T's of titties, trucks, and torture against foreign nationals. I have to laugh at super nationalistic country singers who pretend to be rebels. It's gotta be nice raging FOR the machine. As ridiculous as it is when someone as lame Conor Oberst stumps for a politician in between warbling about the women who broke his heart because he's a sad sack loser with ugly hair, it's far, FAR more ridiculous for Aaron Tippin's crowd to be singing "drill here, drill now!" back to him with utter disregard for their own interests. So long as someone wears a $200 stetson hat and pays cliche lip service to small towns, American-made trucks, and not letting gay people visit each other in the hospital, sales at Wal Mart will be brisk. (iPods are for arugula-downing elitists, what with their internet access.)

So maybe it's not all that odd that tattooed punks like Chuck Ragan, Old Crow Medicine Show, Hank Williams III, and so on are the only types making country music worth caring about. I've made a lot of rural drives in the past few months, and there's a reason Merle Haggard and Hank Snow sound so fucking right. When you're all alone, driving through tree tunnels and open pastures, and passing faded signs for down home cooking, "Moanin'" and "Dixie Cannonball" and "Hey Porter" sound like the most perfect things ever written. I've sat on many porches on many Southern summer nights with many cheap beers, and slide guitars and down-home tales of loss, love, and pride make more sense than the angriest metal song or the funkiest pop hit. "Six More Miles to the Graveyard" and "My Best Girl" have reduced me to a sobbing mess more than once.

So it heartens me when bands like Ninja Gun come around. Hailing from the frankly shit town of Valdosta, GA, these farmers' sons are making some of the most honest contemporary music of any genre. It's poppy int he same way Big Star is - seemingly obvious on the surface, but the more they suck you into their world, the more twisted and delicious it all becomes. "Red State Blues" is one of the best songs of the year, and its wailing lead guitar is one of the reasons. Fronted by the sweet-as-the-tea Jonathan Coody, it sounds honest as the sweat on your back at the end of your shift. The choruses are the soundtrack to shedding your work clothes when you get home, popping a beer, and reacclimating your mind to the real world.

That's not to say it isn't thoughtful. The lyrics belie the relaxing, almost familiar nature of the music, and thank god. It's nice to hear from someone who farms all day and isn't interested in singing rah-rah bullshit talking points. It's equal measure Lucero, Gin Blossoms, and the Replacements, and I couldn't be happier about the fact. Restless Rubes is one of the best records of the year, and it sounds to me like one that is going to stand the test of time. Goddamn if this isn't going to sound perfect sitting by the riverside on a camping trip.

So maybe it makes sense that the punks are making the best country music. The scene is falling apart around us. Our heroes are getting old and ragged, and the subculture we all so carefully watched and contributed to has been raided, pillaged, and raped by carpetbaggers armed with little more than mascara and faked angst, more concerned with making a dollar than a lasting piece of art. It's enough to make a soul drink more whiskey than they ought to and light votive candles around portraits of Johnny Cash. At least in death he can't get a severe haircut and shriek.

Asking Price - http://www.mediafire.com/?zj2zmhwzdm1

Eight Miles Out - http://www.mediafire.com/?zmm3mmemjem

Red State Blues - http://www.mediafire.com/?o2ydumnfnlo

Hahaha, you said 69

2008-10-09T01:06:00.006-04:00

Tonight was a hoot. Not only did I get to see Ted Leo and Against Me! in a relatively tiny club (compared to their usual draw), I got to hang out with the best people in the world. Andrea (best date in the world, no wonder I'm going to marry this girl), Neil, Ryan the Red Lion, Jordan, Ryan B, Andrew, Ward, and Matt are the cat's pajama's. Andrew and Neil, I owe you two more drinks than exist! You fuckers are the shit. We're going to drink the club dry of PBR again.

What else is going on? We're moving soon. I finished Vol. 8 of The Walking Dead, and all I can say (in addition to "holy shit!") is that I can't wait until the next trade comes out. It might be the best comic going. You would do well to check it out.

So after going to drink cheap beer and rock out to groups who kick out the intelligent punk jams, it's always nice to come home and have a little whiskey and listen to the rah-rah dumbass of some old school British street shit. Sham 69 has always been a favorite of mine. They usually get pooh-poohed outside of the Oi! scene because their music is basically working class anthems set to soccer chants, whereas I find that to be part of their charm.

I hate it when super British performers alter their singing voices in order to appeal to the American buying public. Listing to Sting warble and you'd never know his land of origin, despite the fact that his accent is as thick as Yorkshire pudding. What I like about bands like Sham 69 is that it's very clear where they're from, and the fact that they take great pride in that is pretty heartwarming, especially since they're from the generation before where it became contrived. Nearly 30 years later, it sounds like de riguer street punk fodder, but back in the day of high-minded punk lyrics, a verse like

Does she tell you not to swear?
How to comb your hair?
I can get by I can get by
Is your sister on the pill?
How does your mum feel?
I can get by I can get by
Cos it's better than getting chucked out
Cos it's better than being alone
Cos it's better than growing up fed up

was probably simplistic, but representative of a genuine experience, which is the ultimate goal of all art. It may sound like an overly simplified platitude, but having something to say and saying what you mean are the twin brothers of what makes great art. So while it might not be the words of Yeats, genuine yobs being the first to write chants about the working class experience in a punk rock setting may be just as valid. It might not fly in academia, but singing about having to take the bus is as vivid and real as it gets.

All you genuinely need is the half studio/half live LP Tell Us the Truth and one of the various singles collections, but if you're into punk at all, this is a band well worth checking out. Know your roots, kids.

Borstal Breakout - http://www.mediafire.com/?gmhnoyonlna

Cockney Kids Are Innocent - http://www.mediafire.com/?2ym5mzwl4qm

Family Life - http://www.mediafire.com/?zvnlmnmqwnz

Hersham Boys - http://www.mediafire.com/?1yy3zzwtmfm

Hey Little Rich Boys - http://www.mediafire.com/?r0t2t2g0omd

The moon, Cat Power, and me acting wanky

2008-10-05T16:01:00.005-04:00

Something more people should care about but don't is the difference between Sunday morning music and Saturday night come down music. They might bear passing similarities, but they are two entirely different things.

Sunday morning music is relaxing. It can be sad, but stuff like the Fruit Bats or Mississippi John Hurt's quiet air of sadness reflects what it's like to know you have to be back at work in less than 24 hours and provide a good soundtrack for making eggs and toast and sitting in a hammock and letting your liver process whatever it is you took on Saturday night. Saturday night come down music consists of tunes that would make you want to kill yourself if you weren't so fucking wasted, usually by the likes of Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, or Cat Power.

One of the most magnificent moments of my life came my last year of school. After I had dropped a friend off after seeing the Black Lips destroy everything in sight at the Drunken Unicorn, it was about 3 AM and I was wired on booze and god knows what. No way I was going to sleep anytime soon. So in the chilly quiet of a Georgia night, while everyone around me slept, I sat out on my porch, smoking a joint and listening to Cat Power's masterpiece of an album, The Greatest. The moon was bright, the smoke was hot in my lungs, and the music sent my body a million miles away.

A passing listen can make you dismiss Chan Marshall's lilt as "mellow," but at its heart its as fucked up as anything you can imagine. It's the kind of music you imagine hearing in some empty dive bar after you just got dumped. It's the voice from beyond the grave when you're driving alone at night. It's not for everyone, but for those whom this music was intended, it tazers your nerves and gets under your skin in a way that won't soon wash out. I played Cat Power records way too much when Andrea was gone. That might have been a mistake.

For fans of: The Exploited, Sham 69, Discharge, the Freeze

Could We - http://www.mediafire.com/?hqykyenyqmo

The Greatest - http://www.mediafire.com/?vgegmkm4zwz

Speak For Me - http://www.mediafire.com/?ijkdzwqdygd

He Turns Down - http://www.mediafire.com/?3izjiyddjuo

The best seven inch I've had since last night

2008-10-05T01:46:00.004-04:00

Ghost Town Trio might have released the best seven inch of the year. Since 2008 has seen the release of the Measure [SA]/Off With Their Heads split and the Steinways' Unoriginal Recipe, this is quite a feat. These are three young dudes who clearly wore out the grooves on their Jam, Motwn, and Replacements records, and if you know me, you know I think this is a very very good thing.

The Have You Heard? EP just kinda came out of nowhere. Usually if a band have reached the level of being signed to Team Science, I'll usually have at least heard their name. (This is more of a "I'm an obsessive weirdo" thing than an ego thing.) A chance download of the song "Cold Machine" was more than enough to sell me. A tightly wound piece of rock 'n' roll topped off with a frontman who has some fuckin' pipes, it's one of the five best songs this year.

All four tracks are JAMS. Catchy songs, fantastic rhythm section, great for singalongs when you're alone in the car and drumming on the steering wheel. This is definitely a band to keep your eye on. Say you knew them when before they start opening up for the Hold Steady.

Cold Machine - http://www.mediafire.com/?wyzmlnzmzhe

I Thought You Were (But You're Not) - http://www.mediafire.com/?t4niowhn22i

Fucking people are unbelievable

2008-10-04T04:23:00.006-04:00

I will never forget the first time I had a beer. It was a chilly-feeling night. Stars were out. We were in between vans. Cops were out, so we had to be wary. There was a girl hanging out, so I had to be extra cool. I was surrounded by guys I loved, guys I respected - I couldn't choke. I handled the Miller Lite like it had been my destiny, and choked not as I choked it down. It tasted like hell, but the last thing I wanted was for the guys I idolized to laugh at me or call me faggot.

It was hard for me. I felt like I was in the presence of royalty. I had been destined to see Upper Cut the night Violent Society was set to play with Eight Dollar Experiment and the UK Subs. They bailed, like half the bands on the line up. It was right after 9/11, so cast your judgement accordingly. They played at Jaxx shortly after, and it was like hearing the pop band my generation had been waiting for. We all loved Plan 15 and the Daycare Swindlers. Loving anything remotely punk in Springfield Virginia is easy as hell. What's not so easy is being some dumb as hell teenager and finding your pop god and genuinely feeling it.

I was a dumb kid. I am a dumb kid in a lot of ways. The expectations are so lowered that it's almost too frank to admit that you've met your own Dee Dee Ramone or Ray Davis. The first time I heard Upper Cut, I had plastered a sticker across my forehead from the first. I couldn't believe that the people who'd written "Round Meadow Days" and "Better Day" were really in my presence, and were willing to talk to me.

So there I was. My itchy, neurotic self, holding a recently popped beer. All the guys were there being such. I couldn't be a pansy in front of the people whose approval I desperately sought. I was the odd duck out. So I forced Miller Lite down my throat and smiled. No one noticed, which was my ultimate goal. So there I was. Everyone in the band, the would-be management, and the eager fans. I swallowed beer and didn't make a face. It was an achievement for me.

That's my ideal memory as a roadie. I had a rare chance to be near one of the best pop groups of anyone's time. I miss them and everyone else should. Being 17 and sitting there in the bar and listening to the most rousing bar pop you've ever heard has got to be a moment worth you fuckers giving a shit about.

I miss these guys. I really did think they were going to be the thing that replaces River Cuomo's overrated ass. Tell me what you think.

You're Gonna Lose - http://www.mediafire.com/?bmzwg2uhy2y

Empty - http://www.mediafire.com/?ezwmn4zkzik

Round Meadow Days - http://www.mediafire.com/?gt4o2gdo3gz

Solution - http://www.mediafire.com/?w2yzzvmenda

Better Day - http://www.mediafire.com/?lezfjjnnl13

More like BONER Pilot, amirite?

2008-09-12T18:49:00.007-04:00

Oh god, it's hot. It's been so hot that I haven't been able to update. Well, that and by the time I get back from being out all day in the Georgia sun all I want to do is drink beer and pass out butt naked under the ceiling fan.

Also, I've been using Andrea's computer, and I already wrote about Tiger Trap and All Girl Summer Fun Band, so there wasn't much to write about.* My good friend Scotty Ellipsis (co-conspirator with me in the soon to be knocking down your windows band The Sandwiches - look for our EP, Reinventing Scott Heisel, soon) saved the day by sending me the Banner Pilot discography.

I don't know much about these dudes other than I call them Boner Pilot and they fucking rip. The clearly draw influences from Crimpshrine, early Jawbreaker, and the Lawrence Arms. Fuck yes is right. "Empty Bottles" is pretty much my vision for the Sandwiches. It's perfect. It's a gritty Org anthem if I ever heard one, and lines like "Let's get reborn tonight/Like a Phoneix in barlight!" were made for drunkenly singing along with your arms around your friends. The songs that aren't buzzsaw punk jams are given over to Face to Face style pop punk with monkeybeat drums, bass leads, and Weasel-style three note guitar lines.

Check out their new album, Resignation Day. If you liked their Pass the Poison EP, this will tear your face off like a methed-up** badger. This is going to end up on my end of the year list for sure.

*This is a dirty, dirty lie. She has a lot of music I like that I sent her. I've just been mega lazy.

**Mest up?

Empty Your Bottles - http://www.mediafire.com/?beww0tljapa

No Transfer - http://www.mediafire.com/?k7bu63yougq

Shell Game - http://www.mediafire.com/?7sdpy9mnish

Wide Awake on Lake Street - http://www.mediafire.com/?nlpjiypzvta

My odd fascination with Charles Manson

2008-08-23T06:04:00.003-04:00

So back when I was on the dating scene, the conversation would inevitably turn to interests and hobbies. And it would come out. What did I like, besides collecting records and reading biographies and horror movies and hoppy beer and sketch comedy? Well, charming young lady I'm getting to know, I also enjoy serial killers.

It would be at this point that the date would come to a screeching halt.

I never meant this is a "look how spooky like Matt Skiba I am!" manner. I just find them endlessly fascinating. It's not anything beyond the prurient. I don't mean to fetishize it, either. I don't view real life serial killers in the same mental state as I view the weekly villain on SVU. I don't know how to explain it.

One of my favorites is Charles Manson. (I don't like him for "killing the sixties," but it doesn't make me angry either.) Helter Skelter, the book about his trial written by the man who prosecuted him, is an endlessly fascinating tome. Required reading if you can handle it.

One of the bits in the book that catches my attention is the part about how Manson was a failed pop rock songwriter. One can only imagine what would have happened if someone as charismatic, insane, and murderous as Manson had ended up a 60's pop star. (I can't tell if it's fortunate or unfortunate that he never succeeded in his ambitions of fame.)

Anyway, these things speak for themselves. The ravings of a madman, as it were. Would we care without the corpses? Probably not.

Look At Your Game Girl - http://www.mediafire.com/?uu0yaxojvyc

People Say I'm No Good - http://www.mediafire.com/?ulkfjlimtif

Peace in Your Heart - http://www.mediafire.com/?jz8iznts2wf

Devil Man - http://www.mediafire.com/?y4foyido1af

Here's the part where I blow all my saved up credibility

2008-08-20T21:43:00.009-04:00

So a discussion on early 90's alt-pop made me drag out those old Gin Blossom albums. Goddamn those records hold up. And you can laugh all you want, but they were the first band I really loved. My dad got me their first album on cassette for Christmas one year and I was HOOKED. When I would help my mom do the shopping, I would inevitably be found wandering the base commissary pushing a cart and quietly singing "Lost Horizons" to myself. I had no idea where I was going (I did not and still don't have a lot of stock in Ambition, Inc.), but if they ever make a movie about me, a scene of nine year old me inspecting loaves of bread while singing "I'll drink of enough of anything to make this world look new again" is bound to be in the final cut. The malaise of early 90's music seems to have found it's way into my adulthood, and it seems only appropriate that miserablists like the Gin Blossoms hold up to my ears.

Of course it helps that a lot of their tunes involve stuff that ended up defining my musical taste - catchy songs, lots of guitars, slacker lyrics, country angst, and most importantly most of the songs are uptempo. They are also the first band that made me realize that the radio singles are not always the best songs on an album and a lot of the time you have to pay attention, otherwise you'll miss some great stuff. Songs like "My Car" and "Hands Are Tied" are, I think, way better than their radio hits (but those songs are still pretty rad).

So once again, laugh if you want (and Andrea would probably join in, but only because she hates me), but this band was my true introduction to rock 'n' roll. I'm sure you could listen to both New Miserable Experience and Congratulations, I'm Sorry and hear where a lot of my musical preferences come from.

/history lesson

Lost Horizons - http://www.mediafire.com/?tuedva13bwz

My Car - http://www.mediafire.com/?gjfquh3ycyw

Hands Are Tied - http://www.mediafire.com/?rpquzmtww0l

Perfectly Still - http://www.mediafire.com/?ntr19ecytip

Competition Smile - http://www.mediafire.com/?balaaaaznuk

Gaslight Anthem and the new soul music

2008-08-19T20:01:00.008-04:00

Today will probably be remembered as a momentous day. Today the Gaslight Anthem released a record called The '59 Sound, a slab o' wax that will likely be remembered along with Be, All Hail West Texas, Versus God, The Tyranny of Distance, From Here to Infirmary, Separation Sunday, and Searching for a Former Clarity as one of the true classics of the 00's.

It's a heartfelt kick in your spiritual nards and a pat on the back and a drink in the coziest, friendliest dive bar. It's confessing your secrets to a strangers, things you would never tell your wife or mother or brother or best friend. It's every dark corner of your mind and every triumphant celebration of life. It's the ringing in your ears when you're alone with your thoughts. It's holding on to your divorce papers 20 years after the fact and the mournful sigh when you see your dead best friend's favorite movie in the video store.

Gaslight is everything I love about American music. It's soulful and it kicks ass and it's happy and sad all at the same time. You can fuck to it and you can cry to it. It's perfect for drinking and hanging out and having a case race with your friends. It's a perfect front porch album. If you're twenty it'll make you feel like you're fifty, and vice versa.

I know it sounds like I'm knob slobbin' these dudes, but take my word for it. Brian Fallon is a talent as distinct as Johnny Cash, Blake Schwarzenbach, Chuck Berry, Tom Gabel, Howlin' Wolf, Morrissey, and Charles Mingus. His punk rock blue eyed soul Americana can crack even the stoniest of hearts. His toothy grin, sleeve tattoos, and "aw shucks" humility hides the heart of an earnest, wounded poet who sings with an astounding amount of conviction. When he hits those notes on "The Backseat," I get goosebumps every fucking time and the urgent cries of "maybe I should call me an ambulance!" on "The Patient Ferris Wheel" once almost made me crash my car. This isn't the mechanized thwack-thwack-thwack robot parade intent on draining any emotion out of music in order to appear aloof and intellectual, nor is it the "dear diary" whining that passes for rock music these days. This is emotional and real and sounds equally good in bedrooms, convenience store parking lots, boomboxes, iPods, road trips, skating rinks, first dates, diners, school dances, baseball games, and drinking in the woods. It's universal and intimate in one gesture.

Mike Park once wrote that when he released the first Alkaline Trio album, he listened to it at least once a day for a whole year because it reflected his life perfectly at the time. This might be that record for me. I've listened to it several times a day for about two months now and it has not gotten old, even a little bit. It just seems to be all my feelings in a nutshell. This is 2008's must own album. Fuck, maybe even the must own album of the decade.

Tonight, I drink Pabst to salute them and my Org brothers.

Great Expectations - http://www.mediafire.com/?dxc5xl8cho5

High Lonesome - http://www.mediafire.com/?49aouaaeyey

Here's Looking At You, Kid - http://www.mediafire.com/?w5rv0eicaq5

What the fuck are you doing back here?

2008-08-05T00:57:00.007-04:00

Alright, we're back again for the time being. Yay and all that. Georgia was fun, but hot, as was Panama City, aka the Redneck Riviera. I found many great records. Killed by Death and Poison Idea are the shit. Also got some cool stuff on mailorder. Miss Andrea, though. Single life is fun for a day or two, but it gets shitty after a while. I'm terrible at taking care of myself. It is the only time I get to watch movies like Horror of the Blood Monsters or Zombie Death House, that doesn't salve the wound all that much. I'm probably going to end up doing something completely retarded without her around, like sending anthrax to Jared Leto or getting P-A-N-C-A-K-E-S tattooed on my knuckles. I already bought a box of cereal because it had a Batman-related prize inside, so it's all snowball down to hell from here.

So many good new albums out right now. I wholly recommend picking up copies of the new Gaslight Anthem (which isn't technically released yet), Hold Steady, Steinways, Sloppy Seconds, and Off With Their Heads records. Expect some noise from me on these in the coming days, in addition to fawnings over the Reverend Gary Davis, the dBs, and the Tranzmitors.

But for now, I just had to post about a band I am super late to the party for - the mighty ass-kickers known as KING KHAN AND BBQ SHOW. Considering these guys are right up my alley (har har) I have no idea how I slept on them this long, especially considering the dudes in the Black Lips called 'em the best rock band in America. I'm glad to see I'm not the only person in this fucking country who loves in-the-red guitars and doo wop. In my fevered grey cells, the Vogues' "Five O'Clock World" and Whatever it Takes' "Flesh Eating 9 to 5 Virus" all live in the same fucked up continuum of angst and sex and general fed-upness that define being American. There's just something thrilling about musicians who snub their noses to the world and go for broke with the needle in the red.

King Khan and BBQ Show sound like the Troggs and the Dell Vikings and the Cramps all fucked in the back of a van and spawned a tuneful, belligerent demonspawn that will FUCK YOUR ASS UP IN AN ATLANTA SECOND. (And shut the fuck up nerds, I know they're Canadian. They are a spiritually an Atlanta band, and everyone knows it.) Two demented, possibly evil men kicking out ungodly jams that are sure to piss off your neighbors no matter what time of day it is. It's loud and fuzzed out to the extreme and groovy and way better than that screamopowerviolencemetalcoreforJesus ear rape you fucking kids are listening to today. Nothing ruins music like the buying power of teenagers. Thank you for the popularity of Hawthorne Heights and Metro Station, you weedwhacker haircut dipshits. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpU78IeTx_c - this is the worst thing I have ever seen. It literally made me vomit. Dude in the vest is like 40 and thus should fucking know better. It's unknown how many fat girls have lost their virginity to this song, but the number is probably staggering. I never thought I would miss the Manic Panic Punks.)

In closing, Rev. Norb is god.

Waddlin' Around - http://www.mediafire.com/?rh5jiyqwnkm

Lil' Girl in the Woods - http://www.mediafire.com/?dizl9ugmrq1

Zombies - http://www.mediafire.com/?4asy40emuwm

For those with more delicate sensibilities, I'm including two songs King Khan does with the Shrines. They slay.

69 Faces of Love - http://www.mediafire.com/?wusnz0cunt0

Outta Harm's Way - http://www.mediafire.com/?7ureu7ugynm

D.E.A.D.R.A.M.O.N.E.

2008-06-29T10:44:00.003-04:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, everyone. I quit my job and have been preparing to return to GA for a while, so I haven't really felt like spewing words on the internet. I need to get away for a while. Sober up a little bit, see some friends, get my head straight. Andrea's going to be working in GA for two months and I'll be coming back on the 9th, so trust me, when I get back I'm gonna have fuck all to do but temp and blog until we're back on our feet. Thanks to everyone who's shown support, and for the HILARIOUS dude posting anonymously, I'm guessing that it's just Freddy Madball sitting there pecking out slurs with one finger on the keyboard. Awesome.

See you guys next month! Until then, enjoy some crap I've been listening to lately. There wasn't enough room for Hazen St., but oh well.

Zipped up mix - http://www.mediafire.com/?0l1aymz0k1b

I'm positively positive for Good Clean Fun

2008-06-11T20:05:00.004-04:00

One of my longest standing criticisms of hardcore is that, as a genre, it takes itself WAY too seriously. The fact that a bunch of straight-edge, vegan dudes could poke fun at their subcultures is both a praise of them and a knock on their scenes. People who can make me laugh are much more likely to get me to take them seriously than people who think their beliefs are immune from jokes and digs.

The flawless Earth Crisis parody "In Defense of All Life" both skewers militant veganism and reminds people that hey, maybe the most overzealous practitioners are not the people to take cues from. It's possible to pay loving tribute while mercilessly skewering (see Hot Fuzz), and Good Clean Fun manages to actually make me pay attention through youth crew choruses, breakdowns, the spoken word bridge that explains what the song is about that Ian MacKaye did as a joke but now fucking everyone does, the word cramming on the lyrics...etc. etc.

The Asian Man Records Tour going on right now has advertised "making punk fun again!" GCF ain't doing too shabby, either.

