old punks web zine

MP3 Blog Archives Page 2 (song links dead)

Entry Fifty-Two: 01/12/2008: Kevin Seconds Writes The Song That Makes The Whole World Sing

The Lillingtons: "Kevin Is A Lunatic" (From Technically Unsound)

The Human League: "Seconds" (From Dare)

Kevin Seconds writes a new song each and every week for reasons beyond both of our comprehensions. I was thinking about Tin Pan Alley and specifically the swell looking Brill Building, where Lou Reed toiled, so last week I left this comment, "Hey Kev: I need a song about my girlfriend, her toaster and my arthritis by Friday. Do ya think you can slap together a ditty about them by Friday? Yer a pal!" Why, cut off my legs and call me shorty, he did write me a song! And, it's registered with BMI, so every time you or I read the lyrics we have to write and mail five cent checks. Since I obviously can't write all I can do is post two songs with "Kevin" and "Seconds" in their titles. Thank you Kevin, The Academy, and especially you, the reader who came here looking for "Hardcore Naked Elf".

Her Favorite Toaster
hey won’t you listen to me, emerson?
i’ll try and talk you through the pain
and give support just like a friend would
although you still don’t know my name

i heard she really lost it it this time
her favorite toaster finally died
but you braved the rain to find another
the thought was there, at least you tried

(chorus)
and you told me that if i’d write this song
i’d soon belong
and you told me that i could do no wrong
and i’d belong

so little faith you have, ol’ emerson
you really doubted me this time
but i write the songs while i’m asleep and
i use the 4-track in my mind

i’m sad about your girlfriend’s toaster
i knew just what it meant to her
and how the pieces came out golden
almost every time, i’m pretty sure

(chorus x2)

(c)2008 Kevin Seconds (BMI)

Entry Fifty-One: 01/05/2008: Electric Frankenstein And The Whole Punk Revival Thing

Electric Frankenstein: "Teenage Shutdown" (from The Time Is Now)

Electric Frankenstein: "Demolition Joyride" (from The Time Is Now)

You'll have to excuse me as I spin around like a top in my chair whilst watching the Redskins-Seahawks game. I lived in DC for sixteen years and always rooted against the Skins. Now that's punk! I find the Punk Revival genre a bit vague but this is exactly how I feel so it must be right, "Since hardcore mutated into speed metal in the late '80s, it wasn't surprising that these punk traditionalists were heavier than their initial influences, but that is partially what made the music appealing to a mass audience in America — it was simpler and heavier, much like a faster, harder outgrowth of grunge rock." A decade ago I dubbed these bands "Bar Punk" and "Drunk Punk", the idea being it wasn't all-ages show material. It didn't speak to Duh Kidz and you were most likely drunk on cheap American beer as you listened to it. When it came to bands like Zeke, Speedealer and Electric Frankenstein I liked a little of it a lot and found the rest too heavy and slow, making me wonder who the hell was being revived. Electric Frankenstein is my favorite of the bunch, and if everything they recorded was in league with the tracks above I'd have an EF tattoo on my big white behind.

The Electric Frankenstein catalog is extensive, and my plunge into the middle (How To Make A Monster) didn't shiver me timbers, so I'll stick with the oldies until I get better advice. I have it on good authority that EF guitarist Sal Canzonieri, whose name is a combination of cannoli and consigliere, is one righteous dude. He booked shows and put out a book of EF concert posters, doing for hip, punk artists what The Grateful Dead did for smelly hippies who tripped out with paintbrushes in their dirty hippie hands.

These songs are the poop, and if you don't agree then you're a poop! Go any other team than The Washington Redskins!

Entry Fifty: 12/28/2007: Some Great Unknowns To Celebrate The Great Unknown of 2008 (w/ year-end bonus tune)

Unknown 1: Fake Title: "Sing This Six Times" ; cool farfisa piano, gothy singing, and you can go-go dance to it.

Unknown 2: Fake Title: "Run Spot Run" ; 80's lo-fi hardcore with decent mayhem.

Unknown 3: Fake Title "Mona Lisa Smile" ; definite progressive post-punk party material with an inverted guitar riff  from Lou Reed's "Vicious".

I've just finished my 2007 projects: an edit of the old punks archives and organizing my music collection in what 's been my "100 Hour Project". This site is 1,957 pages long based on a 325 word-per-page count. I think I'm entitled to say "yikes". I have songs that have lost all their information and above are three. I love records but CDs are more convenient. Still, this zeros and ones thing freaks me out. It must be UFO technology, like calculators and Ferrero Rocher chocolates. 

In 2008 I'll write more reviews and continue to make oldpunks.com your #1 source for things I've written. Have a smurfy New Years!

Entry Forty-Nine: 12/22/2007: Hi. The Name's Christmas. Murray Christmas.

Basement 5: "Last White Christmas" (from 1965-1980)

Joey Ramone: "Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)" (live from his last show in 2000)

This year's Christmas break began with seven hours of unpaid overtime, but every day above ground is a gift, and if you lost the receipt you can't return it. As a tribesman of the International Jewish Conspiracy I don't have much to do, but I enjoy when others are unsure if saying "Merry Christmas" will somehow offend me. What's not to like about pretty lights, gifts and days off to sit at home and wait until it's time to go to work again? When you Flying Spaghetti Monster pricks can deliver the goods like Christmas I'll consider taking the scientific religion of atheism seriously.

The Basement 5 was a dub reggae band who recorded a few great punk songs along the way. Don Letts put them together and sang for a time. Letts was responsible for at least half of the original UK punk scene. There is no comparable American influence. "The Last White Christmas" was a single from 1980.

Joey Ramone was the tribesman of the International Jewish Conspiracy in charge of the obsessive compulsive touching of stationary objects like parking meters. Jesus was a Jew, or at least he was until he converted. Whenever I think of Christian Scientists I think of Jesus in a lab coat pouring a glowing green liquid from a beaker into a test tube. I own the Joey Ramone action figure shown above, and he looks down at me from the top shelf, wondering why I obsessively and compulsively touch things.

Entry Forty-Nine: 12/15/2007: Anthropological Punk

Edward L. Crain:  "Bandit Cole Younger" (From The Anthology Of American Folk Music)

The Fall: "Insult Song" (From Reformation TLC)

Robert Johnson: "Preaching Blues (Up Jumped The Devil)" (From The Rough Guide To Delta Blues)

Doo Rag: "Train I Ride" (From Chuncked And Muddled)

The Punk Rock Roots Game is legitimate even if raw subjectivity dictates there's never a clear winner. The What Is Punk? Game is an intellectual dead end steeped in pretentiousness. I've met punks convinced it all goes back to the juvenile delinquent era of the 1950's, and for a handful of reasons that's good enough for me. For what I listen to it mostly goes back to The Ramones. If you really want to go back in time I don't think you can get any more legitimately retro than Robert Johnson, whose existence exposes the lie of every punk band claiming theirs were the bad old days.

I call any old music I find interesting and important "anthropological music". I derive mostly mild enjoyment from it and rarely want to hear much of it twice. I experience it and try to learn unknowable truths via osmosis. I always enjoyed Hot Jazz Saturday Night (the very definition of musical anthropology), especially the jug and washboard bands. The soundtrack to Oh Brother Where Art Thou sold an ungodly amount of copies, and it's a perfect and modern sequel to a collection like The Anthology of American Folk Music, which was to folk and rock in the 60's what Nuggets was to the proto-punks of the 70's. Being a Residents nut I was also influenced by Ralph Records' Potatoes: A Collection Of Folk Songs.