A Little Bit Emo, a Little Bit Hardcore - http://www.mediafire.com/?nmgmo1ynrti

Ex-Straight Edge Ex - http://www.mediafire.com/?zwbwrqgpfd0

Hats Off to Halford - http://www.mediafire.com/?i2x1xl4fgtm

In Defense of All Life - http://www.mediafire.com/?m1ztgytog1z

Positively Positive - http://www.mediafire.com/?nv9y05mtdlb

Shopping For a Crew - http://www.mediafire.com/?gsmz9mrzjlz

Bo Diddley and site updates!

2008-06-11T00:21:00.006-04:00

So in my last post when I said "tomorrow" I apparently meant "sometime next week when work isn't making Matt feel angry at humanity in general." For all of those nice enough to leave comments that didn't call me a faggot, I will be catching up tonight. Also, I posted the Let's Active mp3's, so yanno, get on that.

To the fine folks in Hollerado, I got your demo today and will be posting about it in the next few days. Unless you sound like Cobra Starship, in which case I will contract the ebola virus and come cough on your bongs and underpants.

New Hold Steady has been posted for streaming. It's great. Maybe even Great. You'll be wasting your time if you don't click here: http://www.myspace.com/theholdsteady

Speaking of bands with streaming stuff, Canada's own amazing Statues have stuff still up on their PunkNews page. I can't recommend this shit enough. Also, check out the new issue of Razorcake, which has a cool little feature on these rad beavers. I really can't get over how great these guys are. http://www.punknews.org/bands/statues

So last week, we lost one of the good ones. One of the best. One of the dudes who apparently still had it. One of my biggest criticisms of rock music is that, with the exception of the peerless Joe Strummer, there was something ridiculous about seeing some old dude panting and wheezing and trying to kick out the jams. This never really seemed to be the case for really old, really killer blues and jazz musicians. Maybe it's because the music itself seems timeless and actually sounds better the more crap life experience and old age piles on you.

I'm guessing this is why no matter how old he got, Bo Diddley would never look silly performing the endlessly badass "Who Do You Love?" He was one of the OGs of rock 'n' roll, one of the guys out on the frontlines making it dangerous and threatening to parents afraid of their children listening to "race records." His only real competition at the time was Chuck Berry, but hey, even Bad Brains had a Minor Threat.

There have been a million things said in the wake of his death last week, so I won't add to the skipping record. I will share my favorite story about the man, though. On the Clash's first tour of the US in '79, they had Diddley open for them. Upon finding the elder man sleeping in a chair on the tour bus on a travel night, Joe Strummer woke him and said, in effect, "hey, you know you have a bunk, right?" Diddley got up, pulled back the curtain of his assigned bunk, revealing that his signature square guitar (named Lucille), saying, "guitar rides in the bunk, I ride in the seat." Fuck yeah that's awesome.

Goodbye, Bo. We miss you already.

Bo Diddley - http://www.mediafire.com/?c54zmmmlwvz

Diddley Daddy - http://www.mediafire.com/?st0vu1m2gnf

Pills - http://www.mediafire.com/?onvzny2zmxm

Who Do You Love? - http://www.mediafire.com/?wltmdgrbjj2

A day of silence for Bo Diddley

2008-06-02T22:19:00.000-04:00

We lost one of the best today. Tomorrow expect a tribute to the man and his music.

-Matt

Southern power-pop explosion

2008-06-01T01:00:00.009-04:00

Holy dogballs am I exhausted. Had an excellent weekend in Baltimore with the usual suspects (and some new ones), despite the parade being rained out. The day turned sour, however, on the drive home. Construction narrowed 495 down to one lane, and a drive that normally takes 80 minutes took almost three and a half HOURS. All I'm going to say that I hope the people in the two left lanes get face herpes and that Andrea's idea of a superhero whose power was visiting karma on people never sounded better to me.

Rather than rage full on due to dumbass suburban warriors in Chevy-made aircraft carriers who are either oblivious or indifferent to how their actions affect the fate of everyone, I'm gonna get the hell damn on with this thing. I have the next few days of the Kids Are All Dead planned out, so let's make our way down the list, eh?

First up is Southern power-pop greats Let's Active, the perennial faces of slightly off-kilter of 80's college radio. Frontman Mitch Easter will probably be most remembered for producing those first few great REM albums and for apparently pissing off Chris Stamey enough to spur the latter man into forming the dB's, the name to drop when discussing pop rock with someone at an awful hipster party. Also, his wife Angie was reportedly the inspiration for the enduring Replacements' classic "Left of the Dial."

All of this would be enough to ensure that his name would live on in the realm of Those Who Care Way Too Much, but those first few Let's Active releases are pretty damn awesome. It definitely sounds of its time, but that ends up being one of its charms rather than an impediment. When hearing the ascending, chiming Rickenbacker with those only-in-the-80's drums, you instantly become a Paisley wearing college student with one of those weird almost-a-bowl-cut haircuts and a Superchunk poster on your wall. While not as kudzu-thick as fellow Southerners REM, there's still an air of murky distance and mystery on their records, which only makes them that much more interesting.

Of course, it's still as poppy as the Raspberries or early Big Star, but the production adds a layer of menace, or maybe dread. It changes every time I throw the records on. Like with the ascendancy of Southern rap years later, bands like Let's Active benefited from the lack of attention heaped upon the bands in NY and LA. With no pressure to be famous or fit a formula, they were more or less free to do what they wanted. Hell, they're debut EP was their demo, which a big label like IRS would never have imagined doing with one of their flagship artists like the Police.

If you ever find yourself driving through the deep South, put this on. Trust me, it will all make perfect, perfect sense.

Every Word Means No - http://www.mediafire.com/?gxw5iitcyfw

Make Up With Me - http://www.mediafire.com/?ezte1n0tmyl

Waters Part - http://www.mediafire.com/?yzyfmi1xnl5

For all you drugged up clever kids

2008-05-27T00:25:00.005-04:00

So the new Hold Steady record, Stay Positive, is easily my most anticipated record of the summer, despite Andrea (justifiably) still being mad at Craig Finn (and the 9:30 Club, and Art Brut, and the radio contest, and the dazzling array of douchebags that showed up). The song up on their myspace is amazing (Steve, break the rules just once, man), and the promise of Ben Nichols singing backup has me even more excited. I'm hoping for a big, bombastic rock record with the best riffs of the year and beats to get you off your ass and Craig Finn will spin the stories that have us talking until the fall.

To tide you over, I'm posting a big collection of rarities, b-sides, outtakes, soundtrack and compilation appearances, and a cut from their very first single, which predates Almost Killed Me and which routinely goes for $70 on eBay. If you're a fan of the band, you're definitely going to want to check these out, especially "Girls Like Status," which I think should have taken the place of "Same Kooks" on Boys and Girls in America.

I've often said that when you get to the level of Great Bands, the difference can be found in how great their b-sides and castoff outtakes are. The few Ramones and Fugazi leftovers are a good example of this. The Smiths are probably the best example of this - I can think of maybe two songs in their entire discography that isn't at least good, if not great or classic. If your b-material still kicks out the jams, then you know you're a truly awesome band. While not every single one of these songs is album-worthy (some of them you can see why they were kept off records despite being decent - they wouldn't have fit), but they include a truly awesome Dylan cover, the rocker "You Gotta Dance," the melancholy "Modesto's Not That Sweet," and the begging-for-a-Jawbreaker-cover "Teenage Liberation." If that's not enough, for those who follow the snippets of story about Gideon and Holly, some of these songs should shed a little more light.

While not as quality as the party album Atmosphere dropped for free download right before releasing the absoluetly devastating When Life Gives You Lemons, Paint That Shit Gold, it should be enough to keep you occupied until July 15th.

Click here for the Zip file: http://www.mediafire.com/?vn0bblxe9dz

Leatherface - or - I hate bands whose names resist Google Fu

2008-05-25T01:14:00.006-04:00

Tonight's entry will be short and sweet not because this band isn't very good but because it's a rare case of the music speaking entirely for itself. Also, what you can find online has been written by inebriated British punks, who may be some of the most inarticulate people on the planet.

But that's ok. You don't need to know that this band is great, or that Frankie Stubbs sings like Ben Nichols on battery acid. Or that it influenced an entire generation of punk bands despite being more obscure than, say, Samiam. You don't even need to say that Leatherface were making great albums up until they petered out a couple years ago, although that's true. All that is rendered completely irrelevant as soon as they rev up to the chorus of "I Want to Moon," where Stubbs' ragged, tattered vocals sound like a hoarse, wounded man screaming out his life's pain in one burst of defiance while the dense guitars and rhythms pummel. They have an intense sound that doesn't really seem to go out of style, probably because I buy too many things with the No Idea logo on the back. Andrea says they're gnar gnar - I say they're pop punk. She's lucky she's a good cook.

Normally I wouldn't post five songs from one album, but as far as I know, the band's masterpiece (the flawless Mush) is out of print on all formats*, so I hope these highlights are enough to spur you on to finding one in used bins or on eBay or the dickfart snob hive that is the Vinyl Collective message board. If nothing else, they should at least encourage you to hurry up and order their split with disciples Hot Water Music and their classic comeback LP Horsebox, both of which are still available from BYO for not very much money.

I Want the Moon - http://www.mediafire.com/?aj9d1mzxmf0

I Don't Want to Be the One To Say It - http://www.mediafire.com/?vkx07zysmwx

Pandora's Box - http://www.mediafire.com/?fxcbajb92yx

Springtime - http://www.mediafire.com/?9jjhrx3myh7

Baked Potato - http://www.mediafire.com/?dnoe2vmyf1o

*I say this, and tomorrow's entry will probably be hyping the in-print Back to the Laundromat, the underrated classic from the US Bombs - it's one of the single best punk albums of the decade, as you'll see. I'm nothing if not inconsistent.

Posted just for bragging purposes

2008-05-24T12:39:00.004-04:00

I still have about 600-700 left that need a home.

The Crystals sure are the group I love!

2008-05-22T00:39:00.008-04:00

What with all the angsting online recently, I thought it would be nice to post something everyone can agree on. It's hard to deny the power of radtacular of The Girl Group Sound. Not just for middle-aged secretaries dancing during happy hour, it's actually a sound so sweet and infectious that even the crustiest of punk and most hesher metal dude can get down with. Everyone loves this shit, because it's awesome and a huge reminder that pop music doesn't have to be meth addicts writhing around onstage in front of children.

Whenever I'm blue or burnt out on barre chords and grunted punk affectations, I fire up the One Kiss Can Lead to Another boxset, which if you don't own/illegally pirate is fucking crucial.

And it doesn't get much better than Phil Spector's stable of groups he molded into hit song factories. Despite a revolving lineup that shifted based on things like pregnancy and flight times from the East Coast, the songs recorded under the Crystals banner still stand up pretty strong. He never gave them the attention that he gave his other groups for various reasons. They didn't have as big hits as the Shangri-Las, he was fucking Veronica from the Ronettes, the response to the BATSHIT INSANE song "He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)," etc. This just means he didn't coax the radio-perfect performances he demanded from his other groups. It gives it a charming, relatively ragged and lo-fi take on his normal perfectionist output. "Girls Can Tell" is a perfect example of this, and probably the best song they ever did.

Despite having a massive hit in "Da Doo Ron Ron," they've been kind of relegated to second-tier status of the big girl groups. Like contemporaries the Shirelles and Martha and the Vandellas, they are richly deserving of a modern exhumation and examination. True fun fact - "He's Sure the Boy I Love" will always sound great on mixtapes next to Dead Kennedys songs. I'm not joking.

Does everyone feel better?

What a Nice Way to Turn 17 - http://www.mediafire.com/?mi8i6nd0dty

He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss) - http://www.mediafire.com/?cmccg2yxezy

He's Sure the Boy I Love - http://www.mediafire.com/?lw20nc9gtpc

Da Doo Ron Ron - http://www.mediafire.com/?4e4tyda3lmx

Girls Can Tell - http://www.mediafire.com/?pdztxdi05j4

Ain't no drama like hardcore kid drama

2008-05-21T00:38:00.008-04:00

Holy fucking CRAP is there teh drah-maz online right now. I won't get too much into it, but here are three things:

1. I flew off the handle too much about Jason breaking up LaGrecia, especially in light of the revelation about the real (legitimate) reason the band broke up, for which I offer some apologies. I wouldn't want to be in a band with an ex, either. He was dumb for shitting where he ate, but whatever. I'm still pissed for the same reason I was pissed before - he broke up the band on the eve of the record's release, leaving his label in the lurch and with a ton of boxes of CDs that will probably gather dust because he won't man up enough to do any kind of promotion. I've probably lost some friends and allies with everything I said today, but I don't like it when people fuck with Virgil, a man who bends over backwards to do his part in making punk rock a culture worth giving a damn about. The fact that Jason has not even intimated an apology on this front or that his supporters have admitted that it was a dick move upset me. For all the NY/NJ crew's talk about standing by your friends thick and thin, this was a fucking dagger in the back. Brian Banal from punknews is encouraging everyone who goes to the NMB reunion shows to yell out for LaGrecia songs the whole time, and I couldn't endorse an idea more.

2. The new H2O is bad. Like, laugh out loud bad. It's not as terrible as the abortion that was their major label record, but geez. I'm not saying every lyricist has to be Blake Schwarzenbach, but christ, it would help if you opened books of poetry instead of the Idiot's Rhyming Dictionary every now and again. The fact that they sound so defensive about having "NOTHING TO PROVE" does nothing but betray insecurities about how they are perceived in a scene that pretty much laughed them out of music for seven years after said major label album. Apparently Ryan and I are in some kind of minority here in thinking this. I loved the Punk-O-Rama comps too when I was 13, but that doesn't mean I swore a blood oath to all the bands found therein.

3. It's pretty much bullshit that Nas' label is preventing him from calling his new album Nigger. God forbid a black man in this country make a blunt examination of race identity and divides and give it an appropriate title. Everyone knows true art requires asterisks and bleeps and castration.

So I'm sure y'all are wondering what the fuck music I'm going to trot out after all that hoo-hah. Why, something that pisses off all the punks, of course! I love Andrew Jackson Jihad. Punk needs more people who can piss off the majority of the fringe. It's part of the reasons I love "Candle in the Wind (Ben's Song)" where they tackle topics about people having sex because they're lonely, how he'd like to have more money so he wouldn't have to worry about rent, and how "I'd kill a kitten to save a human being." Our culture has buttons that light up and just beg to be pressed, an AJJ gleefully slam down on each and every one. They remind me of the Modern Lovers in the sense of how awkwardly, painfully honest they are.

I like playing them for the people in my car, because inevitably there will be a lull in the conversation and some lyrics about murder fantasies or lines like "I like telling dirty jokes and I like smoking crystal meth/But darling I love you" set to a lo-fi folk lilt will pop up and you will get strange looks from your companion. We all expect people like GG Alin or Marilyn Manson to shock and provoke, but what if even more outrageous lyrics were set to music normally associated with hyper sincerity and emotional exploration? All the punk and hardcore dudes and dudettes with no sense of humor, irony, satire, or provocation will give you dirty looks, and what can be a better compliment than the tasteless hating you? I'm sure Judd Apatow smiles every time he gets an angry letter from an Adam Sandler fan. There's something satisfying about people who don't get it not getting it.

They just put out a record on Asian Man called People Who Can Eat People Are the Luckiest People in the World, and I cannot recommend it enough. If you like the songs I'm posting, buy it post haste. Like Virgil, label owner Mike Park is one of the few people in punk worth supporting with your wallet.

I Love You - http://www.mediafire.com/?bjmycnoprim

Little Prince - http://www.mediafire.com/?iss0jd914i1

All The Dead Kids - http://www.mediafire.com/?jllpm2mpu2z

Rejoice - http://www.mediafire.com/?txbxmn10xnt

No More Tears - http://www.mediafire.com/?cqr0y9lngtv

Candle in the Wind (Ben's Song) - http://www.mediafire.com/?0znui1x5m3n

"Why's he asking if she's ready to be housebroken?" - Cute deaf guy in the record store

2008-05-19T23:25:00.006-04:00

While IKEA generally bores or enrages me in equal measure, I did find a kickass shelving unit for my LPs. I now have ~600 out in the living room lookin all fancy like. I still have about 6 or 7 boxes of ~100 to deal with, but all the crucial stuff it out and I have easy access to it. Who wants to party and listen to me blather on endlessly about Little Walter or Coleman Hawkins?

Mailman brought me Fake Problems, O Pioneers!!!, the Unloveables, and Off With Their Heads today. He also brought no bills. The mailman did a good job for once.

MattRamone Has a Posse stickers should be ready in time for Insubordination Fest. If you're going, I'll be more than happy to give you some. Also, I want to go to Philly on July 4th and personally hand one to Paul Delaney during the None More Black reunion. Just look for the guy with sideburns and beer belly trying to makeout with Ryan North and yelling "RAGING FULL ON!" between every song by every band. (Who the fuck else is stoked for Sloppy Seconds?)

Work has been awful this week, so my nights have mostly consisted of beer, playing God of War, reading Green Lantern comics, and trying to fart on Andrea's crotch while I pretend to be asleep. Things have been going really well though, and every day there's another reminder that this is the woman I'm meant to be with. Who else likes it when breakfast is more garlic than egg?

I smell a Sham 69 song: http://www.whatjamiefound.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/09/billstickers1.jpg

So I was in the record store last weekend trying to sell about 100 pieces of my collection in order to winnow it down and maybe giving a bigger Feelies fan a chance to listen to their first record on white vinyl. It ended up taking about 3 hours because it was a busy Saturday, so I wandered over to the CVS and bought a double deuce and chilled like a villain and just listened to the music the clerks were playing through the open door. (How is it that we live in a country that the Mexican dudes with weird haircuts get dirtier looks from the patrolling cops than a wildly unshaved guy in a Good Riddance t-shirt drinking out of a brown bag less than 50 yards from a Chuck E. Cheese's?)

Most of the music was the weird arty crap record store clerks listen to because they cannot possibly bear to listen to Stevie Wonder another day, but Dave put on a record that made me actually pay attention. It was this claustrophobic sounding Britpop that clearly had a hardon for the Smiths. Of course I was hooked pretty much instantly on Lloyd Cole and the Commotions. It's clearly nowhere near the equal of the latter band, but none of the jangly Britpop/college rock bands really were. Having never heard the song "Are You Ready to Be Heartbroken?" (despite being a Camera Obscura fan), sitting out on a humid spring day, sipping on the 'House, watching people hustle and shuffle about to this song made it seems like a soundtrack as natural and beautiful and painful as the sound of wind or birds. Maybe this is why people have iPods (but also why they get the look of solipsistic mouthbreathers if they have it on for more than ten minutes while interacting with reality).

Dig in, holmes.

Are You Ready? - http://www.mediafire.com/?194cejnzzwf

Perfect Skin - http://www.mediafire.com/?xn2jcmelrdb

Jennifer, She Said - http://www.mediafire.com/?jmu5pxgxj9d

She's a Girl - http://www.mediafire.com/?ezck1fjwdw3

The Night Marchers and out adventures in awesomeness

2008-05-11T05:42:00.003-04:00

Tonight went off like an atom bomb. Andrea and I drove up to Baltimore to see some of our favorite people - Ryan and Jordan and Wes and Neil and Violet and other Wes. Branden from the board showed up with his posse, and it was like a big gay Punknews field trip.

We ended up at the legendary Ottobar, drunk and stoned and witness to John Reis' new shitkicker entry into the rock canon. Figured dude was done with that, what after Drive Like Jehu, Hot Snakes, and Rocket From the Crypt. But no, he's back and kicking super tail. If anyone but Speedo had named their band after the myth of dead Hawaiian warriors, I'd be inclined to write it off.

But he came out out, hair still slicked back and mouth still curled into a sneer, and kicked out the motherfucking jams, riding that 60's groove until it cried and moved back home. The sex jams are firmly in place, as is the hoooooo-backing vocals. It was pretty awesome. Also, Andrea and I made out super hardcore, thus further cementing her position as Most Awesome Chick Ever.

I could go on and on about the music and how rad it is (it's stupid rad), but what really made tonight amazing was the people there. Abe L. was fucking right about how your friends are the better part of your life. The people I know and the people I've met, I would not trade for all the riches at the disposal of Bill Gates. Thanks for all the amazing times, you guys. These songs are for you.

PS - Instrument is for devoted Fugazi fans only.

PPS - holy crap the sun's coming up what the fuck?

Who's Lady Are You? - http://www.mediafire.com/?ckzwxtwmzd2

In Dead Sleep - http://www.mediafire.com/?gizmg4xvmbb

You've Got Nerve - http://www.mediafire.com/?cmylk5zb4jm

Ain't no party like a moonstomp party

2008-05-07T23:25:00.004-04:00

When I was in high school, I used to run with an awesome, crazy guy named Skinhead John. Despite growing up in McLean, VA, he was an Oi! boy 100%. He once flipped a car in a drug-fueled escape from the police, and in the days before Jackass and viral videos, he was making home videos of his various misadventures, one of which involved a sword and a very stoned punk kid. Because when you're a teen in northern Virginia and can't drive (either by parental rule or legal order), there's not much to do. We mostly sat around and smoked cigarettes and listened to British skinhead music and swapped stories about our various scenes. (It was like "The Ballad of Jimmy and Johnny" come to life.) Despite his upbringing, he was down with the boots-n-braces, working class, drug dealing skins and their one-two lockstep anthems, and I was content to do dumb things to my hair and get drunk on American beer and get amped on the manic energy of punk and hardcore.

One of the things we shared, aside from a passion for Guinness (which was fucking black gold when you're 16) and chain smoking, was a love of a contemporary NY band called the Templars, the only US Oi! band to really capture the verve and hooligan fuckedness that captivated us about those old Blitz songs. It helps that band mastermind Carl Templar can actually fucking play guitar instead of the three same barre chords played in the same chugga-chugga order. I also love how ragged and raw most of their recordings sound - they set up a studio in a garage and said fuck it, let's kick out the jams. It's really fucking hard to create that gusto in an expensive studio, recording separately. I've had several aborted attempts at starting bands. Usually it splinters because I get sick of each person trying to perfect their own part and then trying to ram our circle into someone else's peg. That night I spent with Josh randomly jamming at his practice space after we got drunk and went to the worst strip club in town was probably the best experience I've ever had playing music. Sometimes you gotta plug in and hold on, and that's the vibe I get from the Templars.

They rampage out of your speakers in all kinds of fuzzy Teenage Shutdown glory, marching in in a riot, stomping their boots as a warm up to kicking you in the face. They might be the best Oi! band America ever produced and would be the only reason I would ever travel to New York City, the second worst thing about the US.

Police Informer - http://www.mediafire.com/?4dz4lzmltv9

Video Age - http://www.mediafire.com/?y92ku4hwe1z

Make Your Mark - http://www.mediafire.com/?mw3qgmrm12l

FTW - http://www.mediafire.com/?yymoylycwum

The 60's Are Over - http://www.mediafire.com/?mylpdymsl5x

Frontline - http://www.mediafire.com/?2seymcugcmt

Pride - http://www.mediafire.com/?lyuonjmmbve

You feel it in what bone again?

2008-04-24T01:38:00.005-04:00

I spent a great portion of tonight looking at a picture of us and listening to Atmopshere's "Painting." I don't even know what the words are - the crying slide guitar is all I need. Tomorrow won't come soon enough.

So what else am I rocking tonight in the midst of my drunk loneliness? I spent yesterday curled up on the floor drinking cheap beer, calling people I never call, and listening to REM until I was almost unconscious. The first person to say the word "Kurt" gets a kick in the shins. Tonight is Chuck Ragan. Figured it'd be something she likes too. Well, she likes Rumbleseat and tolerates Hot Water Music, so Chuck's solo stuff is a halfway point that more than placates her.

We've seen him twice and dude hasn't let down. It's stark folkish music that grabs you by the shirt collar and won't let go. Both times we've seen him I have been virtually unable to take my eyes off the man. Some people were birthed to be entertainers and some are meant to be charasmatic, and Ragan was meant to be both. If you can listen to "The Boat" (especially the part that goes "I feel it in my bones when the storm is close!" bit) without getting chills or at least being a little fucking affected, well, I hope you enjoy being too jaded for life.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm a little drunk. Maybe it's that Chuck rules. Maybe it's the fact that these songs can cut you right to your core and are as raw as an open wound. If I ever pull a Luke Wilson, I'd definitely want some Ragan song playing instead of some Elliot Smith mewling. (Man, fuck that guy. He's worse than Conor Oberst.)

Holy crap I'm wasted. Remind me and tomorrow I'll post shit from before AFI were all dressing like girls. It's quite good stuff, in all honesty. The video for "Third Season" proves they weren't ridiculous. Mostly this will just be a reflection on how a band I've followed since basically the beginning would become a Top 40 phenomenon.

Chuck Ragan! Shit rules. Go to bed, America.

The Boat - http://www.mediafire.com/?zmntm04j2m1

Hearts of Stone - http://www.mediafire.com/?5tywmajz0g5

God Deciding - http://www.mediafire.com/?1zr1cydcnag

Fixin' to Die - http://www.mediafire.com/?1jwsjjzabdj

Just what the bastard karma doctor shoved down the throat

2008-04-22T23:58:00.006-04:00

Something's eating at me like cancer I can see, and I don't know what to do about it. Watched two batshit awesome stupid movies (The Tripper and Invasion USA) with one of my best friends, and that was a fun distraction. There's nothing I can do and nothing that won't turn my brain off. I've got hella meetings tomorrow and I don't know if I'm going to sleep. I'm a little drunk. Dave was better than Scott. I preferred the first Steve Holt. I'm probably being paranoid over something someone is taking care of all on their own. I wish I could find her weed. I'd give anything for a flask of rum, a loud $2 cheapie escapist movie, and the person who laughs when I do.

How many emo-ska kids does it take to screw in a light bulb? Four. One to screw it in and three to suck it up suck it up suck it up.

So I tried listening to the new Atmosphere album as a form of cheap escapism. "Fuck You Lucy" and all that. No such thing found here. It's jazzy and quiet and depressing. Any anger found here is slow burning, like a vengeful ember keeping itself alive out of spite until you step on it with a bare foot. I had entirely different expectations when they offered up a free party album for download months before their new album dropped. It was a far cry from the lashing out Slug we found on You Wouldn't Believe. It was raunchy and battle-ready, like a solo take on his records with Felt. (See "YGM.") But on the new shit, it's like a kid in the corner telling you a story because he doesn't know how not to. Even realtive ravers like "Dreamers" is quiet, minor, and claustrophobic.

Maybe it's what I'm feeling now. Maybe it's the fact that Atmosphere made the most devastating record since the last ballad-heavy Lucero album. Get a joint, get a quiet room, get an open floor, get down in the sad way, and queue up When Life Gives You Lemons. Some of you should make it out alive.

YGM - http://www.mediafire.com/?tmmq9pomyhv

Like the Rest of Us - http://www.mediafire.com/?ojngxzvhvby

Dreamer - http://www.mediafire.com/?goem6vxmhjb

Painting - http://www.mediafire.com/?wyrdguadgxz

Your Glass House - http://www.mediafire.com/?mbd04mtcche

Fuck your Copyrights law

2008-04-12T04:20:00.014-04:00

Pop punk gets such a bad rap, which is not fair at all. Well, I guess if you worship at the altar of Fallout Boy or H20, I guess you'd think it was the realm of tatted-up douchebags who will not ever shut up about melodramatic actions or who their fucking friends are. (Other than Agnostic Front's "Public Assistance," has there ever been a worse NYHC song than the H20 one that goes "crazy fuckin' summer hangin' out with Madball/People got their ass kicked, people got hurt/I accepted it for all it was worth"?) But the Copyrights are a band that while sounding ready for prime time and deals with Geffen, kick major amounts of ass and stick with indie radness Red Scare Records. Not that I would begrudge them a seat at the major label merry go round, but still.

This is the kind of music that doesn't warrant much over explaining. Since my card was maxed out, I made Andrea order me the copy of Make Sound on green vinyl despite the fact she's not down for the band. Apparently she's selling out or something. She's lucky she's so damn pretty.

To try and analyze it too deeply would be to ignore the appeal of Bo Diddley-ripped vocals and that drumbeat that makes EVERYONE dance and the 1-2-3-4 guitars that win you over with sheer melodic sensibility. Good straightforward rock music is easy to ruin with words and hard to explain with the same. Suffice it to say that they're a band perfect for getting high and drunk then then running around in circle until you pass out from exhuastion. They're a reminder that if you have X's on your hands, the only reasonable excuse is that you're underage at a club.

Appreciate this shit for what it is and make sure to check them out if they're coming to your town. Hit up DC, dudes!

Goddamnit I'm fucking wasted. Time for a shit.

Crybabies - http://www.mediafire.com/?s80xyhyxno8

Button Smasher - http://www.mediafire.com/?z1an8ywdlag

(We Are) Cashiers - http://www.mediafire.com/?mzzm90sdepn

The Company - http://www.mediafire.com/?xb8hbhg30op

Planet Earth: 1994 - http://www.mediafire.com/?sxsmobzo40s

57 North - http://www.mediafire.com/?8mnx0ajzcmz

The dead eyes of the city have got me reeling

2008-04-08T21:46:00.007-04:00

It's very rare that I find a band I connect with on every level. Not since Against Me! was bashing out lo-fi seven inches about drinking and politics and fucking have I heard a band that fucking SPOKE to me like a voice out of the darkness, grasping my head like smoke fingers from an old Daffy Duck cartoon and drawing me into a world of its own making.

The Gaslight Anthem are one of the few bands that can sound traditional and HOLY FUCK DID THEY JUST PULL OFF A SOUND THAT AWESOME all at the same time. They take a Bruce Springsteen template and drag it kicking and screaming into the punk age, stripping all the excess hoo-ha and leaving the kicking, hoarse corpse behind to toast you and push you off a cliff all in one fucked up and demented show of bug-eyed love. It's like a sad drunk looking in the mirror at the bar and dimly seeing the future in some weird bastardized take on Dante, who himself was the original sellout because he had this awesome story but hey the Catholics were breathing down his neck like a major label and he was like FUCK IT I'M GOING ALL THE WAY DOWN THE WHORE TRAIN TONIGHT, ASSHOLES!

Brian Fallon is one of the greatest songwriters of his generation and if you don't think so you can go back to listening to crap like Xiu Xiu and Battles and remember to not say a fucking word to any of us about what you think music is because obviously your opinion carries no more weight that a decrepit refugee woman limping along when by rights she should be sitting on a porch drinking lemonade. YOUR OPINIONS MEAN FUCKING DICK ALL. This goes for everyone.

(Where the fuck was I? God bless word processors.) Dude can write a song like a smiling, goofy savant sitting on the porch in some suburban hovel, making the most beautiful fucking thing you've ever heard. From the records you expect him to be old and grizzled and smelling of Night Train, but he's a fresh-scrubbed neophyte who would play you a song then look at you smiling, waiting for you to say something. Goddamned does this guy cut to the fucking quick.

Gaslight Anthem remind me of the redemptive power of rock 'n' roll, of those moments when you're too drunk and sad and stoned and exhausted and don't feel like you can take one more step in the death march we call life, and then the melodies and wild drum hits remind you to keep putting one foot in front of the other, there's better times ahead, and if you stop you're going to miss the beef stew and beer maids just down the road. They can remind you of the balls-forward blasts and the nights you spent in shithole towns like Fredericksburg, Virgina, drinking and looking at stars, and lines like "my first sin was a feat that made me old" make you just want to curl up and die immediately because nothing else will suffice.

So you can take your haircut bands and your quasi-emo rockers and metalcore fucktards and posturing and blow it out your ass like a potato gun. This band is a true guiding light and one that will stay with you as long as you need them. If we ever needed a new band to take the hair rockers out back and shoot them, this is the group to do it. This is the antidote to all the crybabies with weedwhacker haircuts passing for underground these days. For every band more concerned with t-shirt design than writing songs, Gaslight Anthem is here to show you what the fuck rock n roll is all about. Give a copy of Sink or Swim to your little brother and maybe he'll sell those Yellowcard CDs for weed money. And that will be a beautiful thing.

For the hardcore GA fans here, I'm including two songs Brian Fallon recorded with This Charming Man, which was basically the precursor to the band I've spent too many words writing about.

Wooderson - http://www.mediafire.com/?3cjvlex9iux

Navesink Banks - http://www.mediafire.com/?mzuw4izyd4x

We're Getting a Divorce (You Keep the Diner) - http://www.mediafire.com/?daeszrboeg3

Wherefore Art Thou, Elvis? - http://www.mediafire.com/?gdgtp8iongz

Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts - http://www.mediafire.com/?zzeqc9pc41p

This Charming Man - Sometimes You Eat the Bar - http://www.mediafire.com/?mnmxkdmszbb

This Charming Man - Cut the Rope (Before It Hangs Us Both) - http://www.mediafire.com/?maoczj139h3

A very special mix for a very special lady

2008-03-25T22:42:00.009-04:00

Like all music nerds, I feel the compulsive need to express feelings through music mixes. And since it is my anniversary with Andrea after all, maybe it would be appropriate to make a list of songs. If you listen to in the next 48 hours of this being posted, there is a good chance we are having sex to this. So think about that when getting your jam on with Phil "Cuntpunt" Collins.

If you've met her, you know why I'm so daffy about her. In fact, the reason the first song on here is the snide "Got My Number" is because she is one of the very few people on the planet who knows me well enough to call me on my shit and make it stick. She can also kick my ass without me letting her win (mostly - it's not like I can employ the Falcon Punch).

She's gorgeous, hilarious, smarter than me by a far sight, nerdy in the sexy way, likes jazz, old country, and indie rock (and tolerates "that gnar gnar shit"), loves SVU and World's Most Shocking Police Videos, drinks beer like a pro, and has eyes that could stop anyone dead in their tracks. I'm a lucky, lucky man, and she knows it. (That makes her dangerous.)

Alright, that's enough of that sappy shit for a while. Time to get back to kicking ass and eating chips.

01. Ben Weasel - Got My Number: http://www.mediafire.com/?1sysbizls9k

02. Rumbleseat - Jackson: http://www.mediafire.com/?9r1csmyvgdb

03. Phil Collins - True Colors: http://www.mediafire.com/?znw94zcrg25

04. Morrissey - I Like You: http://www.mediafire.com/?betk0dcdxjw

05. Sharon Jones - Make it Good to Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?gz2ycntmwzj

06. Mountain Goats - Going to Georgia: http://www.mediafire.com/?dtkxczydisp

07. The Zombies - I Want Her She Wants Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?j1kkbjgzzvt

08. Iron and Wine - Sodom, South GA: http://www.mediafire.com/?xzdxhqthy95

09. Defiance, Ohio - Eureka!: http://www.mediafire.com/?u222kjmgmil

10. Everclear - I Will Buy You a New Life: http://www.mediafire.com/?vm90mudk7iz

11. Pavement - Spit on a Stranger: http://www.mediafire.com/?mbwx21x3bdn

12. Ted Leo - The Lost Brigade: http://www.mediafire.com/?ggdhj5g4und

13. The Epoxies - Bathroom Stall: http://www.mediafire.com/?vf2ememnixi

14. Muddy Waters - My Love Strikes Like Lightning: http://www.mediafire.com/?r1xbmj23adw

15. The Flirtations - Gimmie Love: http://www.mediafire.com/?tkqcveg9vdx

16. Postal Service - Brand New Colony: http://www.mediafire.com/?ndonbjg7cxj

17. The Ramones - She's the One: http://www.mediafire.com/?upif0gtudch

18. Descendents - Silly Girl: http://www.mediafire.com/?dytgxghz9dp

19. Sam Cooke - You Send Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?cc9jdmmmovr

20. The Pipettes - I Love You: http://www.mediafire.com/?kvxbzzoejfw

"Do you guys actually want to hear that song? Seriously?" - Ari's reponse to calls for "Hey Catrine"

2008-03-25T20:12:00.006-04:00

Andrea's bitching me out for not putting "romantic" songs up because it's out "anniversary" and it's "special." I think the romantic poetry of Calvin Broadus will suffice in response: "bitches ain't shit but hos and tricks/lick on deez nuts and suck the dick." Happy year thing, baby!

On those surveys where they ask you why you drink, they never list "I like my job but it drives me to the bottle a lot." Wankers. Also, to all the dudes on the Org who encourage me daily to give up writing this thing because I'm not down with their scene, thanks! It's nice to know someone's reading. Hope you enjoy the free songs as much as I enjoy your poor spelling and grammar!

I've been playing Jersey's Best Dancers a fuckton at work. My boss will come in sometimes and I will be preparing the monthly reports for the client status update while bopping in my chair and basically hollering "I'm so and you're so and we're both so all fucked up!" Makes for some interesting looks.

One of the things I love most about Lifetime is when Ari Katz and Dan Yemin met and started making music in the NY/NJ area in 1990, they started doing something different, something that was in contrast to the thuggish, straight-edge jocks who had adopted hardcore as the latest excuse for fighting and self-righteousness. They actually started writing songs with about feelings! With melodies! And interesting structures! Ray Cappo's days should have been numbered, but unfortunately, the retarded masses often have the last say in dominance. (See the presidential elections of 2000 and 2004.) If there a god who judged music and he had to compare "Stabbed in the Back" with "Young, Loud and Scotty," there's no doubt which he would find lacking.

"Okay Matt," I imagine you grumbling, "we know you hate the cavemen throwbacks who define themselves by what they don't do and love music that's an excuse to start fights. What do you actually like about this good band you keep prattling on and on about in the margins?" Well, for better or for worse, Lifetime is the band that saved emo for the punks. While the genre eventually blossomed into what was essentially the pop-punk take on James Taylor and other equally repugnant dipshits, Lifetime was a stark reminder in a scene of thugs that it was okay to make music that represented actual human emotions that were not anger, and that it could be hard charging and dense and still be punk as all fuck. They're the reason that the Lawrence Arms can outrock most modern metal bands, and I stand by that statement.

While they're early stuff wasn't so hot (a little too jammy SDRE alt rock-ish for me), by the time they got to Hello Bastards, they were by far the most interesting band in hardcore. The absolutely stunning follow-up, Jersey's Best Dancers, is a classic and one that earns them a place in the canon. Dan Yemin had firmly established his chugs-then-melody signature songwriting, and Ari was mushmouthing his way to glory.

They broke up shortly after Dancers won them their place in history, but they reunited in recent years and shocked me by being surprisingly good. Their new record has good songs, but the production kind of ruins it. This is fine with me for two reasons: 1) the new songs sound perfect live, and 2) they may have signed to Decaydance because it was the only label that would let them get away with not really touring all that much, but they have basically badmouthed the label from day one while continuing to take their money (and, by extension, the money of teenyboppers). That's pretty punk rock if you ask me.

This is what happen when hardcore dudes actually learn to play their instruments.

(PS - I'll probably be posting a blog of romantic shit later. Godammit.)

Knives, Bats, New Tats - http://www.mediafire.com/?0sdbg1bommr

It's Not Funny Anymore - http://www.mediafire.com/?nj8jv1fmdes

Hey Catrine - http://www.mediafire.com/?11et9rmimeg

Verona Kings - http://www.mediafire.com/?td2kp2dm0uu

Somewhere in the Swamps of Jersey - http://www.mediafire.com/?lmnpyn34lyw

Airport Monday Morning - http://www.mediafire.com/?vs4jm0zypzg

So much shit, so little time (ok, the latter's a lie)

2008-03-23T05:17:00.008-04:00

Life is awesome. How often can you honestly can you say that? Work is tough, but it's worth it. I'm putting in long hours, but next time you deal with a well-trained sexual assault counselor, you can thank me and the US government.

Tonight I saw what might have very possibly have been the last ever Mountain Goats show. We all wish a speedy recovery to John. The band was great, but the crowd was super super super lame.

Last night was World/Inferno Friendship Society. In a basement. It was INSANE. After getting drunk in a Jamaican restuarant with Andrea, Ryan, Jordan, and Tyson, we all skanked and pogoed and slammed and fell down. I don't think anyone left not feeling at least a little beat up. Anarchist cabaret orchestra ftw. Seriously one of the best live bands in America right now. My girlfriend wants to fuck the brains out of Jack Terricloth. I don't really blame her.

Record collector news: Finally found a vinyl copy of Good Mourning. I had to deal with retarded teenyboppers who read articles about the resurgance of vinyl and decided to buy Linkin Park on wax, but it was totally worth it. Got my copy of the reissued Goddamnit!, but it was bent. I was devasted. I sent it back to Asian Man, so hopefully they still have copies to send back. Three other pre-orders I'd been waiting on? Gaslight Anthem ruled, Till the Wheels Fall Off is unimpeachable, and the new Cute Lepers is probably going to make my end of the year list. Fuck yeah I'm stoked.

I guess it's hard to explain without sounding like a tool. I love life, I love myself, I love my girlfriend/fiancee-to-be, I love my friends, I love my city, I love my hobbies, I love my job, and soon the weather will be warm enough to sit out on the porch and drink beer and listen to Avail. Who the fuck could complain?

Since I didn't feel like doing some kind of band write-up, here're thirteen songs I've been rocking lately. I guess this makes up for my neglect of this place. Hope you enjoy!

Atmosphere - Don't Forget: http://www.mediafire.com/?etjxq1gmf4l

Brother Ali - Faheem: http://www.mediafire.com/?ulx1jgttmpu

Copyrights - Company: http://www.mediafire.com/?nwsgnabwti1

Gaslight Anthem - Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts: http://www.mediafire.com/?yigglnopxpt

Good Riddance - A Credit to Gender: http://www.mediafire.com/?ybhmmwpy40n

Gucci Mane - So Icey: http://www.mediafire.com/?cmfdjggfmdf

Hot Water Music - In Song: http://www.mediafire.com/?ymwnbtgdc4d

Lupe Fiasco - Hip-Hop Saved My Life: http://www.mediafire.com/?9djrgzvn4ex

Morrissey - All You Need is Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?dcd01zet3kx

Neko Case - Hold On Hold On: http://www.mediafire.com/?yudbzndjvdr

Non-Prophets - Tolerance Level: http://www.mediafire.com/?0glmvj5stge

Strike Anywhere - Ballad of Bloody Run: http://www.mediafire.com/?dja1t0zint1

World/Inferno Friendship Society - So Long to the Circus: http://www.mediafire.com/?i1yzm0fhlys

Viva las Ergs!

2008-03-03T00:41:00.008-05:00

Oh man. Saw the Ergs! last night in Richmond, and shit went well and fully off. One of the best live bands in America right now, no doubt, especially when the crowd is enthusiastic. The 6' 4" macho beefy dude standing next to me sang along to every word of "Pray for Rain" like his heart was going to break. That's the power of Mikey Erg's utterly infectious, heartrending songwriting. Dude's like the nerd wallflower answer to Paul Westerburg, and he writes songs as fast as Robert Pollard. The Ergs! released something like 8 seven inches and a full length last year, and the internet is chock full of their various unreleased tracks and demo sessions.

Almost all of it is blitzkrieg pop punk done by dudes with super chops who just happen to think the Descendents are the best band of all time. (Who says they're wrong?) And like the best of the Ramones influenced bands, they take the template of da brudders and add their own stuff on top. (They have a song dedicated to the Riverdales called "Xerox Your Genitals, Not the Ramones.")

Of course, there has to be more to a group than Simpsons references (though you gotta love that they named a song "The Award for Most Violent Rap Group") and Doc Hopper tees. Mikey write songs that speak to our inner nerd. They reek of alienation, resignation, dorky glee, and the wounded humor and sincere enthusiasm that comes from the relationships that most of us have. I think you can decode the entire Ergs! discography from this line in "Kind of Like Smitten": "When I see you tonight it's gonna be so cool/We can watch TV and maybe listen to some Husker Du." It completely avoids romantic cliches and speaks to me because when I hang out with girls I like (my girlfriend for instance), I want to watch some stupid show or listen to a rad record. I'm a dork through and through, and songs about wanting to drink, hang out, and argue about music more reflect my life than some pain-expressed-through-grunting, lyrically vague "buzz ballad" shat out by the likes of the Goo Goo Dolls or Plain White T's.

For the rest of my life, I'm going to keep the memory of Mikey standing on his bass drum (did I mention the drummer sings?) and conducting 75 super-enthusiastic punks singing along to "Books About Miles Davis" like it was it was the last thing they would ever do. Moments like that remind me what I love about the thing that has sustained me for the last 11 years. I share with you many, many songs in the hopes that such a wonderful gets the recognition it deserves. They have a singles comp coming out soon on Dirtnap - check it out, especially if you're lame and don't have a turntable and thus have missed the last year's worth of awesome seven inches.

A Very Special Song for a Very Special Lady, Pt. II - http://www.mediafire.com/?3odycl1bhvx

Books About Miles Davis - http://www.mediafire.com/?icnfmijzsyt

Introducing Morrissey - http://www.mediafire.com/?4jx90aijpmv

Kind of Like Smitten - http://www.mediafire.com/?v1x1pdjw4xt

More Vox in the Monitor - http://www.mediafire.com/?y261b1gmbqm

Radio K - http://www.mediafire.com/?dw3zm1fcxmn

Stinking of Whiskey Blues - http://www.mediafire.com/?cb9d9hddtyj

Trouble in River City - http://www.mediafire.com/?ft0pjyxzrd8

Farewell, dear Orpheus

2008-02-26T01:29:00.004-05:00

The condos march ever onward in spite of a shrinking economy and a housing market that more and more acts like an angry, impotent man flailing about his useless, flaccid penis.

The latest victim is the soon-to-be decimated (in my own opinion) neighborhood of Clarendon. For as far back as I've lived here, it's been one of the best kept secrets of the metro area. Cozy, inexpensive ethnic restaurants and $1-beer-night bars shared street space with the kung-fu movie rental store and the world's weirdest overstock outlet.

Of course, for me, the centerpiece of the neighborhood is/was Orpheus Records, which has been a source for new and used vinyl for the last 30+ years. It was one of the few places in town to go to get new vinyl (from street punk to left-field indie to folk) and one of the best used vinyl sections in the area - their entire wall of jazz records and healthy collection of vintage garage and college rock kept me coming back. It was the place to go on a warm afternoon, where after one spent an hour picking through $4 doo-wop records, discovered an obscure bluesman, and perhaps came across a slab of wax that had been on one's wish list forever. (For this cat, it was finding first pressings from Wire, the Soft Boys, Sonny Rollins, and Adrenalin OD.) Then, depending on the hour, one could have have a snack at the Indian place next door, peruse tabloid rags at the British newsstand, people watch at the gravestone sales lot, or go get a drink at the hole-in-the-wall watering hole.

I sensed the end was near when Liberty Tavern set up shop on Wilson Blvd. Check it out here and you'll see what I mean - http://www.thelibertytavern.com/home.php . Dipshit Central is right. Khaki-clad Bluetooth slaves started showing up to eat $10 sandwiches and drink fair trade microbrew and nuclear-colored drinks with names like The Bahama Mama. Then the ancient deli shuttered. Then they gutted five storefronts to put in another goddamn CVS when there's another one two blocks away. Then future condo site signs began popping up like zits on prom night.

Orpheus is one of the last victims of this insidious plight. The building management is not renewing their lease, so goodbye to one of the last fronts in the War For Homogenization so that Johnny Tightass and Suzy Marketing Rep don't have to walk more than a block for overpriced drinks and yoga studios. Thanks for making everything the same and for making sure that nothing great ever gets to last beyond our lifetimes. Even the ultra-sketchy Peruvian Motors had a charm that overpowers the 15-story monstrosity you plan to replace it with.

Orpheus has until the end of March and is having a 50% off sale, so if you can, please please please go on a spree one last time and help Rick cover his debts and liquidate his stock. If you have any taste and there's anything left, I promise you'll find something you like.

One last thing before I collapse in bed in a fit. On the day I found out the store was closing, I was walking back to my car and passed Liberty Tavern. Outside were a gaggle of blonde-dyed ninnies all wearing matching khakis and black heel pumps and the inexplicably popular battered-wife sunglasses that everyone wears these days, and they were chattering away about the most inane things possible in the most boring, asinine way possible. The bar itself was blaring Ugly Duckling, an obscure, underrated rap trio from Long Beach. I didn't know whether to cry, scream, punch one of the women just on principle, or hurl a trashcan through the bar's front windows and scream "GODDAMMIT WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET US HAVE ANYTHING COOL WITHOUT FUCKING IT UP?"

I went with Option 5: glaring witheringly at the dumbasses gathered outside and walking off in a huff. The last thing I heard before I turned the corner was "oh my god, this is just like on The Hills!" "HAHA INORITE?!?"

Godspeed, sir. Mailorder is still fun, but it'll never be as much fun.

I know this is DC and New York sucks a big bag of dicks, but I can't stop listening to this song today. Probably related somehow.

Simon and Garfunkel - The Only Living Boy in New York: http://www.mediafire.com/?im99nclrnjm

The Red Sox are now almost as evil as the Yankees

2008-02-15T19:45:00.007-05:00

So it feels like the ebola virus has decided to become a guest in our apartment, as Chris and Andrea are severely under the weather, and I'm starting to feel like death creeping. Woot.

Work's been crazy, and then there was Valentine's. (Which rocked, thank you very much.) Blah blah blah, you've heard it all before on a million better blogs than mine.