I find a number of punk and new wave bands from my own misbegotten youth to be anthropological music to today's godforsaken youth. MP3 blogs are filled with ripped 7"s from no hit wonders who pressed 200 copies of singles you couldn't buy outside, at best, a tri-state area. Killed By Death is the Smithsonian Institution for anthropological punk and hardcore. I own a shelf of musical flotsam and jetsam, and except for having been there and enjoying the music as it came along I know instinctively most of it is rightfully crap to The Kids. As a random example I'm staring at "Bringing Down The Big Boys" by Active Ingredients. I love this record but it's halfway bad and stupid. I loved it when I bought it in 1985 because that's who I was back then. I still like it now but I can't defend it.

"Bandit Cole Younger", from 1930, is a great example of the storytelling tradition of folk music. 2007's "Insult Song" by The Fall continues the tradition. The Fall's career is slightly anthropological (along the same lines as Pere Ubu and The Mekons). It's the ugly elf mumbling his own personal Ulysses. This review nicely sums up the band and the song. I met Doo Rag when they played Las Vegas in the 90's and ate with them before the show. They were great and the show was amazing.

Entry Forty-Eight: 12/8/2007: Naked Raygun, Live In The Near Future

Naked Raygun: "Swingo" (from Basement Screams)

Naked Raygun: "Metastasis" (from Throb Throb)

Naked Raygun is hardcore's Mission Of Burma, who were America's Wire - at least they were in the beginning. [2/23/2008 update: The following sentence is correct in sentiment but false in that I confused a live Pegboy bootleg with John Haggerty singing for the Naked Raygun CD with the much less chatty Jeff Pezzati] I'm seeing them tonight here in Long Beach, and if this is a guide I expect Jeff Pezzati to spend half the night wisecracking he's too old for this s--t. Half the audience will nod because they think they're too old for this s--t. I know I'm too old for this s--t, but they're my favorite anything named after a penis reference! I imagine a time when reunion shows will by necessity have to be all seated with wheelchair space at the end of each row. That'll be sweet for my lower back.

I asked my friend Screwy Louie what time I should get there to bet in line and buy tickets. He said about 9 PM, and I'm all like, won't there be a line around the block by then? But he's like, uh, you and I are probably the biggest Naked Raygun fans in California and stuff, and there's not that many of us left. Then I'm all like, wow, for me the past is so bright I gotta wear shades!

I'll  crawl out on a limb and say Naked Raygun is hardcore's most melodic band, and  their sing-alongs are also the most fun. To me their golden years ran from 1983 to 1986, producing Basement Screams, Throb Throb and All Rise. 1988's Jettison was decent enough but the remaining albums sputtered out like a bear farting sadness. The 1997 collection Last Of The Demohicans is vital to have and to hold. Out of the ashes arose the great Pegboy, whose rise and fall followed a similar arc. If Raygun throws in some Pegboy tonight I'll be glad I'm wearing my athletic cut Depends.

"Swingo" is from when they had horn players and were under the thrall of Wire. I have to hold back a girlish shriek every time the horns hit at 1:50 into the song. That's a wig-out, my friends. If a riot doesn't break out during "Metastasis" I swear I'm going to quit punk rock, bathe, get a job and start eating vegetables.

Entry Forty-Seven: 12/1/2007: Review: Cock Sparrer - Here We Stand

Cock Sparrer: "Spirit Of '76" (from Here We Stand)

Cock Sparrer: "England Belongs To Me" (from Bloody Minded)

Holy Crapoli, Bat-Skank! A new Cock Sparrer CD is here after ten long years, and not only does it sound great, it tips well and can be applied directly to warts. I hesitate calling them the first Oi band as it's not my fight, and I mostly agree with this assessment that Sparrer and others were proto-Oi bands. I never think of them as a skinhead band. Oi is a form of music while skinheads are gang members who run the gamut from somehow benign to genocidally insane. Sham 69 stupidly thought they could have it eight ways to Sunday, while Sparrer didn't play their home island for years because they wouldn't tolerate violence. They're been going at it for thirty odd years, tower over their peers as musicians, and in Here We Stand have recorded the best album of their career.