Andrea and I saw the Hall Monitors last weekend, and while they were were a bit sloppy (been on a break), they still fucking slayed. Mike's back, and Sean looks like Snidely Whiplash. He's also singing better than ever. "Lord I'm a Sinner" sounds like it's going to be the jam of the spring. Check it out here - http://www.myspace.com/hallmonitors They're going to be kicking out the grooves March 7th at the Velvet Lounge with the Shalitas, so come on down and check out one of the five best American rock bands right now.

So anyway, speaking of garage bands who know how to go off, check out the Standells. I found a bunch of their vintage 45's in some throwback record store in Atlanta for $2 a pop, and you better believe I picked them all up. They even had a copy of "Dirty Water," their biggest hit. Despite not being from Massachusettes, the line "Boston, you're my home!" has resulted in it being cranked every time the Red Sox and the Bruins win a game. Way to go everyone.

I'm honestly kind of surprised how much I like them. Like most people, I was intorduced to the group via Minor Threat's excellent cover of "Good Guys Don't Wear White," but was initially turned off by the vague hippie-folk vibe. Man, was I wrong. The dudes took a superficially commercial twang and slowed the tempos in order to articulate the middle finger of the yahoo set. "If you think those guys in white collars are better than I am baby, then flake off!" was about as much of a fuck you as they could get away with in 1966. "Mainline" is probably the jauntiest song ever about heroin, and if you don't pay attention to the words, it might as well be about meeting a cool girl in school.

So I ask you guys this questions. Which is more subversive - raging and cussing, or taking something commerically appealing and making it raunchy and a barely-coated flip off?

Little Sally Tease - http://www.mediafire.com/?at0epxrgygv

Mainline - http://www.mediafire.com/?5dg94wrazwm

Sometimes Good Guys Don't Wear White - http://www.mediafire.com/?dgmwy2211st

Medication - http://www.mediafire.com/?7xnmldc9om1

Garbage days revisited

2008-02-03T22:41:00.000-05:00

OK, I'm writing this with the assumption that like me you get the fact that the Ramones are the greatest rock band of all time. (This is one of the objective, not subjective, truths of the music world. I'm sorry if no one informed you. The Beatles who?) With this truth wrapped around your cerebellum, it follows that any band that pulls of a reasonable approximation of the Ramones must also sound good - enjoying something solely on originality is the reason we have to put up with crap like the various arcane forms for electronic music.

There's something about the perfection of buzzsaw four-chord melodies and so-stoopid-they're-smart lyrics that sets me off like a four-year-old. I have a college degree and everything, but I can't help but celebrate the things I really love: drinking fucking hard, acting retarded, dancing like a mental patient, awful cheap horror movies, fast food, more drinking, getting messed up about messed up girls, and Mr. T. Just because I can use "post modern" correctly in a sentence doesn't mean I'm not at heart some drunk-but-lovable yahoo.

It follows, then, that I would fall madly in love with Sloppy Seconds, the band that coined the phrase "junk rock." They're the kind of group that I can imagine myself in, rocking the shit out the Quarry House and shouting myself hoarse. Surf-flanged punk guitars and speed-fueled 50's rock'n'roll drumming capped off with a sarcastic, goofball cherry. They're everything their name implies, a ragtag tumble through the joyous explosion of inebriation and girls and running around like a demented child.

Whenever someone tells you that fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, tell them "yes the fuck it is!" Then quit your job, put on More Trouble Than They're Worth, and proceed to get fucking awesome. Their new record, Endless Bummer, comes out soon, and you better believe I'll be front and center singing along to every word of "Smashed Again." Dirty Old Man-core? Indubitably.

The Horror of Party Beach - http://www.mediafire.com/?9ym3bymx1by

So Fucked Up - http://www.mediafire.com/?3ee9u1h9mm7

The Kids Are All Drunk - http://www.mediafire.com/?39yd0om1is0

Smashed Again - http://www.mediafire.com/?8g5girwnrjx

You Got a Great Body (But Your Record Collection Sucks) - http://www.mediafire.com/?eb0j3gi0yzl

Paint it Black's position on being broken? They will not.

2008-02-02T23:37:00.000-05:00

So I've been gone a while. Back off. I've been drunk. Also, I almost got fired. That wasn't cool. Maybe I shouldn't be staying up until 4 AM drinking cheap wine and listening to the Bellrays.

I've been thinking about writing a book about punk rock, like the history of the genre from the Sonics to Chinese Telephones. Every book I've read usually winds down around 1980 because all the drugged out scene fucks got tired and moved on to the suburbs or New Wave. The Mr. T Experience deserves as much historical retrospective as the Dictators or the Dead Boys, and if you don't think so your name is Legs McNeil.

Also, I know I owe you a second part to the Husker Du update. That might come, it might not. If you're not down with Husker Du you're probably not in the know about anything I write here, but just in case, go buy Flip Your Wig and finally learn where the '90's came from.

Instead, I write to you today to give you a sneak preview of what is bound to be one of the best records of 2008, Paint it Black's New Lexicon. Dudes are seriously the best hardcore band active right now, and you should definitely be giving them more than a passing listen. My girlfriend describes them as "gnar gnar." (I got my revenge by making her listen to "Shell Game Redux" while we had sex.) What distinguishes Paint it Black from the legion of tough guys and mosh pit breakdowns is that they always throw in a curve ball. The acoustic finish to "Memorial Day" is probably the best example of this, but the noise freakout sound collages that squeeze in between their tightly coiled chugging and melodic flourishes show that they're so far ahead of their peers that they've more or less lapped them.

I've written about them before, so I won't bore you by retreading the same ground of slavish fanboydomism. They're on a rare tour right soon (having a day job sucks, lemme tell you), so if you miss them, it's your loss, Chester.

(I'm going to be updating more regularly again. Sorry for being all Mitch Clem on you guys.)

Gravity Wins - http://www.mediafire.com/?2jdgmj2ymry

Past Tense, Future Perfect - http://www.mediafire.com/?4ayxmpndy99

Shell Game Redux - http://www.mediafire.com/?8ourl9byiwz

Husker Du's songs and stories Pt. 1

2007-11-19T01:05:00.000-05:00

Back when I wrote about Dick Dale, I mentioned the very tiny percentage of musicians who can claim they invented a genre. While Husker Du did not necessarily invent the wheel, they reinvented rock music in a way that would ultimately spawn a decade-long paradigm of rock music that we're still feeling ripples of.

Most people rightfully regard hardcore as a musical ghetto. Really, with very few exceptions, the only hardcore bands that make a lasting impression are the ones that early on stretched out and resisted the barriers that the thugs in New York and Boston are still imposing on themselves.* Minor Threat veered into proto-emo; Bad Brains threw reggae and metal riffs into their bottled lighting; the Adolescents and Agents Orange amped up surf music for the moshpit generation; MIA and False Prophets threw swing beats around; the Dicks, DOA, and the Big Boys gave in to their fondness for blues, working-class rock, and funk, respectively. (Do I really need to tell you what the Beastie Boys ended up doing?) Hell, of all the hardcore bands today, Paint it Black's odd but completely wonderful choice to work with left-field hip-hop producers Dalek represents really the only thing close to the bands mentioned above.

This all leads us in the most roundabout way possible to the three people that make up the justifiably legendary Husker Du - a dour Midwesterner, a chubby hippie who played barefoot, and a man who resembled a gold prospector. Oh, and they all gobbled speed and acid like it was going bad. And, in one of the most militant, macho scenes in the country, two of them were out homosexuals. They also took a musical form designed for wrist-snapping tempos and barked slogans and used it as a springboard to make a double-LP concept album that was written, recorded, and mixed in 3 days. Clearly, theirs is an interesting story.

Like all great indie bands, the Huskers were founded by intelligent slackers who spent too much time in record store. Bob Mould and Grant Hart, the future Lennon and McCartney of the underground dwellers, were two diametrically opposed forces with nothing in common but he Ramones and psychedelic pop and whose songs put their personalities naked on the dissection slab. Mould is the sneering, wounded malcontent bellowing against the world, while Hart is the holdover from 60's, all airy melodies and earnest, misplaced romanticism. Together they were honey and lemon, rose and thorn. In the process, they fused hardcore punk and hippie pop, basically inventing the 90's. While I know Smells Like Teen Spirit blah blah blah Spoon Man blah blah blah Jeremy blah blah blah, Husker Du's eventual contract with Warner Brothers was the reason you weren't listening to Poison in 1995.

It all started innocuously enough, with the live album Land Speed Record not giving away too much of what was to come. There was no indication at all that the hardcore thrash band behind such ditties as "Punch Drunk" and "Let's Go Die" would produce the bitter, heartfelt classic "Everything Falls Apart." Endless touring did what it used to do in the day before instant MySpace gratification, which is get the band noticed, eventually signing to SST. They recorded Metal Circus, which was meant to be an LP but due to shortages in the recording budget and power outages in the studio, ended up being a long EP. It consisted mostly of Mould's hateful rantings, but Hart's two contributions were the best songs on the release. "It's Not Funny Anymore" is a better kiss off than Mould's "Real World" and "Diane" creeps me out to this day, no matter how many episodes of SVU I catch on TV.

Other than Hart's songs, Metal Circus showcased for the first time Mould's molten lava guitar, a Flying V played at trebly, distorted levels to give the effect of both melodicism and meltdown. It sounds unlike any other guitar tone I've ever heard, and it's on full display on what some consider their zenith, the sprawling Zen Arcade. An ambitious concept album that went from conception to creation in less than four days and featured the story of a disillusioned runaway trying to find solace in cults and drugs before giving up and going home. It's an emotional gun in the mouth and a work of art that leaves most of its contemporaries in miles of dust. They had spent so many months occupying the same house, jamming 8-10 hours a day while Hart dropped acid every 24 hours and they all gobbled speed that they had formed this cracked-windshield rapport that allowed the most minuscule of idea to blossom into fully formed songs that modern day hacks are still copping and dudes like me are still boggled by years later. God knows how many of my days have been spent with "Whatever" on loop, my bleary eyes looking at nothing outside a window.

While I'm going to leave off here (there's gotta be some story to tell later), just trust me that even more awesome music is to come. Sometimes I'm just too damn drunk to write.

*Of course, try explaining this to Andrea when she's stuck in a car with me for 12 hours with nothing but my farts and Kid Dynamite CDs. I'm lucky she loves me, 'cause she has to put up with a lot.

Blah Blah Blah - http://www.mediafire.com/?ay9mtpm2xi3

Everything Falls Apart - http://www.mediafire.com/?awbtzu1wzjh

Real World - http://www.mediafire.com/?a4gngmm30jj

Diane - http://www.mediafire.com/?2d0tmj0znw9

It's Not Funny Anymore - http://www.mediafire.com/?2yb3y6nlpmi

Broken Home, Broken Heart - http://www.mediafire.com/?7dytmtiqxie

Never Talking to You Again - http://www.mediafire.com/?3wbtygc4b0o

Pink Turns to Blue - http://www.mediafire.com/?bjm94sdmtxw

Newest Industry - http://www.mediafire.com/?9nbhillmyx0

Whatever - http://www.mediafire.com/?8b0irwlf3b5

What would you say is your all time favorite album?

2007-11-17T18:52:00.000-05:00

The above is the question I sent, unsolicited, to basically every musician on my MySpace page. (*sigh* I know, I know...). There was nothing else in the body of the message and no subject line.

This little diversion was inspired by finding out that there's a good chance they'll be releasing the footage from the Ramones new year's eve show in 1977. Aficionados of da brudders will know that this was released as the record It's Alive, aka my single favorite record of all time. Lord knows how I haven't worn the grooves out of that thing I've played it so damn much. It's everything I love most about rock 'n' roll - fast tempos, chainsaw guitars, catchy pop melodies, four-on-the-floor drumming, and stoopid lyrics written by smart, funny yahoos.

To me, It's Alive, which features selections from their classic first three albums played at blitzkrieg tempos, is the gold standard for rock music. It's the culmination of everything great about rock music up until that point, i.e. the snotty attitude of the greasers, the melody of the bubblegum pop groups, the retarded sexuality of the Stooges, and the guitar roar of a million garage bands all poured into a blender marked "breakneck." The Ramones made it okay to be a freak and a nerd, and It's Alive is in my opinion the height of rock 'n' roll of every genre.

So what did those I wrote to have to say when asked about their own personal favorites? (In cases where it wasn't signed, I'll just lust the group.) Some interesting choices.

"The Last - LA Explosion"

-The Descendents

"Rock over London, rock on Chicago. Arby's, think fresh." (Wesley Willis, WHAT?)

-Joey Erg, the Ergs!

"only one??? come on, man!

Husker Du - Flip Your Wig

Hickey - Naked Cult

The Who - 30 years of Maximum R&B

Cheap Trick - S/T
Black Flag - ANYTHING... well, except Rollins

That's only grazing the top. Why would you make me choose??!?!?!"

-Annie, This is My Fist

"For this time of year? Silver Jews- The Natural Bridge"

-Landis?, Cinemasophia

"Too hard to choose. 24 Hour Revenge, London Calling, My Brain Hurts, Death Certificate, ETC..."

-Chicken, Dead to Me

"In general? "Quadrophenia" by The Who. Punk? "Boom!" by the Sonics, Screams first record or maybe even "Throb Throb" by Naked Raygun. Or "Tired Of You" by Scared Of Chaka? Man, too many to list...."

-Dillinger Four

"probably the West Side Story soundtrack, or 36 Chambers, maybe London Calling, or Kiss Alive II. Hard to say. You?"

-Paint it Black

"Down - NOLA
but these ones are right behind it
Latterman - We are still alive
Gaslight Anthem - Sink or Swim
Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
High on Fire - Death Is This Communion
Jawbreaker - Bivouac"

-Randall, No Brass

"My all time favorite albums would have to be "this is satire" by None More Black, anything by Jawbreaker, "astray" by Samiam, and also anything by the master blasters, Dillinger Four (I say master blaster to look like a fuckin idiot), the whole thing changes all the time though, but those are some definites. How about you?"

-Tyler, No Brass

"i dont know what the other guys are going to say, but "this is satire" by none more black is one of my favorite albums... two close seconds are "left & leaving" by the weakerthans and "makers" by rocky votolato... "

-Max, No Brass

"Gold - ABBA"

-The Briefs

"difficult question and one with an answer that changes w/ the months and sobriety.right now i would say gino washington's "out of this world" on norton records."

-Shake Revard, Thee Crucials

"Oh sheeeet! That's a tough one...At this current state in time, I'd have to go with The Damned - Machine Gun Etiquette, with a close second to The Smiths - The Queen is Dead."

-Nick?, The Limit Club

"Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison

The Stairs, Mexican R&B, also comes to mind."

-Sean Crowley, The Hall Monitors

"I don't know, maybe thriller"

-The Points (I love these guys so much)

"I'd have to say that my favorite album is the Hank Williams box set that was released in the late 70's. It has almost all of the stuff on it, it's essential for any songwriter or musician to have, it's VINYL!!, it's relatively easy to get your hands on, and what ding-dong wouldn't love Hank, anyway? Really though......I think it should be in everyones record collection."

-The incomparable Slick Andrews

"Not a fair question. Here are several candidates, in no particular order.
Rubber Soul ,The Beatles
This Year's Model, Elvis Costello
Twenty Golden Greats, Buddy Holly
Get The Knack, The Knack
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John
The Sun Sessions, Elvis Presley
Revolver, The Beatles
Beatles 65, The Beatles
Johnny Cash and his Red Hot and Blue Guitar, Johnny Cash
Live at The Apollo, James Brown"

-The equally incomparable JP McDermott

"captain beefheart-safe as milk"

-The Black Lips

"Leave Home by The Ramones or Psychocandy by Jesus and Mary Chain"

-Joe Queer, The Queers

"I really like m. ward - transistor radio"

-Fake Problems

Thanks to everyone who responded!

Please tell me this means a Rumbleseat reunion too

2007-11-08T22:24:00.000-05:00

Aaron has been telling me to update more. True fun fact about Aaron - he never brushes his teeth, so when he exhales, you catch the distinct aroma of King Cobra and semen. Whether it's his own or not is a mystery I'd rather not solve.

So what should I post to honor my obnoxious Hispanic counterpart? How about a band that was recently responsible for news that had Aaron and I shitting our pants out of delight? No kids, it wasn't the Blood Brothers breaking up (thank fucking GOD). Hot Water Music is back together! They've only been split a year, but with the band splintered into Chuck Ragan's solo career and the remaining members carrying on as the Draft, we bearded motherfuckers didn't have much in the way of hope.

Granted, while it was fun playing the new game Homeless or Hot Water Music (in which you look at a picture of an inebriated bearded person and determine if they are vagabonds or Chris Wollard), but like all the other heads over at the 'Org, we were all hoping that this was just another yearlong break up like last time. Lo and behold, shows have been scheduled and they've announced they will be recording new material for the long-delayed Till the Wheels Fall Off. (Saying Wheels is "delayed" is like saying Chinese Democracy and C I V I L W A R are running a spot late for tea and crumpets.)

So why are we all ga-ga gay for a bunch of smelly dudes with tribal tattoos? Depends on what you like about them. Me, I go for the dueling aspect of the guitars and vocals. Like Sleater-Kinney or Black Star, the guys in HWM are constantly trading off vocals and their interweaving guitars battle for supremacy in the mix. It's tension and release worthy of the Angus brothers.

Tread wary, children, for you will not find the overt hooks here that you would find on a Lawrence Arms record. Rather, they bowl you over with sheer intensity. Two muscular guitars chug and wail like the six stringers that could while a basslines snakes in the crevices and constantly shifting snare hits falls a beat behind the gruff vocals spouting oblique tales of life. It's a killer concoction, and one that's responsible for a lot of the best punk being produced in the United States right now. Taking lessons learned from Leatherface, they have forged a deliberate, angular trail that cuts through the heart of anyone who's sick of slogans and would be-pop stars in studded belts. As great as it is, "Take it as it Comes" will never be a top forty, and it's almost as incapable of being co-opted as Big Stick or Scratch Acid. Like family, they will always belong to the people that love them most.

Owning Finding the Rhythms, No Division, and Caution is crucial for any serious listener of punk rock. Trust me, Aaron and I know all about being kicked out of punk (we do it to each other enough), and not being down with HWM is an express train to Squaresville. You don't want to be a Herbert, do you? And yes, I'm quoting Star Trek to say essentially "all the cool kids are doing it." I'm sure you'll manage to cope.

Bound: http://www.mediafire.com/?63ngv9hyycb

Our Own Way: http://www.mediafire.com/?azwvy7cymcm

Elektra: http://www.mediafire.com/?bbmmdnbvf1j

Take it as it Comes: http://www.mediafire.com/?7j1vit0z0l3

Sons and Daughters: http://www.mediafire.com/?49bbuyxhmbw

Remedy: http://www.mediafire.com/?53voxvyeb3m

Have some coke, have some weed, I'm your Curtis Mayfield

2007-10-30T18:36:00.001-04:00

Oh lord, so much going on. Work is kicking my ass, but that's to be expected right now. Guvmint contract ebbs and flows, as does life.

Andrea and I drove down to Richmond last week to see the spectacle that was the Lawrence Arms/American Steel (whose new record Destroy Their Future KILLS and you should all go buy it right now)/Falcon/Sundowner show. I had a blast and I got to touch Brendan Kelly, so my life is complete.

So anyway, recently I was on a huge Ted Leo kick, and thanks to eBay, I was able to track down some of his pre-Pharmacist work, including stuff he did with Chisel and Animal Crackers. While researching the man, I read some old interviews and found out his favorite singer is Curtis Mayfield. I like Curtis Mayfield. I don't know anyone who hasn't at least heard side one of Superfly. I just never explored the guy's stuff.

Well, $7 and copies of the best of the Impressions and his self-titled debut album later, I wonder why I overlooked the man. Saying the dude knows how to kick out the jams is an understatement. Hell, he makes bongos sound rad instead of the province of white Dave Matthews disciples, which is a fuck of an accomplishment.

Hell, I might even go as far as to call the Impressions the most important black group of the 60's. Writing most of their own songs and featuring songs of the heart bumping up against songs of rebellion, they were definitely revolutionary, at least in the music evolution sense. If you have the spare cash, I can't recommend checking out their complete discography enough.

'Course, you know his name because he did the solo things, releasing four classic albums in a row, the last of which is the justifiably legendary soundtrack to the movie Superfly, a work so staggeringly good that it even surpasses James Brown's landmark soundtrack for Black Caesar. Unfortunately, it was the absolute success of the soundtrack that in a way contributed to Mayfield's downfall. While he had some good records released since Superfly came out, none ever really came close to his initial run.

I will say this about him - he was one of the realest motherfuckers ever. A lighting rig fell on him in 1990, paralyzing him from the neck down, but that didn't stop him. Even though he couldn't play guitar or piano anymore, he still managed to keep writing music and kept putting out albums. He would have to sing songs one line at a time, but he kept at it until right before he died. That, children, is a musician's soul.

He died in 1999, but he left a huge fucking legacy behind him. It seems like every time I listen to a song of Mayfield's that I haven't heard before, I usually end up thinking "hey, I heard that in a rap song before!" He's one of the most sampled artists of all time, and for good reason. Ownership of Curtis, Roots, Superfly, and The Best of the Impressions is mandatory, or you're out of the cool kids' club.

Move on Up: http://www.mediafire.com/?dgs3djnwzkx

Underground: http://www.mediafire.com/?7mayz3wdjng

Little Child Running Wild: http://www.mediafire.com/?fj3vlvi50c9

Who wants to smoke the Pope? (In the dirty way.)

2007-10-15T22:02:00.000-04:00

Still not listening to Statues? You're a failure as a human being.

What about other bands whose named start with "S?" If you said Smoking Popes, you got a trick cee-gar with your name on it.

Punk rock has it's crooners. The first two that spring to mind are Matt Skiba and Glenn Danzig, who sound like this weird amalgam of Roy Orbison and Joey Ramone. Who's the Tony Bennet of the punk set? Gotta be talking about Josh Carterer of the Smoking Popes, one of the crucial bands in the development in the Midwestern sound. If you've ever wondered why Dan Andriano sounds the way he does, check out Born to Quit.

Ok, so we all know Midwest punk bands (ok, at least the modern ones that matter) are hung up on Morrissey, Leatherface (who're from the UK), Jawbreaker and Crimpshrine (SF), and the local crunch of modern legends like Naked Raygun. But who brought this sound kicking and screaming into the world before the Gainesville punks shoplifted it and ran amok like basement DIY kids in a vegan candy store dumpster? Smart money's on the Popes and their emotional alt-rock take on pop-punk. Carterer sings like a tattooed Rat Packer, cramming vocal talent into half-time punksaw pop gems, effectively paving the way for their bratty progeny in Alkaline Trio and the Lawrence Arms.

Not so surprisingly, a spot on the Clueless soundtrack and rave reviews from Morrissey himself landed the boys on a major label contract with Capitol. They failed to really connect with their rad single "Need You Around" because teenagers weren't really ready to cry in public yet. I'll leave you to decide whether this is a good thing or not.

Anyway, blah blah blah label trouble blah blah blah "we don't hear a single" blah blah blah Josh found Jesus etc. As usual, the songs should really do all the talking. Hope you enjoy.

PS - Andrea wanted me to mention her name. This counts, I guess.

Let's Hear it for Love: http://www.mediafire.com/?9yd1xbid3al

Just Broke Up: http://www.mediafire.com/?6h7jxh2tcxc

Megan: http://www.mediafire.com/?e09exffygmc

Gotta Know Right Now: http://www.mediafire.com/?7k9v0vxmybb

Reunion Touuuuuuuublgh

2007-10-14T11:06:00.001-04:00

I'm hungover as balls and I have to go to my dad's birthday party today. Today will likely be a jumble of vomit, awkward conversations, and the song "Game of Pricks" played on endless loop. Rock!

Once I get my turntable set up again, I'm going to have so much good shit to share with y'all, including a bunch of tracks from all the splits my new favorite band Off With Their Heads have been doing lately.

So for right now, while I try to keep my insides in, I'm going to be laying on the couch with a glass of water, the new Weakerthans album, and a litany of laments. Numbers 1 and 3 are nothing new, but the new Weakerthans record is called Reunion Tour and it slays. It's like dad rock for dads who realize Wilco's boring.

Oh, and click here to hear more Canadians who don't suck: http://www.punknews.org/bands/statues

Sun in an Empty Room: http://www.mediafire.com/?5nn1t3snjvb

Tournament of Hearts: http://www.mediafire.com/?4bnwbxk0x5p

Reunion Tour: http://www.mediafire.com/?0enmzn0c9gc

"The Horror" by Ramsey Dean

2007-10-04T14:19:00.000-04:00

Once again articles have been popping up about the insecure bully known as Tony Brummel, which led to the now infamous piece "The Horror" by former Victory Records employee Ramsey Dean. It's long and marked by errors, but this is rock n roll, baby. Besides, it's hardly ever less than fascinating and engaging.

Victory has been siccing their legal snakes on anyone who posts it, so I don't know if this will stay up forever. I plan to keep it up as long as I can. Who knows, maybe it'll stay here? I hope so. There's nothing more punk rock than suing people who post shit about you, Tony!

For those of you not in the know, Victory is an "independent" label run by Tony Brummel, a tempermental egomaniac who is one of the worst assholes in the music business. They started off signing shitty hardline hardcore bands like Earth Crisis and have since evolved into the launching pad for boring, bathetic, melodramatic screamers that appeal to 13 year old girls such as Hawthorne Heights, Atreyu, Thursday, and Silverstein. Basically they're the worst thing to happen to punk rock since the 80's New York hardcore scene.

Anyway, here's the article. Pictures added by me.

"The Horror" by Ramsey Dean

I watched the news boards lit up again: Reuters, AP, The Times, Yahoo, and every rag in the entertainment biz: “Due to recent events we have decided to leave Victory Records. Our departure is anything but amicable. We have decided to leave Victory in part due to the actions of the man who sits at the head of the label, Tony Brummel. Tony Brummel is a man that cares more about his ego and bank account than the bands themselves…” It was the beginning of a two-page statement from the band Hawthorne Heights, the independent success story of 2005. They were seen as a pleasant group, playing unpretentious pop-punk and the idols of 14-year-old girls everywhere. But that was just appearances. Behind the glare of stardom lurked the torture that anyone who’d been out to Chicago knew all too well.

The statement continued: “Why did they (Hawthorne Heights) sound so happy in that interview??? Like being in an abusive relationship we let certain things slide as we were afraid, as many of the bands on Victory are, to stick our neck out for fear of being “beaten,” in this case represented by the threat of not being promoted as has been the case with certain bands on the roster. We’re done being abused.” “It is impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face. And you must make a friend of horror.”

We’d all seen Brummel threaten people, both physically and, his favored form of communication, e-mail. In person he wasn’t intimidating. He didn’t appear to break 5’7” and I doubt he weighed in over 150 lbs. To compensate for this, he inked up with a bunch of tattoos including the cobweb on the elbow and “Victory” tattooed on his forearm and across his back as if it were a gang sign. Something by his own admission, he did within the course of a year when the hardcore bug hit him. To further project the image, he was a skinhead, which he shaved almost daily to obscure his receding hairline. The remnants of a chubby childhood still lurked in his face and his belly, leading me to believe his bullying attitude was programmed many years ago at the hands of a schoolyard oppressor.

Brummel was a Chicago native. He liked to boast that he didn’t go to college, but in fact, he dropped out after the first semester. I think he said he never went because of his distain for anyone who made it through. It was the same with his own musicians. The more they broke through, the more hostile he grew toward them. He’d started as a singer in a band, but his artistic efforts were denied, depriving him of the spotlight. The label he started in the wake of this failure, Victory Records, was at best a vindictive dream against those who rejected his creativity. The physical threats were usually delivered via e-mail or the phone; sometimes to the more diminutive or aged, like the computer consultant or the old landlord, in person. “You better watch out, I’ll kick your ass, motherfucker!” he’d scream, his Midwest over-enunciation giving the swear an adolescent twang. “I’m a hardcore guy! You better respect me!” was often added on, as if the reputation of this dejected genre preceded him. “He was obeyed, yet he inspired neither love nor fear, nor even respect. He inspired uneasiness. That was it!” Just about every interaction turned into a crisis, with him yelling, threatening and screaming in a frantic rage that the sky was falling.

It didn’t matter if it was a label head or an intern; but the kids there couldn’t see what I saw: he was just trying to mimic what he’d heard about David Geffen, Irving Azoff, Walter Yetnikoff and the other icons of the business. He wanted their legend as much as he wanted their fame. Instead of a bulldog, the label mascot should have been a parrot. Technology put him in arm’s reach of everyone and he wore his Blackberry like a six-gun. The whole company down to the receptionist was outfitted with one, which they were expected to nurse 24/7, and he fired at will, straining their relationships outside of work with his never-ending need for attention. The messages reached for vehement vitriol, but were received by the office and the industry, as nothing more than colicky complaining. 20 e-mails a day from him was considered a slow day. The broadcasts were constant, starting before six AM and continuing all through the night. Brummel complained of insomnia, even naming the Victory Records tour “Never Sleep Again” after his condition. Employees would often wake to a barrage of messages from him, demanding to know why they weren’t responding.

From: Tony Brummel
To: Staff

I have a meeting to prepare for and now I am pissed off and aggravated. I took a 15 second shower, threw on my clothes and am wet because of this. I do not care if anyone feels this is petty. I am pissed off about this. It is childish and ridiculous. You guys are driving me nuts. I am going to start writing people up for being ignored. I am tired of following up on my following ups. Obviously, you guys are playing some kind of game against me. Are you trying to drive me fucking crazy on purpose???? HAVE YOU LOST IT OR DO YOU PEOPLE THINK I AM A MORON??? I NEED PEOPLE HERE THAT HELP ME!!!! MOVING FORWARD I AM ELIMINATING PROBLEMS AND FRUSTRATIONS. I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE. I NEED PEOPLE HERE THAT ARE PART OF THE CAUSE. AND THAT DOES NOT MEAN CAUSING ME PROBLEMS, HEADACHES, FRUSTRATIONS AND MORE E-MAILS. I HAVE NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER WITH HAVING LESS PEOPLLE HERE IF THAT IS WHAT IT COMES DOWN TO. THERE ARE PLENTY OF PEOPLE HERE JUST DOING ENOUGH TO SKATE BY AS IT IS. When I send a message it is very important that you respond to it and do so in its entirety. I do not have the time to follow up the way that I have to! If I have to follow up I will have to start writing peope up. I need help to get the company to the next level. I want to win and I am going to! I hope that all of you have the same goals and desire. I AM GOING TO BE EVALUATING MANY THINGS OVER THE COMING WEEK. THERE WILL BE SOME CHANGES COMING. I ALSO FEEL THAT MANY OF THE MESSAGES THAT I SEND ALL OF YOU ARE PASSED OVER, NOT READ, NOT ACTED UPON AND RIDUCULED. That is not acceptable. If you think that I do not know what I am talking about then why be here?

They were endless; a constant stream of threats, castigation and abuse. Why would an employee go through that? Much like the bands that dream of stardom, music aficionados will sacrifice to get into this dying business, enduring hellish conditions just to get closer to that dream job at a record label. Brummel knew that, exploiting it to the fullest and riding roughshod over their dreams. “There is no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story is really a confession, then so is mine.” It was no accident that I go to be the caretaker of Anthony K. Brummel’s memory, anymore than being in Chicago was an accident. I was no angel. Kind of like Henry Hill’s “I always wanted to be a gangster,” I always wanted to be a record guy. I knew what it was going in, but I was attracted to the lifestyle and, so I thought, the money. Out of college it seems like a great idea. I lived off of open bars and hors d'oeuveres for years (alcoholism was considered a natural cause of death in this business) and owned thousands of CDs, none of which I paid for. But now, as the business slid into its death throes, we were dropping like flies. Nobody expected to retire from this line of work. In a lot of ways it was like the mafia. It was controlled by a small group of families (Universal, Warner, Sony/BMG and EMI), it attracted the dregs of the society, we always had backstage passes, drugs and strip clubs were practically in the job description, and it seemed corruption was our main function. Corruption in the music business is really a company’s only edge.

A hit song is nothing more than a collective opinion and more often than not, the last thing that formed that opinion was the music. Hits are made by controlling the avenues of exposure. A radio programmer could tell you the song isn’t good and you’d have to say, “How can I make it sound better?” Since they survived on our ad dollars (the big picture) it was an offer they couldn’t refuse." "I’d started my career at an independent marketing company back in New York. Outfits like these are popular in this business; they serve as middlemen for things a major corporation wouldn’t want direct ties to. My first job was rigging the Billboard Top 200. Best Buy was one of my best relationships. The peak of my career was getting AC/DC to #3 on the Billboard chart when they should have been closer to #30; my work earned me my first platinum record. From there it was just one scam after the next. You get numb to it after a while. I felt guilty when I sold a promotional copy of a CD; but I was making $150 a week. It was below minimum wage but the company’s scam was that I was a “consultant”. Quite the title for someone who was an intern a week earlier; and an intern who had already graduated college at that. I was actually losing money working for them, so to even it up, I started dealing some of the CDs on the side. Selling promos was even like dealing drugs in the Mafia: Everyone did it, just don’t get caught. When you find out later none of the money is going to the artist anyway, the guilt goes away. I was just getting over on someone who was getting over on me. I was in sales & distribution, just one head of an eight-headed snake. Eliot Spitzer was trying to cut off the radio promotion head, forcing the labels to plea bargain on payola. But it wasn’t going to do much. The bright side was that, much like the mob, we were also in our twilight. The glory days were long passed and wouldn’t be coming back.

The business had been shrinking since the mid-90’s, with the CD reaching saturation. Other, more advanced, entertainment options like video games and the internet turned music into background noise for most people. The days of idols were gone. Even the groupies disappeared. Now there was the digital dilemma, or maybe it was the digital coup de grace. We all knew it was coming, we just didn’t want to do anything else. This business is more of an addiction, but it was becoming harder and harder to stay tweaked. Like a bar brawl on the deck of a sinking ship, we were more concerned with beating each other than finding a way to survive. The advent of the digital age condemned the model we operated on. The record business was run like the Carnegie Deli. We sold you more corned beef than you wanted on your sandwich. And we charged you for it. Maybe you only wanted one or two songs, but we made you buy the whole album, and every deli in town was the same. Now there would soon be more iPods in circulation than the top selling albums of all time. And they were being filled not with the nine songs of chafe we were making our margins on, but the singles, for a mere 99 cents. Unlike the advent of the LP, 8-track, cassette or CD, the digital download meant people would be buying less chafe. Tony made a very public battle against iTunes, firing off one of his infamous e-mails, refusing to sign up for the service unless he was given special treatment:

From: Tony Brummel
To: Steve Jobs

Music consumers would look at your (Apple) tactics as worse than those employed by the major record companies. I am surprised that Apple operates in such an authoritarian manner when its public image is that of a company run by creative types. This “take it or leave it” stance is anti-entrepreneurial, anti-creative and anti-American...My staff and my artists are asked every day why Victory’s content is not on iTunes. When the explanation is given, people understand why we are not in business together. In fact, it bothers them. The power of word of mouth is undeniable, especially in the age of the Internet. It may take awhile to resonate but when it does, people typically react accordingly.

He thought that by holding out and publicly castigating Steve Jobs for not having the music of the “#1 Independent Rock Label” they would most certainly bend over backwards for him. In a classic bit of egomania, he followed by sending around an editorial to his own statement, which he again circulated. The peculiar thing was his affection for Steve Jobs. At one point he bought everyone in the office New Balance sneakers, which he insisted they all wear as a sign of cult-like solidarity. He’d heard Jobs did the same thing at Apple, buying all 100,000+ employees a pair. He seemed to believe that with the right footware, Victory could be the next Apple. Any time he fired off these impotent rants, we were all required to forward them to our contacts and forward all responses immediately. Invariably, responses were light and the rest of the day would be cluttered by e-mails from him, deriding my contacts for not being moved to words by his latest piece. “I was going to the worst place in the world, and I didn’t even know it yet.”

The day Hawthorne Heights sent out The Real Manifesto, I’d been trying to forget I’d ever worked at Victory, particularly since I’d left Manhattan for the job, but later that day I got a phone call. I’d be getting a subpoena. I thought it odd when only a few hours later the thing came; but this one was for another former Victory band with unfinished business, Taking Back Sunday. Things were getting interesting. Taking Back Sunday was Victory’s largest band, who managed to bail out and go to Warner Brothers. They’d now join Hawthorne Heights in their claims of malfeasance. The phone rang all day. Tim Smith, who managed Atreyu, the company’s third biggest band said they’d hired Marty “Mad Dog” Singer, a Hollywood lawyer with an A-list of clients that included Arnold Schwarzenegger and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Atreyu’s accountant turned up over $700,000 in unpaid royalties and they wanted answers. “Expect a subpoena if it goes down,” he said. I was starting to feel like Joe Valachi, the wiseguy who revealed the secrets of the Mafia to a grand jury.

It was true, there were millions in squandered royalties buried in the Victory books. And I didn’t just know where the bodies were buried, I was the grave digger. Hawthorne Heights hired attorney Rhonda Trotter of Kaye Scholer. She was also a big gun who’d won a case for TVT Records, my former employer, where reneging to TVT on a Ja Rule album turned into a $135 million judgment against Universal, and then-President, Lyor Cohen. Brummel knew they were serious, and the lawyers gave him a chance to settle quietly, but he was like a serial killer: Murder was fun, but he lived to see his deeds in the newspaper, even when it cost him. Instead of coming to the table, he instructed his lawyer to dismiss the entire claim as “frivolous,” knowing it would launch a wave of publicity. A

s the adage goes, any publicity is good publicity. If there was a contest for Worst Boss, he’d want to win just for the press. Victory Records was his long lost band and his ticket to stardom, and like any tabloid star, he needed controversy to keep his long lost fame. I received many calls that day; Brummel was the kind of guy who made enemies faster than he made money. The swell of schadenfreude was overwhelming: bands, industry people, ex-employees; all hoping Victory would be blasted like the Bismarck this time. Tim said other bands were lining up to get their due. Thursday and Hatebreed, two other bands that since moved on to major labels, were considering similar action. This was the Victory way of doing business. Brummel saw it as part of the indie D.I.Y.(Do It Yourself) ethic. The lawyers were thinking of a more familiar term: R.I.C.O." "“He’s out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct.”

Victory had quietly known success in the past, taking more than a year to break artists that start-up urban labels could accomplish in a matter of weeks. But Brummel had a thing for hardcore, and despised the way the “Jiggy” people, as he often called them, were able to turn a hit so easily. He perverted the hardcore ethos of “being in it for the long haul,” “fighting the good fight” and it being “a way of life” to workplace slogans, ironically to satisfy his capitalist ambitions. In addition to the brow-beating e-mails that the staff was barraged with during the day, they were asked to stay late. The 6:00PM e-mail of “I’M STAYING LATE, WHO WILL STAY LATE WITH ME???” was common, a transparent equation he’d worked out where the more hours a salaried employee worked, the less he was actually earning. I was once ambushed at 9:04 with “YOU’RE LATE!!! WHERE’S YOUR SENSE OF LEADERSHIP???” finding out things like grace periods were considered a sign of “weak” companies. Like schoolchildren, doctor’s notes were required when sick, employees would be “written up” and even sent home when they made him “frustrated,” he would withhold compensation when he felt it hadn’t been “earned” and he even charged employees, right on their pay stub, $1.75 per week for coffee, something he felt he shouldn’t have to pay for.

There were also cult-like rules: only current Victory music could be played in the office and that employees weren’t allowed to associate with ex-employees. He took Caligula’s “Better they hate me, so long as they fear me” approach to management. Each morning employees were required to stand before him for their “daily measurements,” a process where they would need to recite the accomplishments for the previous day and what they planned on doing today. He would flippantly belittle and editorialize at will, and then ask that what was said be typed up and sent to him, it seemed only so he could further pick apart the words. It was a redundant exercise because each employee was also required to file and End of Day report (or as we affectionately called it, the End of Days report) where again the accomplishments of the day were listed and the evening could be spent bouncing Blackberry messages as everyone tried to justify their existence.

Although Brummel was newly married to a ravishing French woman, Delphine Pontiveux, he would often work until the wee hours, where is activities included reading through employees e-mails and confronting them when he found personal messages; he had even fired a few people upon discovering they’d referred to him in an unflattering way. We clued in the newbies on the more fascist policies just because the constant firing and hiring was another major drain on company resources. Why Delphine was attracted to him was a mystery, particularly since she said her first impression was his striking resemblance to Nazi SS commander Heinrich Himmler. Delphine’s presence was stunning, imported as she was, but it appeared this acquisition ended up was just like all the other mis-matched Robb Reports items that cluttered his life. After approximately three years of marriage they had failed to have children, casting even more doubt on the validity of the arrangement. I recall one of the first times I was called to his office to witness one of his fits.

To see him in his office made him seem even smaller: behind a desk that was, I’d estimate, fifteen feet across by six feet deep; he’d sit in a corner of the monstrosity, beneath two computer monitors the size of large flat panel televisions. I’d find myself looking under his desk to see if his feet could touch the ground. He was ill that day. Snot ran recklessly out of his nose to distraction, as he yelled, “I won’t let you be subjected to this sort of treatment! My God, they have to know that Ramsey Dean was the one that did this!” He was referring to a promotion for a punk rock endcap I’d set up at Best Buy, the music industry’s top mover. Our distributor, RED, was trying to take credit for it, when really all it took was a phone call to a long time associate over there to put the program together. I didn’t think much of it, shenanigans as usual, but he hadn’t been there before and he felt persecuted. “And if he’d pulled over, it all would have been forgotten. But he kept going. And he kept winning it his way.” “…Tony was more upset that we had told the press that he actually wrote the letters (not us) because he was more worried about “rumors” surrounding Taking Back Sunday and Thursday’s exoduses being justified than the credibility and reputation of his current biggest band… Our situation with Tony Brummel is indicative of issues that all the bands on Victory Records encounter on some level or another. We have decided to remove ourselves from the negative situation so that we can continue to do what we love best…”

People in the industry questioned if it was a ploy by Hawthorne Heights to parlay their success into a deal with a major label, but “rumors” was a polite way of addressing the mountain of evidence that could easily be uncovered. How many bands had Brummel lost? All the top sellers. Hatebreed was first to bail. Thursday followed Hatebreed when they’d had it with Tony. Taking Back Sunday and Atreyu managed to escape in the last drama-filled year, and now Hawthorne Heights was jumping. How many employees had he lost? There was me, the sole VP at the company. Heather West, Director of Publicity; who walked out when she reached her limit. Same for Stephanie Marlow, head of Marketing. Jason Deal, the I.T. guy, got into it with Brummel when his wife developed pregnancy complications and needed to be hospitalized. I remember Brummel shouting the day before he whacked him: “She’s the one in the hospital, what does he need to be there for? I”ll destroy him!”

Then there was Katie Robinson in Marketing, where his unwelcome advances such as “If I weren’t married, I’d be with Katie,” disturbingly seemed that her consent in this relationship wouldn’t be optional. A few months earlier a promising young Long Island band, Bayside, hit a patch of black ice out on a highway in South Dakota. The van rolled, breaking the back of bass player Nick Ghanbarian and killing drummer John “Beatz” Holohan. It was the most difficult time we went through there. Beatz was the kind of guy who reminded us we were also in the business of making dreams come true. Tony quickly signed another Long Island band called The Sleeping; his great idea was to run ads with the tagline “Your Heart will stop Beatz-ing.” Katie walked out in disgust: “I was tired of working for a Wizard of Oz who makes threats while hiding behind a Blackberry.” “Tony is a man whose greed knows no bounds. After selling more than 1.2 million copies of The Silence In Black and White and If Only You Were Lonely, we have never seen a single dollar in artist royalties from Victory Records.

Tony will claim that we have not “recouped,” a term used by those in the music business which means the label has spent more money in advertising than has been made by CD sales. In fact questionable accounting practices are the culprit and we are in fact owed substantial amounts of money much like audits from Taking Back Sunday, Thursday and Atreyu have uncovered. Despite earning more than $10 million, we’ve yet to see a royalty.” They earned more than that, but after over 15 years in the business, I’d heard this song before: the successful rock star claims he was screwed. It happened all the time. There was an equation in the music business for royalties: Once you start earning money faster than we can spend it, you’ll get paid. Paying royalties is like throwing money out that could be buying the one thing this industry worshiped, market share. This business was driven by charts, unit sales, airplay, and anything else you could measure yourself by. Marketing costs (marketing, advertising, parties, lunches, etc.) can be charged back against the band’s royalties, so the thinking is that it’s better to spend the money on promotion, where it greases the wheels of the machine, than pay the artist their cut.

The thinking at Victory went beyond that. Even if the bands did sell faster than we could spend, we found a way to spend it, and for one reason: not to promote the band, per se, but the Victory brand. Brummel’s contracts, which he wrote himself, were a myriad of draconian deals that egregiously cross-collateralized: a frowned-upon term used in the industry where the more stable streams of revenue like publishing and T-shirt sales, are funneled into the forever money-losing area of CD sales. Printing T-shirts can be like printing money in this business. Stores like Hot Topic would order thousands, filling the Victory war chest with additional marketing ammo. Instead of paying bands, he saturated channels like Fuse and MTV, buying all the advertising he could with their money, all touting the greatness of the Victory brand. He even took out infomercial-type blocks of time, appearing like the Ron Popeil of punk rock. Everyone knew the money was dirty, the stores that sold our stuff might as have been selling conflict diamonds, but they didn’t care where the margin came from. Tony did sometimes recoup and pay a small royalty, but it was smoke and mirrors, pennies on the dollar. He would tell a band they were re-couped, and start throwing a few bucks their way, but the big checks never came. It was done mainly to say that if they were at a major label, they wouldn’t be recouped, but at Victory, they were that much closer to that dream check. But it never came.

And if success shined on any band, so came the scorn and eventual falling out. Bands would be deemed “disloyal” or “disrespectful” for embracing their fame and their end of the bargain would be flushed into “marketing expenses.” Royalties were payable quarterly and, before each quarter ended, I’d get the amounts, totaling into millions of dollars, that were to be dumped into bogus marketing programs to prevent the band from getting a royalty. It was nothing short of malicious. “Fuck those guys, they’re not entitled to that money,” was his quarterly lament. The royalties, which ranged into hundreds of thousands of dollars, would be calculated and I’d get the amounts I’d need to spend. The last quarter I was there he laid $360,000 of Taking Back Sunday’s money on me. I couldn’t even find enough places to dump it: television advertising, print ads, sale pricing, endcaps, and then we’d play around with dating to try and make it stick, but sometimes even that didn’t purge it all. In this business people asked you to do unethical and even illegal things all the time. There is a whatever-it-takes attitude to breaking artists; as if we were fighting a war, we did it for the glory. But the things Brummel was asking went against everything me and this miscreant-filled business believed in; these were war crimes.

A very small percentage of artists ever get a record deal. Most that do, never even make it to a second album. That very rare artist who has the talent and the drive to get himself to where he sees a royalty is as rare as a four-leaf clover. But when a Victory artist had this grail in his grasp, Tony kicked it away. If “indie” was supposed to be synonymous with integrity, then he’d sold out the entire indie community. He wanted it all to belong to him because that’s what Victory Records was about; the brand, and the man behind it should be the lead story. Much like his distant idol Steve Jobs, the focus should be on the company he built and the brand he created. Unfortunately, Brummel was in the business of selling people, and they deferred on his contribution to their research and development as a product. Victory was a boutique label that cultivated the white, suburban, 14-24 demographic; kids who’d outgrown Britney Spears and N’SYNC. “Emo” was the sound they’d matured into. It was more a matter of being in the right place at the right time, and Victory was trying to be the new Jive Records. Tony believed that with a solid brand, the music would be secondary and he relentlessly promoted the name, even referring to himself as “Tony Victory.”

The industry bestowed a better nickname, “Victony”, because it was all so shameless. Freud would have had a field day with the way his slogans begged for attention, things like “We Run The Streets,” the conflicted “The Best Music, First” and “The #1 Independent Rock Label,” a claim the rest of the industry, including Billboard magazine, begged to differ with and was about as significant as “The #1 Midwestern Farm Team.” Even the name Victory illuminated his insecurity, along with a bulldog as the company’s virile mascot. He never owned a dog; it was something he said came to him in a dream, ironically the same image used by Mack trucks."

Good bad not evil but super killer

2007-10-04T00:33:00.001-04:00

Sorry for not ripping the Hall Monitors or Slick Andrews yet. I've been having hell-of problems with my music files. Seriously, thanks to problems with an external hard drive, I may have lost 180 gigs worth of mp3's. For a music junkie like me, this isn't a good development. More as this travesty continues.

Fortunately, one of the albums I've managed to retain is the Black Lips' latest effort, Good Bad Not Evil. A writer who's better than I am said they sounded like Altamont, which is fair. They've got the 60's groove thing going on, but they also sound dangerous, dark, and especially violent. Their earliest recordings sound like they're going to jump out of the shadows and knife you for the modest contents of your wallets, and as they flee your bleeding, mortal corpse, it's all you can do to thank them for their liberation. If Robyn Hitchcock listened to nothing but the Teenage Shutdown series, you'd start to get an idea of what they sounded like.