The only complaint I have with Here We Stand (it's inside baseball stuff) is how the tracks were ordered. Sparrer deliver three types of songs: thoughtful laments on what once was and is either no more or has gone wrong, funny tales of corner pub numbnuttery, and positive anthems of pride. They write catchy tunes in their sleep, as do The Buzzcocks. You somehow expect more than that from Cock Sparrer. I graded eight of the fourteen tracks eight. Here We Stand is front-loaded with eights that hit similar themes. The best tracks, and many of their best don't take themselves seriously, don't kick in until the middle. For an American release I'd rethink the track order. The best are "Spirit Of '76", "Last Orders", "Suicide Girls", "Sussed", "Don't Stop", "Despite All This" and "Too Late".

With Cock Sparrer you can always rely on simple melodies improved upon to the point of excellence, rollicking bass guitar, soaring guitar chords and clever single note progressions, well-written humor, great sing-alongs, and they do some of their best work during what's esoterically known at The Truck Driver's Gear Change.

Cock Sparrer lyrics are the best. I honestly marvel at them. From "Last Orders": "Four pints of lager later things went from bad to worse/ She came back from the toilet, caught me going through her purse/ She said forget the taxi, you're gonna need a hearse/ There's time for one last round// One tequila, two tequila, three tequila four/ I knew I wasn't drunk I had a good grip on the floor/ I puckered up to kiss her but she punched me in the jaw/ Time for one last round". From "Suicide Girls": "For a lifetime or a single night/ You might get into her world/ That'd be strictly by invite/ She's with the Suicide Girls// Just don't try to take her away/ You'll be dead before you fail// Get in the back seat and know your place/ She's with the Suicide Girls."

Try to catch all the lyrical and musical references to other punks bands in "Spirit Of '76". The first is Joe Strummer. I include 1982's "England Belongs to Me" because it rates this: , and that ain't no eight sideways!

Entry Forty-Six: 11/24/2007: Holidays = Time Off. What Else Do You Need To Know?

I, Ludicrous: "Preposterous Tales" (From 20 Years In Show Business)

Jona Lewie: "You'll Always Find Me In The Kitchen At Parties" (From The Stiff Box Set)

Happy Indigenous People's Holocaust Day! I'm greeting people with "Happy Thanksgiving" and getting back a few "Happy Thanks.. Native American Slaughter Turkey Something ... gooble gobble." My only response has been  "The Japanese got over it - so could they." I feel as responsible for what happened in this country a century ago as I do for whoever lived in my apartment prior to me moving in. If Victim Culture was an object I'd puke on it daily. It's condescending and self-destructive. It's the engine of marxism's clown car of endless resentment, celebrated ignorance, chemical dependency, hopeless laziness and violent anger. Marxists care about minorities and the oppressed as much as rapists do foreplay. I enjoy Native American culture as much as the next yob, but let's be honest, they were not the Red Amish. They fought vicious wars, kept slaves, and a few even practiced cannibalism. As a consolation prize they're allowed the myth of always having been brave, pure, strong and wise. Good for them. An ironic situation exists where the effort to replace Native American sports team names will destroy that myth. Without deified mascots the average American will only know them as casino owners and actors in movies. They will lose much of their victim status and in a way disappear. I have empathy for those in need but no sympathy for anyone demanding everything while contributing nothing because of what happened to literal strangers long before any of us were born. My ancestors escaped from Europe and Russia barely in time, with just the clothes on their backs and a load of prejudice staring them in the face. They chose not to be victims and they won. Happy Thanksgiving!!

Anyway, this being the holiday season you'll be spending even more time at parties and bars. Musical duo I, Ludicrous are to The Fall what Ivor Biggun is to Benny Hill, I guess, and their debut flexi-single from 1987 found a home in John Peel's heart and charted decently. I could have bookended it with Colin Moulding's equally British "Frivolous Tonight", but I didn't. Everyone my age remembers "You'll Always Find Me In The Kitchen At Parties". I keep on forgetting it until the next time I hear it, when I say, "Oh yeah, I know this song. It's great." Today I learned how to embed YouTube videos, so aren't I clever by half. Yes I am, clever by half.