I can't tell you how many times I've seen the live. I saw them once with Andrew at the Drunken Unicorn, and they all dressed up as Mexican day laborers. I can't remember the last time I bought a band beer, but this was one of those times. They tear it up hardcore, and bless 'em for it. If you've not seem them live, do yourself the favor. It's flower power that hands you one of those lapel flowers that squirts water. Or chloric acid. Your choice, sado.

Katrina: http://www.mediafire.com/?cbfydxvrmy1

Slime and Oxygen: http://www.mediafire.com/?0xozljuxztl

"This is my fuck you!" - Kid Dynamite, how we miss thee

2007-09-26T00:02:00.000-04:00

As I get older and more of a lush, it gets harder and harder to appreciate hardcore. I just don't have the young man's spastic energy too much anymore (except when my UCB box set arrives in the mail and I squeal like a kid with low expectations on Hanukkah before subjecting my girlfriend to two hours of avant-garde sketch comedy). Mostly because it sounds like shit anymore. I blame New York, mostly. We have them to thank for the metal breakdowns, sXe militancy, and thuggish mentaliy, after all. Besides, in the 80's, the recordings were so shitty you could actually make out bass and vocals instead of the guitar and drums dominating everything at a million miles an hour.

So, while my much beloved Cousin Brandon will vehemently disagree ("hey dude, have you heard the new "Triumph Through Victory" seven inch by Blood Under Oppression? It's got some sick moshes, brah."), there haven't been too many worship-worthy hardcore bands in recent memory. Other than Career Suicide, Government Warning, and New Mexican Disaster Squad, pretty much every hardcore band I've loved since the Reagan years have all had Dan Yemin in them.

The best one he was in, and probably the best hardcore band of the past twenty years, was Kid Dynamite. Their first, self-titled LP is one of the best punk records ever made, bar none. I suppose some purists would look down their nose on such an assertion, but trust me, any band inspired by Youth of Today is nothing to be impressed by, kids. (That's Youth of Today, one of the single worst groups to ever record music. I'd rather get hit in the nuts while someone blared Bette Midler at me than sit through another YOT song.)

One thing they had in their favor was the fact that you could mostly understand what Jason Shevchuk was singing in his distinctive voice, which put him a cut above the circus barkers grunting indeterminably about god knows what. Plus, given Dr. Dan's history with Lifetime, it wasn't any surprise that they could shoot for the gut, too. "Bookworm" is probably my favorite KD song, and god does it feel like a sock in the innards. The conflicted ruminations on regret, anger, letting go, and self-reliance all wrapped up in an artful metaphor are light years ahead of almost all other hardcore lyrics, almost all of which fall under the "I'll kick your ass if you mess with my friends/all my friends are backstabbing hypocrites" category.

"Heart a Tact" was the song that introduced me to the band (via the endlessly awesome first edition of Take Action!), and maybe it'll do the same for you. After just run-through, let's see how many of you are chanting "it tries to kill me but I kill it first!" at the exact correct moment. KD was the ideal melding - Shevchuk's anthemic soul-searching/rabble-rousing meets Dr. Dan's every-second-is-weirdly-catchy chug-chug hardcore. There's a reason their music still resonates almost a decade after its time.

Of course, like all good things, Kid Dynamite came to an end. Their alumni have gone on to form such rad bands as Paint it Black, None More Black*, and Armalite. How the fuck can you argue with that?

Bookworm: http://www.mediafire.com/?6ysnjczt9mu

Cheap Shot Youth Anthem: http://www.mediafire.com/?63hleqx0bob

Heart A Tact: http://www.mediafire.com/?b2xcdcmvjxf

Pacifier: http://www.mediafire.com/?9zotmbxxzj6

Pits and Poisoned Apples: http://www.mediafire.com/?1dzjvawxdba

*True, fun story. Paul from NMB gave me a pious lecture about sticking by ones friends when I said Madball was lame and then asked if they were anything like These Arms Have Hands. Then he unfriended me on MySpace. Say it ain't so, Paul! My feelings, they are hurtin'! (NMB is fuckin' rad, though. For the record.)

Broooooooooce!

2007-09-22T22:05:00.000-04:00

News item the first: I'm not dead. Sometimes I feel like it after work, but meh.

News item the second: To those of you who asked, the record stores to hit up in the DC/Northern VA area are Record and Tape Exchange, Orpheus, Crooked Beat, Strangeland, and the one whose name I forget. They're a basement shop a few doors down from the Black Cat, and I fell down the steps one time avoiding a lunatic on a bicycle. I think. I was pretty drunk and it was bright out.

News item the second: The Hall Monitors put out an EP and it rips. I'll be posting tracks as soon as I get the songs on my computer. Same goes for the rad Slick Andrews, the best honky tonk singer I've heard in years. Also, if you get a chance, go see the Mountain Goats this tour. Andrea and I saw them Thursday night, and they're debuting new songs for an upcoming LP. You heard it here first - "Last Man on Earth" is going to be the jam of the winter.

So anyway, Bruce. Do you even need a last name? I have mixed feelings about Mr. Springsteen, honestly. I think when he's on, he's ON. On the other hand, he's so painfully earnest that it can grate. (See one of the few funny things Ben Stiller ever did, Counting With Bruce Springsteen - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bV5iHgdRQRg). Plus, the Boomers love him way too much, especially my dad. In high school, the endless repetitions of his live records on Midwest-bound road trips were drowned out by Bad Religion on headphones and a mirror-practiced sneer.

However, since every old-school rock critic busted a thick, milky nut for him every time they wrote about him, I decided to give him a fair chance. What I came away with was love for specific albums (Nebraska, Darkness on the Edge of Town) and hatred of other specific albums (Born in the USA, We Shall Overcome). Super-famous "legend" acts usually polarize me like this (see Neil Young, U2, the Beatles).

Since everything he's done this decade has been a grunted-out turd, I wasn't expecting much for his new record, Magic. This all changed a morning last week when, while watching music videos while getting ready for work (coffee sucks and tea takes too long), the clip for "Radio Nowhere" knocked me off my ass. It seems the Duke of Asbury has realized that his throne has been conquered by usurpers like the Hold Steady and Gaslight Anthem and he needs to fight for his title of Rockin' Troubadour. Like Tom Petty's "The Last DJ," an old dude who had been coasting for a long time realized that he needs a fire under his ass to kickstart the dying embers of radness.

Magic finds his at his most vital since Darkness, and even I think it kicks ass. 'Most every track is uptempo and beefy and a much-needed improvement on his recent folk explorations. I guess he finally got all those letters that said "more solos, less salt-of-the-earth proselytizing." I never thought I'd say this about a Bruce record, but this will probably end up on my year-end list. So, for your listening pleasure, three new cuts, plus two classics. Enjoy!

Radio Nowhere: http://www.mediafire.com/?1lzbx3tg4bs

Gypsy Biker: http://www.mediafire.com/?2bl0k9ccnkm

Last to Die: http://www.mediafire.com/?7ycdszoihxj

Darkness on the Edge of Town: http://www.mediafire.com/?6inahjh9x3m

Streets of Philadelphia: http://www.mediafire.com/?dckomysl3tz

...and they call him Josh WHITE?

2007-09-03T22:29:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the lack of regular updates, faithful readers and pitcher-lookers. It's been Andrea's birthday weekend, and I have been busy with much more important things. One of the things we did was get to see three sets by the awesome Slick Andrews, who you should see if you're ever in the Louisville area. That cat can SING. I'm gonna post about him soon, provided he lets me post songs from his rad CD.

In the meantime, today we'll look at Josh White, one of the best vocalists from the folk genre. Part of Peter Guarlnick's fascinating, massive biography of Elvis Presley was the amazement that many older folks felt upon finding out that their teenagers were buying race records and listening to colored radio stations, even in the Jim Crow-entrenched South, where suburban thinking of blacks as inferior wasn't so much malicious as intrinsic (I know this is gonna spawn a lot of hate mail - let me have it). That's not meant to understate the effects of racism and I'm sure there are a million and one counterexamples, but I think you would be hardpressed to say white kids from the suburbs hated blacks more than they were just indoctrinated by the Aunt Jemimas and thick-lipped caricatures they saw on TV and on billboards.

That said, why would these unthinking teenagers buy race records by the boatful while the establishment felt the need to try and filter the excitement and energy of race music through Pat fucking Boone? Because no matter what you believe, a singer who can sing and entertain and make you feel the pain of his soul is going to kick your soul in the nards and make you love it. There's a reason Michael Jackson brought color to MTV. Josh White is one such singer.

He sounds like a smoother Leadbelly, a poppier Missippi John Hurt. He may not be as soul-baring, but there's no denying that he can belt it out with the best of them. Besides, he stood up to Joseph McCarthy, and I have respect for anyone who does that (Jim Webb, anyone?). He stuck to his political guns - worker's rights, abolition of Jim Crow - in the face of the mighty HUAAC, who viewed him as a Communist agitator because he was a black agitator. Yanno, like MLK. I'm so glad our government doesn't act like that anymore...moving on...

Born in South Carolina in the beginning of the 20th century, White became the head of his household at the tender age of seven when a white bill collector and the police beat his reverend father nearly to death and condemned him to live out the rest of his life in a mental asylum. He eventually got work leading around blind blues singers, who would use him to get sympathy coins and to help them avoid trouble with the KKK. However, his talent for singing and playing soon became apparent, He was picked up by Paramount around when he was 15 and cut a few sides for them before disappearing again.

Columbia soon tracked him down, but had to promise his mother than her underage son would only perform religious material. In the wake of the success of Charley Patton, record companies were realizing that the black dollar spent just the same as the white dollar, and they were stumbling over each other to find the next colored star that would make them money amongst the black community. They may not have been superstars like Irving Berlin, but profit is profit. Soon as he was 18, he started making much more profitable blues recordings, and soon became something of a star, so much so that he became a friend with the Roosevelts, pretty impressive for a black man in 1940's American singing the devil's music.

He spent the 60's performing in clubs and theaters around the world, especially in Europe, where he found particularly enthusiastic audiences. In one of life's bigger mysteries, Europeans more greatly appreciate an archly American music form.

No More Blues: http://www.mediafire.com/?6z1ndncbluc

In My Time of Dying: http://www.mediafire.com/?ahzgtexhgmu

Hold One: http://www.mediafire.com/?cwhztdfzczy

American Steel's jagged words

2007-08-24T12:37:00.000-04:00

In the world of underground rock, it's kind of disheartening how some bands get notice and respect after the fact, long after they've broken up and the members have moved on to other projects. Fortunately, for those of us who discovered American Steel too late, we're getting another shot to see them live, as the guys are reforming and going on tour with the roving spectacle that is the Lawrence Arms/Falcon/Sundowner tour (you better believe I have tickets, son).

The band broke up originally in 2002, in part due to the extreme negative backlash their new album, Jagged Thoughts, had received within the punk community. When the band formed in 1995 in the East Bay, they sounded like 'most every other East BAy punk band at the time - full-tilt ahead buzzsaw punk thrash with yelled, throaty vocals. 1999's Rogue's March was well-received too. It was still buzzsaw punk, but roots songcraft was peeking its head through the wail, and guitarist Ryan's battle with luekemia fueled the lyrics and gave it an emotional edge one didn't really kind in the political stronghold that is the East Bay scene.

However, 2001's Jagged Thoughts really pissed off a lot of stupid people, which is a damn shame. It's an incredible record. It's a forerunner to the distortion-free rock'n'roll/folk-punk that's all the rage these days with the kids (and me), and the songs are incredibly well-written. They sound like your favorite local band running though a set of Motown covers with new lyrics, especially on the jumpy, ultra-catchy "Lonely All the Time." The anthemic "Shrapnel" is still one of my favorite songs, and you can be sure that when I see them on stage, I'll be right up front singing every word at the top of my lungs. Every song sounds like it was put through the rigors to make it as good as possible. Even the bash'n'crash numbers like "Turn it Out" sound well-conceived and meticulous (in a good way). The record stands as one of the best punk albums of the 00's, and fortunately, most people are coming around to it. Here's hoping the boys are better received this time around.

Shrapnel: http://www.mediafire.com/?a3uo0gucdbf

New Religion Every Day: http://www.mediafire.com/?4m2de1w4nh1

Lonely All the Time: http://www.mediafire.com/?ciy10zlxoxb

Maria: http://www.mediafire.com/?agxr3dnpncc

Prairie Home Invasion

2007-08-22T00:39:00.001-04:00

Ever since Jello Biafra was attacked by thugs who made MaximumRockNRoll seem like Tiger Beat, he hasn't really been able to perform, at least up to his own standards. When he fronted Dead Kennedys, he was a hellcat prowling the stage, seeming like a rubber band coated in sulfuric acid ready to snap in the eye of any given audience member. After his assault gave him a limp, he came to the conclusion that just because people would pay to see him sing in a rock band doesn't mean that he should charge to that effect. After all, he couldn't give the all he had always given, so why make people pay to see some gimp hobble and warble?

In a lot of ways, his insistence on purity and credibility is more than a bit annoying to those of us who don't give a fuck and just want to see our hero belt out songs. You think Dean Martin fans give a shit when he got fat(ter) and old(er)? Hell no.

Anyway, it meant that his musical output was limited to collaborations with existing bands, and he's done quality work with DOA, NoMeansNo, the Ministry, and the Melvins. There was one, though, that was left field even by Jello's standards. He did a record with Mojo Nixon & the Toadliquors, and it might be the best alt-country album of all time. Yes, I include Uncle Tupelo and Lucero in that statement.

It's a rollicking, rocking romp through country's past, done up with a punk rock piss-take puking all over everything. How else would you describe a version of "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" being redone as a pro-choice anthem called "Will the Fetus Be Aborted"? Jello never was subtle in his targets, but at least it's not all one-sided ranting. "Love Me, I'm Liberal" updates the Phil Ochs classic for the age of the Tipper Gores and Hillary Clintons, i.e. just because you grew up listening to the Jefferson Airplane doesn't mean you're any less of the problem or any more of the solution.

The most venom is saved for Jello's own generation, though. At the time this record was released, many of the former punk/hardcore/indie icons of the 80's were adopting the mantle of "alternative" in order to sell records. "Buy My Snake Oil" is a winding, 9-minute screed against "boring white music for boring white people" that whines about how much "life sucks 'cause it ain't easy." It's been 13 years since the song was written, and it could just as easily be about whiny gasbags like Thursday or My Chemical Romance. The fact that's a barrelhouse country-rock songs makes it all the better.

I guess my only complaint would be that Mojo's personality doesn't really get to shine as much as it does on his solo records. "Let's Go Burn Ole Nashville Down" and "Are You Drinkin' With Me, Jesus?" get close to Mojo's subversive take on country music, but it seems odd pitting funny songs up against Jello's sardonic rants, but it does work. I guess you have to hear "Burgers of Wrath" and "Mascot Mania" together to see how they fit together.

For people who wondered what it would be like if Merle Haggard had sung about beating up people at the country club.

Buy My Snake Oil: http://www.mediafire.com/?2nbjyfdv1mk

Love Me, I'm Liberal!: http://www.mediafire.com/?023cydmxzuf

Are You Drinkin' With Me Jesus?:http://www.mediafire.com/?bnyicoeet1l

You mean there's a NEW Mexico?

2007-08-20T22:13:00.000-04:00

I hope the title will make sense later. Maybe not. I'm drinking and writing, and we all know good things happen when I combine two of my favorite pursuits.

Legend has it that reggae was invented in one particularly brutal summer in Jamaica. Word was that the local groups couldn't play rocksteady and ska because it was too hot to do music even that jumpy (and rocksteady was still pretty languid), so they played a molasses-slow take on their repertoires and lo and behold, a new genre was born.

Music is hard work. Ask one of the coolest and hardest-working bands in the city, JP McDemott and Western Bop, what it's like to play three one-hour sets in the summer in the Quarry House when the air conditioning is (of course) out. Patting Bob Newscaster on the back is like slapping a waterfall.

The thing I'm getting at (fuckin' finally, right?) is that sometimes it's too hot to go off, especially in the day and age of holes in the ozone layer. So don't let my current punk kick be mistaken for something that has been going on for the whole summer. There was a stretch here this summer that was too damn fry-a-riffic for uptempo music. When it's 100 degrees outside and the humidity is enough to rehydrate jerky, it's time to break out the blues records. A favorite over this last heat wave was Sonny Boy Williamson II (get the title line now?).

Sonny Boy, aka Rice Miller, specialized in a style of blues in which even then shitkicking numbers sounded like a slow burn, like being apathetic about having a hot iron fall on your arm, but exactly 6.75 times more tuneful. (I think the Cap City Amber Ale, courtesy of my awesome roommate Chris, is kicking in, buoys and gulls. Rock!) It's the perfect music for when it's too hot too move or drink too much, and you lay around sweating lightly and using every bit of available brainpower wishing it weren't so damn hot. It seems almost ironic to me that a musician of such passion and skill is the perfect soundtrack for days of motionless, lazy sprawling about.

There ain't much to say that hasn't been said already, although I would like to point out again that he taught Howlin' Wolf how to play harmonica, which is more than enough for veneration. He also wrote one of the single most badass songs ever written, "Your Funeral and My Trial." I listened to this song pretty much constantly in college, and my roommate Jon and I had dubbed it the "bitch I WILL kill you" song. It's great for sitting on an elevated porch, drinking Stroh's, and breathing that Southern air. God those were the days.

This has turned out to be more about me than the musician in question. I would apologize, but music is all about the personal.

Your Funeral and My Trial: http://www.mediafire.com/?7tv1jyxvttm

Fattening Frogs for Snakes: http://www.mediafire.com/?5c1vn40o119

Keep Your Hands Out Of My Pocket: http://www.mediafire.com/?exllbcym3df

Sad to Be Alone: http://www.mediafire.com/?bxnog2ydovn

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

2007-08-20T00:16:00.000-04:00

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: http://www.mediafire.com/?dtgtacgsmm6

The Cobra and the Man-Whore: http://www.mediafire.com/?4gzgvrxh0yq

I'll Always Be a Cobra Skull (Fuck Off): http://www.mediafire.com/?ann2wbmnygv

Weakerthans sneak peek

2007-08-01T10:36:00.001-04:00

So I'm totally gay for the Weakerthans. It's a fact. I know it, you know it, the American people know it. Despite some of my intial criticism of their last record, Reconstruction Site really won me over, and despite all the sheen, songs like "Plea From a Cat Named Virtue," "Psalm For the Elks Lodge Last Call" and "One Great City!" ranked easily with their previous stunning work (including Left and Leaving, one of the most affecting rock albums ever produced).

Thanks to StereoGum, who I'm basically stealing from, a new track from their upcoming album - four years in the making - has surfaced, giving us a preview of the LP to come. When I first heard "Night Windows," my gut was "it's really good, but it's standard issue Weakerthans." After playing it 50 times a day on loop, my opinion is the same, but with a much more positive connotation. I don't want the Weakerthans to change too much because they got it so damn right just out of the gate.

Four years is a long time, but quality is worth waiting for, kids. Reunion Tour hits stores September 25th.

Night Windows: http://www.mediafire.com/?b9wzy2ttmjf

"Music is the new pornography!"

2007-07-30T11:14:00.000-04:00

The above quote is from Jimmy Swaggart, one of the most deplorable hypocrites ever to pick up a microphone. After exposing a fellow minister's adulterous affair and Jim Bakker's various dalliances (referring to Bakker as "a cancer on the body of Christ"), he was busted with a prostitute, which led to one of the funniest TV cries of all time. Three years later, he was busted with another hooker ("God told me it's falt-out none of your business"), and his fellowship's revenues fell by 85% while he continued giving himself a $350,000 annual salary. I didn't know Jesus was doing it for the Benjamins, dude!

I hate the Swaggarts of the world, who want to tell each and every one of us how to live and condemn as sins things they personally find immoral, but can't seem to keep their hands out of the methed-out-gay-sex cookie jar. Now, don't get me wrong - there's nothing wrong with people who enjoy controlled-substance-enhanced sodomy. To each their own, blah blah blah. But when you get on that soap box and scream "SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN!" at people for things you yourself do all while bilking them out of their money with threats of fiery torment, you're a despicable human being. ATTENTION CHRISTIAN LEADERS OF THE WORLD - LET'S FEED AND CLOTHE EVERY PERSON ON THE PLANET WHO WANTS FOR BOTH WHILE WORKING TO END WAR, THEN WE'LL TALK ABOUT GAY SEX AND SONG LYRICS AND ABORTION.

Sorry about that, boys and girls. I came across that quote while looking for info on the latest from the New Pornographers, and it angried up my blood something fierce. Which is odd, considered how relaxed their new LP is. (I am King of the Segues.) It drops in a couple weeks, and I'm not sure how the public is going to react. I for one was taken aback by how mellow it is compared to the rest of their catalogue. Like most NP fans, I was madly in love with their chirpy, uptempo power pop, and wasn't sure how to take the advance single "My Rights Versus Yours," which reminded me of nothing so much as the Shins and yindie movie soundtracks.

Well, I've had Challengers for a few weeks now, and it's definitely a grower. Dan Bejar (still in the throes of his Lou Reed/Frank Black obsession) continues to make me wonder why he's wasting his time in Destroyer, and AC Newman offers up only two uptempo vamps, the catchy "Mutiny, I Promise You" and "All the Things That Go to Make Heaven and Earth." Other than that, the rest of the album is given over to numbers like the stately title track, the shuffling "Go Places" (both featuring gorgeous lead vocals from Neko Case), the new wave vocal pop of "All the Old Showstoppers," and the vocal trade-offs of "Adventures in Solitude." Expect to hear the first third of the astounding "Unguided" sometime on Scrubs, backwards tapeloops and all.

While it's not the immediate classic its precessor was, Challengers is a highly enjoyable record that, once it sinks in, has a high replay factor. 2007 is shaping up to be a pretty killer year for good music, and this record is one more brick in that argument.

Mutiny, I Promise You: http://www.mediafire.com/?1nddgdzvhjz

Challengers: http://www.mediafire.com/?dgegv0ggujz

Myriad Harbour: http://www.mediafire.com/?7poyelx91e1

Failsafe: http://www.mediafire.com/?dnqmcnnp4mt

Apologies are for pussies

2007-07-26T00:25:00.000-04:00

And I make no goddamn apologies for liking Judas Priest. Some people look at the short film Heavy Metal Parking Lot and think "whadda buncha wasteoid heshers." I look at it and think "wow, a bunch of drunks who yell and like underage tang. It's like being back on the Atlanta rock scene."

Part of the reason I love these howling band of Limeys is because they supposedly inspired a bnch of teenagers to kill themselves via the old "we're parents of retard metalheads maybe we can get some money out of our tragedy" lawsuit. Stained Class wasn't a bad record, but if I were going to kill myself over an album, it at least would be something worthy, like Dear You.

Priest would be cool if for nothing than Beavis and Butthead's eternal worship via their endless "breakin' the law!" air guitar riffs, but Rob Halford was one of the best howlers in metal history, and he was usually surrounded by guitarists who were rockin' but never (allat) masturbatory. Also, since Rob Halford is gay, it's fun to imagine a bunch of metal dudes rocking out to songs like "Jawbreaker" and thinking "these rednecks are kicking it to a song about making a guy fellate you at knifepoint...AWESOME!"

If you're not rocking the Priest, I'm not sure I can trust you. They come recommended by no less than Matthew Good and Craig Finn. If you can't trust them and me, who can you trust?

Hot Rockin': http://www.mediafire.com/?0dxfxxxwdcu

Bloodstone: http://www.mediafire.com/?cwl21su0nyy

Breakin' the Law: http://www.mediafire.com/?2r3ygo9dev0

Sweet Gene Vincent

2007-07-22T21:35:00.000-04:00

Sweet god sorry for disappearing. Andrea and I are getting ready to move, and things have just been crazy. First things first, big ups to JP McDermott and Western Bop for absolutely killing it last Saturday at the Quarry House. Starting in August, every Saturday is rockabilly night at QH. Kicking it off are JP and the Gully Jimson Quartet, two rad acts that will be better than anything else you could see that night. Have fun at the RNR Lounge, LOSERS.

Also, happy premature birthday to Sean Crowley of the Hall Monitors fame! The party was awesome, in spite of/because of George from the Points putting his head through the window and the extensive keg testing and the half naked man doing the hula hoop dance. I think "style" is what the hep cats are calling it these days.

ANYWAY. Now that we're all caught up, I'll try to give you all some more music. Andrea, Chris, and I are moving into our new place this Saturday (beer and pizza for anyone who shows up to help), so updates will continue to be intermittent. In the meantime, check out the new discs from the Methadones, the Arrivals (more on them later), Queens of the Stoneage, and Pharoahe Monch. Those'll hold you over until yours truly is done getting the internet set up and/or spending my whole paycheck at Kohl's and Bloodbath & Beyond.

If you'ver ever seen live footage of Gene Vincent and wondered why he moved the way he did (aka like the Carvel leprechaun version of Elvis), well, it's cause he was in a motorcycle accident. However, he didn't die like a pussy, he just had a limp and chronic pain for the rest of his life. The fact that he had any stage moves at all is pretty incredible, considering. I guess that's what rock 'n' roll does to you. Hell, thanks to beer and bachelor food I'm a lazy, outtashape piece of shit, but when JP and his merry band of groovecats lock onto that indestructible groove, even I get up and shake my moneymaker. In your FACE, Justin Timberlake.

Anyway, while I don't have much affection for "Be Bop a Lula" (his biggest hit) because it's a little slow and forced for my tastes, when Gene and the Blue Caps were on, they were ON. Songs about car crashes, drag racing with the devil, knocking down your girl's door, gun toting chicks, and cruisin' around looking to kick some ass all add up to sheer, unmitigated awesome. There's a reason a real prick like John Lennon looked up to him. While he didn't have the good taste to die young like Eddie Cochran did, at least he managed to screw over the IRS before moving to England for one last spurt of popularity abroad. While he did commit the ultimate rock betrayal of getting fat and singing "progressive" songs (the best of which is "Born a Rolling Stone," which sounds NOTHING like the hiccuping rebel of yore), those early songs still stand the test of time, and i wholly recommend seeking out the boxset if you can find it.

ONE FUN FACT ABOUT GENE VINCENT: The night Cochran died in a car with Vincent, the latter man's Gretsch was impounded. Soon to be famous britrocker Dave Dee was a police cadet at the time, and taught himself how to play on the guitar. Earlier that night, the guitar had been carried to the crashed limo by Mark Feld, aka Marc Bolan, aka T Rex, aka That Band That Was Awesome Half the Time But Spent the Other Half Singing Folky Unicorn Horseshit. Now you know.

Cruisin': http://www.mediafire.com/?3g41cihs1uy

Blue Jean Bop: http://www.mediafire.com/?cjditdjsdyf

Race With the Devil: http://www.mediafire.com/?ejyjulljix5

Hold Me Hug Me Rock Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?2bltywxzhyx

Born to Be a Rollin' Stone: http://www.mediafire.com/?5m2z4tg2n3u

Large and in charge? Bet your ass.

2007-07-13T00:45:00.000-04:00

Goddammit if you don't just instantly fall in love with Big Mama Thornton then you HAVE NO FUCKING SOUL TO SPEAK OF. God, this woman could belt the blues like they were meant to be belt, with balls and gusto and sweat and sexual confidence. It takes only one listen to her version of "Hound Dog" to completely and immediately understand why a young Elvis P. wanted to make it his own. And while I would gladly spend all day expounding on Elvis and why he was killer, but for all his talent, even he could only invest "Hound Dog" with maybe 1/2 the zest 'n' zeal that Thornton seems to spew with the greatest of ease.

Of course, this pony had more than one trick. She could do the juke joint jumpers with the best of them, but she could also wrangle a tear out of the most cynical, worldweary of souls. And that, ladies and gentleman, is the very fucking definition of a well-rounded entertainers. Someone who can make you dance and sob in about a ten minute timespan is a precious artistic commodity and never ever ever EVER take those people for granted. They are as important as the most visionary architect or the strongest political leader. 'Cause you see, brothers and sisters, we are all complicated machines full of tiny bits of EVERYTHING, and the only way we stay sane is by regulating these little bits into strands of consistency. The people like Big Mama Thornton who can, at will, summon different threads of the tapestry that is our innermost fucking being are the people who remind us we're human, that despite our pretensions of neckties and nice furniture and urbane sophistication that we are dirty sweaty animals put on this planet to eat, mate and FEEL.

She was a drunk that played until she died, one of the great performers of this century spending her last night on this world in modern-day flophouse. To all you spindly jagoffs who live in your cocoons of delusion, living off your residuals check, THAT is a fucking musician. The people who sweat it out in bars and basements and rec centers are the ones who mean it. I'm looking at you, Boy George.

Hound Dog: http://www.mediafire.com/?5diyvsz3cco

Black Rat: http://www.mediafire.com/?6z2tzo2szg1

Life Goes On: http://www.mediafire.com/?3jjleummgy1

Me and My Chauffeur: http://www.mediafire.com/?5fanbmvq0wu

It means WHAT in Swedish? - Millencolin

2007-07-12T02:26:00.000-04:00

So apparently iTunes is fucking up the mix CDs I made for my girlfriend. Go to hell Steve Jobs for using your evil scheme to ruin my gift of love!

I love Millencolin. I admit it. I may not be the loudest advocate of their early work, but you can't deny the goofy charm to songs like "Lozin; Must" and "Fox," the latter a love song to a silver moped that sounds more sincere than most songs written about a woman or the government. I dunno what it is about Scandinavians making pop-punk that doesn't totally blow. Maybe it's something in their socialized water.

Their early work aside, it's their second coming in the form of Home From Home that hits me in the gut so hard. While not an entirely serious affair like the last Blink 182 album, it's pretty heavy for a bunch of guys who seemingly wear baseball hats for a living. There's still traces of goofiness - including a paen to a...houseplant - but it's almost totally a muscular amping up of their melodic sound and misfit outlook. The churning "Afghan" is a rocket shot through ruminations on revenge, while the rifftastic "Kemp" coulda shoulda woulda* been their breakout hit in America. It's such a departure from their skater rock and Scandinavian-to-English dictionary lyrical structure that it almost sounds like a different band.

For fans of Randy and those who actually admit what they listened to in high school.

*Sorry to Bob Newscaster!

Man or Mouse: http://www.mediafire.com/?ehtjo42bu1m

Kemp: http://www.mediafire.com/?3zdions4dbt

Afghan: http://www.mediafire.com/?cpbznis3pmh

What's up with your mans and them?

2007-07-11T22:45:00.000-04:00

One of the biggest pop culture debates of the last decade is why Eminem became so popular. How did a nasally-voiced pale white kid from the Midwest who rapped about funny stuff become the most popular rapper in the country for a good many years? Of the many legitimate theories, one of the most believable ones is that he was (at first) a breath of fresh air. Here was a guy with a sense of humor who did catchy songs that were about other things than possessions catalogues and 75 minutes of bragging about skills that never manifested. Basically, seeing a picture of Lil' Wayne dressed in whatever ridiculous fashion he's chosen this week is enough to make me start keying music execs' cars.

Oh Word has put forth the argument that the reason hip-hop sales are flagging in the mainstream is because basically almost all popular rappers are douchebags. Listening to your local rap station more and more feels like sitting at a dinner table with a rich guy who talks about himself all night.

This is why I fell in love so hard with the second Felt album, a collaboration between Atmosphere and Murs that started as a tour van argument as to who would have a better chance of bedding Christini Ricci. It's a chance for three serious indie rappers (the self-lashing Slug, the boisterous mic scientist Murs, and the soulful beatmaker Ant) to cut loose and make a hell of a party record. It's producer Ant who sounds like he has the most fun with the project. Usually, his soul- and piano-laden beats are heavy and more likely to cause a night of introspection instead of a banging crunk party. Here, he gleefully runs through the history of rap beats, taking a little Arrested Development here, a little Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy there, with maybe some Digital Underground and Tupac on the way out the door.

I've never heard either MC as exuberant as they are "Life Vegas," detailing a bacchanalian trip to the Sodom and Gamorrah of the American Southwest. Slug isn't moping about girls, and Murs isn't musing on his ambitions in a genre content to wallow and stagnate. Instead, it's all booze and strippers and gambling and hook-ups (and Dave Chappelle). It never sounds bragging, i.e. "I have much money, perhaps you would like to let me spray your writhing body with some overprice champagne? - instead it's the sound of two young men having the time of their life. Elsewhere, "Your Mans and Them" takes to task people who act ignorant in clubs. Perhaps part of Pac-Man Jones' NFL-mandated rehab could involve listen to this song on loop 4 times a day.

It's a fun, intelligent record, and I hope they come out with a new one soon. The rap world could use some more fresh air.

Employees of the Year: http://www.mediafire.com/?7ict2mynz9x

Your Mans and Them: http://www.mediafire.com/?9y1x3usxjho

Morris Day: http://www.mediafire.com/?12myxlxaznn

Life Vegas: http://www.mediafire.com/?eeq1ahabgyz

A TKAAD sneak preview! Common's new album has a 95% chance of being completely rad

2007-07-07T02:21:00.000-04:00

Some songs from Common's upcoming record Finding Forever have leaked (likely as part of a deliberate hype attempt by his record label - they'll still sue your ass, though), and I for one have a raging mega huge boner of anticipation for it. His last record, Be, is one of the best hip hop albums ever. He kept it short and kept in the winners instead of trying to turn 40 minutes of killer shit into 70 minutes of pressing forward on the CD changer.

I'm glad he decided to stick with Kanye West as a producer, since they're such kindred musical souls, West's soul samples and Common's Soul Brother #1 voice meshing like they were made for each other.

Anyway, I'll probably write more when the album actually drops, but if the preview EP is any indication, it's gonna slay. I dunno if "A Dream" is going to be included on the final album cut, cause it was already on the soundtrack for Middle Class White Girl With a Dream Inspires Minority Students Movie #14563-H. Or Freedom Writers. They all kinda blend together, and after Half Nelson, they're all kind of redundant anyway.

I would like to add as a side note that while Finding Forever will likely be an amazing record, the cover art is some of the most atrocious I've ever seen: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Findingforever.jpg Fuck were you guys thinking?

A Dream: http://www.mediafire.com/?dgc0ohmzdcz

Misunderstood: http://www.mediafire.com/?4tgisu3yd1x

The People: http://www.mediafire.com/?fjyjqcxyaxn

Death bed, the bed that eats people!

2007-07-07T01:40:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite working stand up comics is Patton Oswalt. I don't think I've ever seen someone who can work the mainstream and the underground simultaneously and be completely credible in both. Yeah, he's on King of Queens and the lead voice actor in Ratatouille, but he's also one of the most revered indie comics in the country, ranking with the likes of David Cross, Greg Giraldo, and Todd Barry. In fact, he organized the Comedians of Comedy Tour, which played in indie rock clubs and venues as seemed almost like a *pbbbbbbbbt* reaction to Dane Cook and Tourgasm. We have in Patton someone who's deeply entrenched in Hollywood but also one of its most vicious critics.

Part of the reason I like him is that I can relate to his hatred of both President Bush and sanctimonious hippies. He comes across as someone with no real agenda other than squashing assholes and the bullshit they spew. He's got an astounding delivery, turning a three-minute rant about KFC in a brilliant piece of surreal comedy, and his Hollywood connection lead to an uproarious anecdote about how Brian Dennehy convinced him to drop a diet in ten minutes.

Both of these bits are found on his second official release, Werewolves and Lollipops, the follow-up to the hilarious Feelin' Kinda Patton. Werewolves comes out on the 10th on Sub Pop, a day which already sees releases from Bad Religion, Against Me!, and Gogol Bordello in what may be the best day for audio recordings EVER. Also, while I feel bad recommending Spin magazine to anyone, it's worth the cover price of the latest issue for nothing else than Oswalt's fantastic last page column about how Fred Phelps, the man behind the God Hates Fags campaign, is the punkest person who ever lived.

For the people who like Dave Chappelle because his supreme delivery makes even well-trod comedy topics sound fresh and gut-busting or Lewis Black because of his righteous rage make you laugh while you stuff the effigy with straw, do yourself a favor and check out Patton Oswalt.

American Has Spoken: http://www.mediafire.com/?459ddd2bedf

The Dukes of Hazzard: http://www.mediafire.com/?2xs90esdm41

Best Week Never: http://www.mediafire.com/?c39ogdieqix

Physics for Poets: http://www.mediafire.com/?bsdd40ldxgi

Cirque Du Soleil: http://www.mediafire.com/?7w35u9dx0wx

We can be the bands we wanna hear! We can define our own generation!

2007-07-04T11:57:00.000-04:00

From the moment I heard the Crime 7", Against Me! instantly became one of my favorite bands. The slashing acoustic guitars and throat-shredding howls masked Tom Gabel's achingly gorgeous poetry. "I Still Love You, Julie" and "What We Worked For" brought back to punk the type of straightforward-yet-layered, honest self-reflection that's been missing since Blake Schwarzenbach became an English professor.

The releases that followed - the acoustic EP and the Reinventing Axl Rose full-length - only won them a devout following in the punk scene, cemented by their endless touring and killer shows (to this day they are probably the best live band I've ever seen). The bigger their following got, however, the less and less they could play unconventional venues like bowling alleys and basements. Their earliest fans felt a sense of, I dunno, betrayal, I guess, that they had to go see their favorite band in a club instead of a rec center.

THEN they signed to Fat Wreck, a previously shitty label that has, over the course of the last couple years, turned itself into one of the best ever punk labels. "Production quality!" fans howled. "Distribution! Gas money for the van!" (These are the same types who get pissed off when they hear the Weakerthans in a coffee shop and, to quote Mitch Clem, "fear money like cavemen fear fire.") THEN Tom Gabel stopped playing acoustic guitar mostly, as the band was evolving into a muscular rock band from their early roots as thrash-folk (quite a leap).

THEN, after two great albums on Fat, the band signed to...*drum roll*...a major label! That's right! Sire Records (who honestly has a better track record than most majors, even if they DO have Mandy Moore) pulled their heads out of their asses and realized good band writing good songs + devoted fanbase = $. Against Me! realized that the people who hated them for signing to Fat weren't buying their records anyway, so they might as well shoot to make their Big Budget Rock Album. Hell, Jawbreaker, Jawbox, and Shudder to Think did the same thing, and you don't hear anyone badmouthing them.

So after nearly a year of debate, speculation, anticipation, and people making good and bad judgements about the record without hearing a note of it, New Wave drops next week. I've heard it in all its Butch Vig-produced glory, and while it's easily their weakest record, Against Me! is like Bad Religion in the sense that even their worst album is still better than most bands A-material. You can hear the growing pains as they adapt from recording in makeshift studios to recording on a major label defense spending budget, but I can also hear them growing into this sound. Based on the evolution from Searching for a Former Clarity to New Wave, I have a feeling the next record is going to be a monster.

But what about the songs, you say? After a couple go-through, I have to say "Thrash Unreal" is the best song on here. They take a "ba ba ba" chorus and a bouncy bassline and shove them up against lyrics about a scene girl whose time has come and gone and all she has to show for it are track marks and an empty bed. "Some people just ain't the type for marriage and a family," Gabel sings, "there’s not a lie in the world that you could use to make the boys believe you're still in your twenties." The live staple "Americans Abroad" catches fire in the studio, while "Ocean" once again prove that for all Gabel's growling and guitar noise, he's still a poet at heart. Meanwhile, "Piss and Vinegar" takes to task all the AP-core bands that have found popularity - "the stage is not a pedestal!"

James Bowman's backing vocals are getting better and better, and the guitars are massive without sounding like they've had all the life and power drained out of them by a label worried about radio play. The honor students may have turned in a B-plus assignment, but as far as major label rock goes, they're still wrecking the curve for dipshits like Nickelback and Interpol.

New Wave: http://www.mediafire.com/?0zb9gjvgjkx

Thrash Unreal: http://www.mediafire.com/?e20dkpyzzwl

White People For Peace: http://www.mediafire.com/?0btnndvshmx

Piss and Vinegar: http://www.mediafire.com/?fxxhlhcnsbx

I hope John Hurt really went to live with Jesus

2007-07-01T20:38:00.000-04:00

Like my purchase of the incredible Son House album Father of the Delta Blues, my purchase of The Immortal Mississippi John Hurt was a random purchase at Fantasyland Records that ended up netting me one of my favorite artists. Sunday mornings when I was in school and my roommate was away, I would tie up the hammock on the porch, bring out a six pack of Mickey's, and listen to it on endless loop. Like Nick Drake, Astrud Gilberto, or the Shins, Mississippi John Hurt made perfect Sunday morning albums - the kind that make the perfect soundtrack for reflective showers, egg cooking, paper reading, hammock swinging Sundays, which is how they're meant to be spent.

His voice and relaxed picking style is gentle and soothing. Not to sound like some douchebag new age hippie retard, but it centers me. It's the kind of music you simultaneously can't ignore and can't help but think of everything else. Even when he sings "took my gun and broke the bough down/Put that joker six feet in the ground," it feels like a nursery lullaby.

One of the things that strikes me the most about Hurt is the fact that when you compare his early 20's recordings and his later 60's recordings (common for many of the folkies/bluesmen "rediscovered" during the roots music revival of the 60's) and they sound basically the same. With the evolution of the blues over the course of the WWII and post-war era, such as the introduction of electric guitars and adoption of Texas-style band-based blues as a more standard motif, many early bluesmen had changed with the times in order to continue to appeal to the juke joint and country barroom crowds. When his records bombed in the 20's, Hurt went back to sharecropping and playing the occasional party, essentially preserving his approach from prevailing trends.

After Tom Hoskins tracked him down in the 60's (and got him to play a now-renowned set at the Newport Folk Festival), Hurt actually became something of a cause celebre amongst the collegiate folkie set, playing colleges, concert halls, and even the Tonight Show.

I can't encourage you enough to check Hurt out, especially his later output (including the killer live album he put out on Vanguard). Listen to "Ain't No Tellin'" and "Louis Collins" and tell me if you can hear a difference besides sound quality to later songs like "I Can't Be Satisfied," "Keep On Knocking" (later played by Little Richard and the Sonics) and "Since I've Laid My Burden Down," which is one of my favorites songs of all time, bar none.

Ain't No Tellin': http://www.mediafire.com/?7ircz9yxgxx

Louis Collins: http://www.mediafire.com/?cnjw1am92ml

Since I've Laid My Burden Down: http://www.mediafire.com/?akcl1mwdtxd

I Can't Be Satisfied: http://www.mediafire.com/?7hb2a1xcrlz

Keep on Knocking: http://www.mediafire.com/?dlok1x9zzft

Rare and underappreciated Morrissey songs. What more could you want?

2007-06-27T20:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday's posting of my beautiful girlfriend and her glorious quiff has inspired me to share something special with you all. Namely, my 12 favorite rare/unreleased/underappreciated Morrissey songs. Everyone knows "Every Day is Like Sunday" is a killer song, but why drive it into the ground? The man has such a rich catalogue that it rewards revisits. Let's examine each of these 12 gems, yes?

A Swallow on My Neck - Classic mid-90's Moz, this is a prime example of the catchy, jangly Britpop he was singing at the time. How often are you going to hear the phrase "foolish, ghoulish, and childish" in a pop song? It's lush and coy, just like the man himself.

http://www.mediafire.com/?a40mxvnmibo

Angel, Angel, Down We Go Together - From his debut solo record, Viva Hate. It's one of my favorite songs from that record and an avenue that I had hoped Morrissey had continued. His performances usually have this cinematic quality to them no matter how broad or intimate, and it was a revelation to hear him sing over what was essentially tense film music. I'm still waiting for this chamber quartet record.

http://www.mediafire.com/?513oo2agteo

Born to Hang - Dunno why this one was left to linger in the demo ghetto, as the hooks seem like they would have been fertile ground for expansion. As such, we're left with a song that is mostly potential, but still catchy and memorable enough to warrant attention. The fact that the vocal on this song is as good as it is is pudding-proof that Mozzer is the real deal.

http://www.mediafire.com/?5sihbcp3jn1

Heir Apparent - From the Japan-only EP of rare tracks. One of his best b-sides and prescient of the albums he was yet to release.

http://www.mediafire.com/?8zs74z4mtw3

I Can Have Both - I have no proof of this, but I have a feeling this is evidence that a Morrissey first-take is as good as the 50th.

http://www.mediafire.com/?5bwamumteic

Lucky Lisp - From the early days of his solo career (if you couldn't tell by the production and synths). This was back when we wasn't putting out albums so much as 3-4 song maxi-singles that combined would have been killer as a set. Also, this song is supposedly about his former songwriting partner and fellow Smith member Johnny Marr. Modest louse?

http://www.mediafire.com/?6g3nnzblmmt

Michael's Bones - The more I listen to this, the more I'm convinced the narrator is the person who killed Michael and buried him in the soccer field. What do you think?

http://www.mediafire.com/?abxmobb8yfe

Our Frank - The last song's weirdness is matched only by "Our Frank," where Morrissey has a snarky conversation with himself and makes fun of his clothes ("your frankly vulgar red pullover"). Despite the oddball lyric (and does the public really pay attention, anyway?), this is the song on today's post that most should have been a hit.

http://www.mediafire.com/?doxdxjy32lz

Satan Rejected My Soul - If you can't appreciate his bathos as deliberate and charming and this song doesn't win you over to that camp, you're hopeless.

http://www.mediafire.com/?dzvdtyjweo9

Spring-Heeled Jim - So Radiohead was a mediocre alt-rock band who had a fluke hit with "Creep" (so goes the critical consensus). Then they released The Bends and won over every critic who's not me and Aaron. They said during the recording sessions for The Bends, they listened to almost nothing but the album this song came from, Vauxhall and I. "Spring-Heeled Jim" sounds like every Radiohead song ever. Coincidence? Only if you're stupid.

http://www.mediafire.com/?9xj1bhmnhgj

Striptease With a Difference - Yeah, the lyric and performance is totally weak, but it sounds so much like the theme song to an 80's cop show that I couldn't help but include it.

http://www.mediafire.com/?cz9xtxbyhjf

Teenage Dad on His Estate - It must really piss off the ruling elite in this country to see a happy poor person. They see some impoverished fellow smiling, and all of a sudden they realize putting in 70 hours a week at the office doesn't mean shit towards their own personal fulfillment. Maybe that's why the Christians in this country (in the public arena) care more about gay dudes touching than they do about helping the poor. Yeah, you can afford a Lexus, but does it mean you laugh at night playing with your kids?

http://www.mediafire.com/?34m1bcb4tow

Apparently I am dating some sort of girl Morrissey

2007-06-26T22:09:00.000-04:00

Hey kids, can you spot the differences between these two pictures?

Off off off off Broadways

2007-06-26T18:53:00.000-04:00

For some reason today I just felt like breaking out the Broadways classic 1998 album, Broken Star. For those of who out there who aren't quite sure who the hell the Broadways are, the simplest way to describe them is "the Lawrence Arms before they were the Lawrence Arms. Also, another dude from Slapstick." Yes, seminal (heh heh, "seminal") Chicago ska-punk vet Brendan Kelly formed a band with hetero lifemate Chris McGooch after the former group ended (and Dan Andriano went on to fame and fortune with the Alkaline Trio), wanting to tap into the raw, poppy-yet-inscrutable punk of Crimpshrine and Jawbreaker, in the process helping build the bridge from Leatherface to Hot Water Music.

It's certainly the most political record any of the participants have ever been involved in - Chris and Brendan are punk rock barstool poets in the Lawrence Arms, and Rob and Dan are in the navel-gazing Honor System. "15 Minutes," one of the single best pop-punk songs ever written. When they get to the end of the bridge before they explode into the raucous outro, "I'M NOT CRAZY JUST FRUSTRATED!" I go nuts every time, screaming along at the top of my lungs. Of course, the personal and polemic get juxtaposed. The morning-after lament "The Kitchen Floor" shares LP space with the strident "Everything I Ever Wanted to Know About Genocide..."and they work together when they could be very jarring opposites.

The band broke up the year Broken Star came out, dispersing amongst a variety of Midwestern groups. In 2000, Asian Man Records put out the rarities comp, Broken Van. If you like any of the bands mentioned in this post, you'd do well to give them a listen.

PS - If you like the coke-fueled insanity that is Gil Thorp, you'd do well to check this out: http://gilthorp.wordpress.com/

15 Minutes: http://www.mediafire.com/?92j1qw5n2z7

The Kitchen Floor: http://www.mediafire.com/?0c39cddodxk

Everything I Ever Wanted to Know About Genocide: http://www.mediafire.com/?2q3adzwm2sw

Lake Michigan: http://www.mediafire.com/?axfas1dzdex

Not Necessarily News: http://www.mediafire.com/?2g4mcam0nwg

Awesome weekend!

2007-06-24T20:27:00.000-04:00

This weekend was almost too much rad for me to handle. Put in for an apartment with Chris (and soon Andrea) that we're likely going to get. Ran into Matt and Ginger during yet another sweet Run For Cover - big ups to the bands playing Jesus Lizard, Talking Heads, and old Metallica, big downers to the tools playing Youth of Today and David Bowie. Meh, it can't all be good. (Also, big shout out to Matt for the drinks! Too cool, dude!) Today I saw the Nats kick the ass of the Cleveland Indians 3-1. All in all it was a killer weekend.

I'm too lazy to write a real post or rip another 7", so instead I'm going to give you a peek at the new Gogol Bordello album, Super Taranta!, which recent scientific inquiries have proven to be the best thing ever. Seriously. The only way this isn't going to make my top five at the end of the year is if Fugazi gets back together and puts out five LPs. Eugene still sings like a drunk French sailor and the band still plays like the best party band of all time. Andrea and I are going to see them next month.

Dub the Frequencies of Love: http://www.mediafire.com/?cn9im24xngh

Wanderlust King: http://www.mediafire.com/?eyx7gdxazof

My Strange Uncles From Abroad: http://www.mediafire.com/?dtomfmcnc6l

Carbonas, not glue!

2007-06-20T22:50:00.000-04:00

So I've got the new Gogol Bordello and New Pornographers albums. I'd post select tracks, but I'm holding out to see if anyone has the new Bad Religion album to trade. All I will tell you is that both fucking SLAY. And for those of you who knock the new BR single, "Honest Goodbye," get the hell out. We don't need you. It kicks ass in its own way, and while that sounds like a pitiful defense, it's killer mid-tempo dynamite in the vein of "All Good Soldiers" and "Faith Alone." You guys are forgetting the cardinal rule, which is "Bad Religion can do no wrong." You know why that's a rule? Because they can't. Why do you ask me about simple shit?

So what was I gonna write about tonight? Ah yes, music from Atlanta's own Carbonas. First time I saw them, it was at one of the infamous Rob's House parties. I recall three things about their set mostly: 1) some dude who looked a lot like Zach de la Rocha kept offering to sell me psychedelics, which I politely decline because I was drunk but not stupid, 2) them rocking way too hard for me to believe, despite being drunk off my ass, and 3) getting drunk with the bassist and telling him I was a "journalist" when in reality I was working for the Petrel at the time.

If you like buzz-spaz punk like the Zero Boys or FYP, this is a band for you. "Blackout" is one of the best punk songs of the 00's, and the other two on the same EP weren't slouchers, either. rad dudes making rad tunes on a rad 7" = my ION makes for your listening pleasure! More zippers, mule!

Blackout: http://www.mediafire.com/?86zndzt1lin

Inside Out: http://www.mediafire.com/?bbjnmx1vd9k

Nostalgia Buffs: http://www.mediafire.com/?b50ljgyjnzm

Too bad Jack Handey ain't here

2007-06-19T01:31:00.000-04:00

I know I make fun of hipsters here a lot kids.

"Yeah, we fucking know. Considering your tone, we didn't think you liked any bands but the Sonics and Kid Dynamite."

I'm not saying I hate all hipster bands! Just the obviously bullshit ones that think being the next Thurston Moore is just a haircut and weird guitar tuning away!

"So do you like Q and Not U?"

Fuck yes! They made some of my favorite local music in the last couple years!

"Checkmate! They made an admittedly killer first album, a boring second record, and then bowed out with a stupid trend-hopping dance-punk third record."

Now hey. It was influenced by vintage Michael Jackson. Like, pre-kid touching Jackson. Good stuff. Well, Michael's. Power was pretty shitty.

"So why do you stick up for Pitchfork garbage?"

Because of that first record. And their two singles. That one they did, On Play Patterns, was fucking killer. Plus, they did the sleeve photos in the National Gallery of Art, so local pride is exploding from my heart. I think they knew the singles was where people would be really listening, so they put more effort into them than the albums.

"I think you're a homo and should listen to more Kid Dynamite."

Eh, you're probably right.

Ten Thousand Animal Cells: http://www.mediafire.com/?3jm9mjg14n3

Soft Pyramids: http://www.mediafire.com/?4bkmdd2qmfm

Wait a minnit. Pretty boys ain't allowed!

2007-06-18T00:07:00.000-04:00

Pretty Boy Thorson and the Falling Angels are lying to us. They tell untruths in both aspects of their name. But, yanno, they're still wildly entertaining, so I guess it's alright. A lot of punk bands are starting to publicly recognize their debt to classic country in terms of approach and lyrical honesty about things like heartships and drinking problems. It's got a ton in common with folk punk, but also with Motorhead and Social Distortion. Think Throwrag, but more awesome.

One time in high school while walking home from school, admiring a car ended up with some Latin dudes giving me a beatdown. The one who talked like Speedy Gonzalez distracted me while the others surrounded me before they proceeded to pummel me, fists and feet crashing down upon my cranium. All this was started by that me staring at tinted windows, which was followed by Speedy's all-too-stereotypical taunts, which was followed by my giving them the finger, which was ultimately followed by me waiting in the hospital to get checked in for a concussion and maybe for someone who could stop my massive facial bleeding.

The point is even the Aztecs got their ass kicked, and Pretty Boy Thorson knows how to kick out the country-punk jams. What more do you want to know? My seven inch series continues.

I Know I Said I Love You: http://www.mediafire.com/?6xgelhog99f

Things I Should Have Told You Before: http://www.mediafire.com/?1b3twyzwwi1

You Can't Win (Don't Try): http://www.mediafire.com/?dl5dgbx71bb

Two Steps Across Two Harbors: http://www.mediafire.com/?2mivr4xznth

I'll try not to quote the movie

2007-06-17T01:41:00.000-04:00

I won't deny it. I'm a vinyl junkie. I love the analog, and not just because it has "anal" in it. Part of the fun is finding completely left field artists that you would never hear otherwise. (I feel the same way about horror movies, which is why I collect such shitty public domain scare flicks - if I don't help preserve this, who will?) While I'm certainly not the Smithsonian and this isn't the archives of Moses Asch beckoning, some of singles and EPs I've purchased simply because of wacky or trashy cover art or off-the-wall song titles. (As soon as I saw that it contained songs called "Space Queers from Pluto" and "Lynyrd Skinhead," I had no other choice but to pay the $1.50 the God's Will EP cost.) For the next however many days, I'm going to rip directly from the vinyl source (via the kickass ION turntable, which I can't recommend enough) and posting about some of the seven inches I own that have yet to take make an appearance in the digital age, be it the rockabilly of today's entry to the contemporary greatness of the Leftovers or Pretty Boy Thorson & the Fallen Angels.

The problem with these obscure artists? I'm going to be reduced to telling stories about my own life in order to fill space. That is to say, instead of hearing scintillating bios of drunken guitarists, you're gonna hear more stories along the line of "I totally tired to stinkfinger this girl that was into Go Sailor, but it wasn't happening." Cool? Cool. Figure the happening music will make up for the lack of verbiage.

Today's entry was part of Tower's collapse. With their huge going-out-of-business sale, I was able to get stuff like this for less than a dollar. God bless America. Bobby Wayne introduced rockabilly to the Northwest, likely influencing the Sonics. His backup band was called the Warriors. Both these facts are unspeakably cool. These four songs are from the seven inch EP "55 Spokane Rockabilly!" JP, if you're reading this, I'm basically making a baldfaced dare to you to play "Sally Ann" next time you play the Quarry House. It's one of the first released rockabilly songs, dude! I'm sure the crowd will go nuts. Besides, "Sally Ann" is written about some jailbait girl he met at a prom he was WORKING. Fuckin' rad.

Sally Ann: http://www.mediafire.com/?empsime4woy

War Paint: http://www.mediafire.com/?8ojyzzcd4iw

Long Lean Baby: http://www.mediafire.com/?atrzh9m2z91

Draggin: http://www.mediafire.com/?dxopdvych9n

A quiet evening discussion with No Brass

2007-06-15T09:25:00.000-04:00

Despite being yungun's (one bandmember still can't legally buy cigarettes), Virginia Beach's sons No Brass have put out one of the best demos I've heard in long time (well, other than Gaslight Anthem's, but before that? Barren tundra.). If you're a fan of Dillinger Four, Rivethead, Off With Their Heads, Gunmoll, or the Grabass Charlestons, do yourself a favor and download their demo below. It fucking RIPS, especially "Sixers on the Beach," which had me bouncing like a looney in my car while screaming "we're not leaving 'til they're shootin' out the stereos!" for most of the last two weeks.

In the interest of proving not all the under-21 crowd are whiny little brats with shoe polish in their hair, I present a little Q&A for your edification.

What’s your name from? I imagine it has to do with testicles or ska.
It’s a little of both. When we pitched it because we originally played ska/punk, but we couldn’t find any horn players that would play with us. And the whole testicles issue sealed the deal.

Would you rather bite the head off a puppy or a kitten?
Are we talking raw?

Which of your band members’ moms would you fingerbang for a Klondike bar?
There’s not very many people No Brass wouldn’t finger for a Klondike Bar.

Do fat guys make better punk rock? Why or why not?
I don’t know if that’s true but I can say we/they definitely “pull their/our weight”

Why do you think punks do shit “for the kids?” Kids are stupid. They don’t know anything about the world and they buy Hawthorne Heights CDs.
The kids are what keeps it going, that’s why 21+ shows suck so much.

Also, how much more “up” can the punx get?
Were still trying to figure that out, we're not the biggest Casualties/street punk fans.

What’s your favorite Gary Busey movie?
Either Black Sheep or, if it counts, the T.V. show I’m With Busey.

What 40 oz. do you rock the hardest?
Schlitz malt liquor baby.

Have you ever punched a stripper?
Unfortunately none of us are old enough to go to a strip club, but believe you me, once we are it's stripper punching time.

What’s the best lie you ever told?
We tell people we play good music.

Could Jesus heat a burrito so hot that not even he himself could eat it?
I don’t know, but Jesus definitely heats our burrito.

Did you get laid on prom night?
C’mon man, this is No Brass we're talking about… no, no we didn’t.

If you saw a chick with a star tattoo, would this make you want to fuck her less?
No Brass has no standards.

What’s your favorite place to hit a girl?
If she’s pregnant the stomach, if not anywhere you can put a telephone book in front of. Shit, don’t leave a mark, son.

What socially irresponsible rap music do you support?
Anything that supports the degradation of woman and violence between inner city youth. Basically most rap music.

Why do you think people spend $30 on a faux-vintage shirt to give the impression they spent $2 at Goodwill?
Because they want something vintage that doesn’t smell like piss and dust.

Would it be overly cruel to take orphans to abortion clinic protests?
That’s what No Brass calls comedy.

Which group is more of a collection of uptight assholes who shove their business in your face and resort to violence if you don't conform to their strict rules: Al Queda or Earth Crisis fans?
Earth Crisis fans. I mean, that's one of the few bands that you could see where they'd kick your ass just for having a smoke.

Percentage-wise, how metal would you say you were?
666%, brother!

Fuckin' rad is right. Well, what're ya waitin' for, Chester? Get to downloadin'!

Sixers on the Beach: http://www.mediafire.com/?0zyxzmvegyx

Arrogance for an Age of Assholes: http://www.mediafire.com/?5dtex7mmemy

Los Flores Del Muertos: http://www.mediafire.com/?emzm2vx0wqe

Dressed For Rain in a Flood: http://www.mediafire.com/?1vm2wtbrfmm

The black days and the static nights

2007-06-14T21:14:00.000-04:00

First off, if you're looking for obscure, rare vintage jams, check out Calling Planet Earth - http://www.callingplanetearth.blogspot.com/ (I dunno HTML and I refuse to learn). Those dudes just started, but already they're fucking killing it.

Other than that, not a whole lot going on over here at Casa del Muerto Ninos. Honestly just been in the mood for post-work beers and some vintage country tunes. Maybe just missing my Rose of Atlanta Town. Maybe just exhausted from lack of sleep. Maybe just still blown away by the full-on Rednexploitation that was the movie Country Blue. Maybe it's just a growing appreciation for the fact that Merle Haggad is fuckin' BOMB.

Probably tomorrow I'll break out the Leatherface records and the Wychwood beer, but tonight it's High Life and the strains of those working man blues. It happens.

George Jones - Relief (Is Just a Swallow Away): http://www.mediafire.com/?63duztmhxxw

Hank Williams - Why Should We Try Anymore?: http://www.mediafire.com/?9lmvjzu4o5j

Johnny Horton - Honky Tonk Man: http://www.mediafire.com/?9gpdpxlp9ze

Merle Haggard - Skid Row: http://www.mediafire.com/?3t0xxgsxnyi

Patsy Cline - San Antonio Rose: http://www.mediafire.com/?8jkdzhdpmmz

Porter Wagoner - I Didn't Mean it That Way: http://www.mediafire.com/?burx411nznt

Webb Pierce - You Scared the Love Right Out of Me: http://www.mediafire.com/?fyungdd0meg

Joe Strummer dies but fucking Aerosmith continues to THRIVE

2007-06-13T21:33:00.000-04:00

One of the best bits of the Bible is the book of Job, but not for the reason most people think. I'm gonna guess most people have never read it, because every time it comes up in conversation it's about the importance of loyalty to God, even in the face of seemingly cruel and pointless adversity. WRONG. Satan torments Job (with God's permission) and begins to wear him down to the point that Job is sitting in a pile of ashes and pig crap (literally) questioning God while his less-than-with-it friends try to dissuade him from his blasphemy. Finally, towards the end, God comes down, lays the smack down, and basically tells Job to quit jawin' because it is impossible for mortals to understand the ways of an omnipotent creator. Basically, stuff sometimes doesn't make sense to use because we're not God. Whether you're a Christian or not, it's a pretty profound statement on the awe-inspiring world around us and how little we truly comprehend day-to-day.

At least, that's what I hope it is sometimes. 'Cause frankly, I cannot understand why a visionary creator who was in the midst of a second renaissance period was taken from us while the likes of Aerosmith and their ilk continue to sell out arenas despite being boring, pointless hokum. Joe Strummer was a man of the world, one who truly absorbed the music he heard as he travelled the world with the Clash. Some reggae here, some blues there, some afrobeat here, some country there. Shit, the dude wrote a waltz performed by a rock band once, and it SLAYED. Right up until his death, he was writing and performing some of the best rock music extant.

Joe Strummer was a vibrant life force that was one of the rare people that found his true calling in life. He was born to write and play and sing music because despite any perceived limitations he did it better than 'most anyone. He was the living, breathing embodiment of rock music and its place in the kaleidoscope of the whole of music worldwide. If you're not into the Clash, you're hopeless. If you're not into his solo work with the Mescaleros, check out Global A Go-Go, an astounding slab of music. (For those of you who are with it and ARE into Mr. Strummer, I've included two rarities - his very first solo single from wayyyyyyyyyy back in the day and a bootlegged live song from his stint as the lead singer of the Pogues.) He died at 50, and in a world that needs him as much as it ever did, with hordes of self-consciously whiny jacktards more into their hair than their guitars assaulting the airwaves like Duke boys on a stripper virtually nonstop, it seems cruel that he was taken from us. I hate that toothless, preening assholes like Sammy Hagar and Jimmy Buffet live and sell out arenas while Joe lies dead of a freak heart condition. I hope it's just because I can't second-guess the ways of God and why he doesn't aim a couple deserved lightning bolts at well-deserving targets.

Welcome, stranger, to the humble neighborhood. (That he left us with largely barbed-wire Telecaster tracks like "All in a Day" gives me an odd feeling of circular closure, but that makes me sound like some New Age douchebag.)

Tony Adams: http://www.mediafire.com/?abxd3jog2c9

Bindhi Baghee: http://www.mediafire.com/?8jwosx9hzya

All in a Day: http://www.mediafire.com/?5o0ctb3kjjs

Gangsterville: http://www.mediafire.com/?05xyky52mz4

Sick Bed: http://www.mediafire.com/?ewgjjjlseis

Jaysis, how many alcoholic bluesmen am I gonna write about?

2007-06-11T23:33:00.000-04:00

Whenever I'm having one of those pointless debates that only music nerds are capable of getting angry about ("whaddya MEAN Grant Hart was a better songwriter than Bob Mould?!? Twat!") and someone inevitably asks me what my favorite instrument is, I always tell them the harmonica. Most people say "piano" or "guitar" or if they're huge faggots, "the human voice." Nah, I've always loved the harmonica because it's probably the most expressive instrument ever devised. You can take it with you anywhere, and people can hear it from great distances without much amplification. It evokes a loose, earthy charm - whoever was a harmonica snob?

Certainly one of the best harp blowers that ever lived was Little Walter, a cat that could huff and puff and BLOW your shit down. He was loud, too, introducing a hand-cup method that amplified him enough to be heard over the guitars and drums and to try different pitches and timbres. He also experimented with distortion on purpose, which is pretty effin' cool for the late 40's, if you ask me. Cat managed to drown out Muddy freakin' Waters when he played in the latter's band, so you know he was out there.

'Course, bein' out there usually comes with a price of some kind. In this instance, it was Walters' profound alcoholism and infamously short temper that ended up being the death of him - literally. He died in 1968 of injuries sustained in a fight. However, his wild, unpredictable playing and lifestyle ended up being a huge influence on the rock 'n' roll bands that would follow. He wrote and performed songs that were anything but neat, despite the jazz influence. They smear emotion all over, like someone finger painting over a piece of sheet music. Listen to the man who played a little pocket harmonica louder than a trumpet and ask yourself if he could have done it any other way.

PS - he also played with Tampa Red, a man known mostly around my old apartment as the singer of "I'm Gonna Get High" and "It's Tight Like That," the latter being a song that made Jon and I laugh on and off for FOUR YEARS. There. Some trivia for you.

Sad Hours: http://www.mediafire.com/?fmdgu2xndx5

Fast Boogie: http://www.mediafire.com/?ctjflzfxzcb

Off the Wall: http://www.mediafire.com/?21ttwg0xfjc

Dead Presidents: http://www.mediafire.com/?3umqn9pwlgc

The Beatsteaks in "if you move, I shall be quite injured."

2007-06-09T15:23:00.001-04:00

Got a sure to be hilarious interview with one of America's best up-and-coming punk bands, No Brass, coming soon. That should be up soon, if I can stay sober long enough. Speaking of inebriation and rock 'n' roll, going to see the rad JP McDermott and Western Bop kick out the rockabilly and honky tonk jams tonight. It's gonna slay, so come on down and have some Old Rasputin with me. Also, the new Against Me! video is killer. It's anti-war without being some whiny Sheryl Crow Hollywood preach fest. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFrrLXkFHPg&mode=related&search (Sorry for not just embedding it, but youtube is fucked right now for some reason.)

Anyway, on to my main point, which is to say when the fuck did the Beatsteaks comes out with a new record? I've been a big fan of the German group since I saw them back in the summer of 2000 (if you do the math and a little internet digging you'll realize I'm a total whore and went to WARPED TOUR when I was in high school omg wtf). They were the first live band I'd ever deliberately gone to see, and what a show it was. They rocked HARD, just the kind of punk-influenced alt-rock I was listening to at the time. What sent them over the top for me was the absolute showmanship of their frontman, Arnim. He strutted and flailed like Iggy, hurled himself from the top of PA stack, and even broke out a cane and top hat for their lounge-rock cover of Manowar's "Kings of Metal." The high point came when he surfed the crowd on a guitar case while not missing a note.

Despite being on Epitaph, on of the largest indie labels in the country, they never found a real American audience, despite cultivating a sizable following in Europe, a land known for pulsing beats and people with shitty taste in furniture. Hell, their new joint, Limbo Messiah, debuted at #3 on the German charts. It's pretty good, but more than a little different from their previous records. They still have the bracing rockers that are their bread and butter, but the dancey "Meantime" and Jackson 5-esque "She Was Great" are left field tricks that surprisingly work very, very well. Not every experiment on the album hits like those two, but it's better than their disappointing last album, Smack Smash. Still, the best place for noobs to start is either their tour-de-force Living Targets or junk food alt rock classic Launched.

For people who wore out their Foo Fighters CDs.

Demons Galore: http://www.mediafire.com/?2c05vtcz4av

Meantime: http://www.mediafire.com/?0h0mlmdm43x

She Was Great: http://www.mediafire.com/?8vdwj4hl0m3

Monster: http://www.mediafire.com/?bax0jecd9bz

Shut Up, Stand Up: http://www.mediafire.com/?12mn3mab7mx

Band of the Year? Already?

2007-06-06T13:40:00.000-04:00

I honestly can't remember the last time I was this excited about a debut album. Not being a British music fan/writer, I'm not prone to the hyperbole that afflicts my stout-swilling counterparts across the pond. As such, I do not make it an NME-esque habit of declaring every single new drug-addled ponce to be the one true savior of gen-yoo-wine rock 'n' roll.

Today, however, I am that giddy twat. The Gaslight Anthem's debut platter, Sink or Swim, has me all a-twitter, and I've played it so much at work that my co-workers are secretly plotting to storm my office with torches and pitchforks once burning me in effigy no longer holds the same thrill it once did. I can't help it. Sink or Swim is all killer no filler, packed with melodic guitar assaults and whiskey-soaked vocals that make me think of nothing so much as it does the Lawrence Arms meets Lucero (with a dash of Darkness on the Edge of Town-era Bruce Springsteen for flavor). "We Came to Dance" might be my song of the year, as the band uses melancholy roots-punk to spin a tale of people finding joy in drinking and dancing to the jukebox, no matter what's going on outside ("and in this unstable arena/of what's left of what's become my America/I'm asking this dance, so come take my hand"). John Fogerty would be proud. Elsewhere, the feisty rockers "Boomboxes and Dictionaries" and "We're Getting a Divorce (You Keep the Diner)" just rock the hell out (the ending of the latter is especially killer).

The epic "I Would'a Called You Woody, Joe" pays tribute to hero worship-worthy Joe Strummer five years after his death - and it STILL socks you right in the gut. Maybe it affects you differently than it does me, but in an age of cunts who ASPIRE to be self-absorbed losers, it made me miss Joe more than ever.

Overall, this album is insanely well-written, played with gusto, and Brian Fallon sings like a man afraid of last call, and it's always perfect, even on the quiet ballad "Navesink Banks." I don't have any MP3s yet (it just came out on the 29th), but the whole thing is streaming up Punknews. It would behoove you to check it out, since this is a band you're going to hear me prattling on and on about for a good long while. Might as well know what he hell I'm blathering on about. Go ahead. Listen to "We Came to Dance" and "1930." I dare you to not listen to the rest of the record after hearing those two numbers.

http://www.punknews.org/bands/gaslightanthem

Only the Soft Boys remain

2007-06-05T23:16:00.001-04:00

Oh my god. I think I'm developing The Sleep Madness, the condition that derives from a combination of not sleeping enough and sleeping in places not designed for sleeping, such as the bathroom floor or in the basement on a stack of Rubbermaid crates. Combine this with the fact that I have to get up at 6 to be on time for my gumint (guvmant?) job, and, well, Sleep Madness.

Maybe this is why the Soft Boys are sounding radder than ever lately (even though they always sound killer). The Soft Boys were ostensibly a punk band, but they really just got lumped in with the rest of the "weirdo" music because they came up at the time of New Wave. Leader Robyn Hitchcock (who went on to pen and perform many solo albums, some excellent and some not) was more akin to a hipster Syd Barrett, but minus all the obnoxious hippe O'Leary shit.

1979's Can of Bees is a weird, humorous take on punk and Britrock, featuring many left-field twists and turns that would later reappear in more than a few post-punk records. It's no wonder a young Stephen Malkmus took a listen to this and ran with it.

1980's Underwater Moonlight is generally considered to be their classic release. Any album with "I Wanna Destroy You," simultaneously a yelp of rage and a sardonic piss-take of more serious peers declaring themselves Antichrists and bemoaning career opportunities, is gonna be killer. It's a weird, funny record, full of bizarre non-sequiters and sharp-shifting guitar lines.

Unfortunately, if was their last for a while. The group disbanded, and Hitchcock went off to do solo records and act in mediocre movies. They reunited for 2002's pretty good Nextdoorland, but they broke up again that year, and it doesn't look like they're going to join the plethora of overlooked-in-their-own-time indie rock godfathers in the cash-in reunion craze.

I'd write more, but my bed is calling. Or some shit.

The Rat's Prayer: http://www.mediafire.com/?0n0xxcdzd4j

I Wanna Destroy You: http://www.mediafire.com/?2g0j4bmlflh

Underwater Moonlight: http://www.mediafire.com/?839qk433td0

Only the Stones Remain: http://www.mediafire.com/?81cmt1hssun

Mr. Kennedy: http://www.mediafire.com/?1xjwd94zn3i