Entry Forty-Five: 11/17/2007: A Case Of Musical Negligence: (song links fixed)

The Big Boys: "Spit" (From The Skinny Elvis)

The Big Boys: "TV" (From The Wreck Collection)

Oft times when seeking something to post I trip over a band that forces me to whack my forehead and ejaculate to myself "Self, you must post this, forthwith and posthaste!" Such is the case with Austin, TX's Big Boys (more here and here), hardcore's first and best skateboarding, cross-dressing, punk-funk, post-punk and pre-posthumous band. They were the hub of the Austin scene in the same way Minor Threat owned DC and 7 Seconds ruled Reno. The Phlegm Hockers ran the Sheboygan, WI scene, but nobody noticed or cared.

A lot's made of them ending their shows by yelling "Go start your own band", an act almost as impressive as Randy "Biscuit" Turner slowly drinking himself into the grave. It's one of punk's grand clichés and a Johnny Appleseed mythology that's neither mythic nor ological. If people didn't try to make punk music more than it is the genre would be taken more seriously than a refuge for angry children and retrograde adults.

There will never be a more eclectic hardcore band than The Big Boys, who explored every option and conquered every height and depth. You can post any of a number of song combinations from their catalog to prove them to be anything you want them to be, so I'm choosing "Spit" and a live version of "TV". "Spit" has them combining funk, ska and post-punk so flawlessly you barely notice what just blew by you. "TV" is here, if not just for the intro, "I'm just sweatin' my old prom dress, just wet... you think I'd wet my pants."

I try not to make the following statement too often, because it waters itself down, but if you don't know and love The Big Boys you're three levels less punk than Belle And Sebastian, which isn't very punk at all.

Go start your own web zine.

Entry Forty-Four: 11/10/2007: Kill Yourself First, Then Go On A Killing Spree. (with bonus song!)

The NY Dolls: "Personality Crisis" (from New York Dolls)

NoMeansNo: "I've Got A Gun" (From The Worldhood Of The World, As Such)

The Prostitutes: "Suicide Is Fun" (From Twentyfive Song CD)

This week's wunderkind, Pekka (Pecker)-Eric Auvinen, hails from Finland, located up and to the right on the map. A devout nihilist, he intellectualized the black hole of his soul and rationalized the outward manifestation of his well-earned self-loathing. Happily he's dead. But wait, he was bullied, and felt alienated from his peers. Let's spend the rest of our lives trying to understand his perspective. Or, we could leave Pecker-Eric's corpse to rot in a ditch and order in hoagies! The tiny violin up my ass sometimes twitches in sympathy, but not today.

Here's Eric's-Pecker now! Don't hate him 'cause he's an icon.

I'm a huge fan of Honorable Suicide, know as Hari Kari in Japan and Harry Caray in Chicago. Simply put, if you seriously suspect you're about to start killing random strangers, either get help or kill yourself. Consider it your last if not first act of honor. Like the writers of Dexter stole from my brain, it's nice when the trash takes itself out for a change.

The NY Dolls were the gateway drug between The Rolling Stones And Hedwig And The Angry Inch. David Johansen looks more like a monkey every day. No Means No are against date rape, while NoMeansNo are the world's tightest three-piece hardcore band. They too frown on date rape. Half their catalog plods along in a rock/jazz fashion while the other half rocks the punk to eleven. Everything they record as The Hanson Brothers is great plus one. The Prostitutes were from Long Beach, CA, which means as I type they're probably getting drunk down the street at the Reno Room.

Entry Forty-Three: 11/3/2007: Belated Halloween Post Because I Don't Post Mid-Week

The Groovie Ghoulies: "(She's My) Vampire Girl" (from Fun In The Dark)

King Horror: "Loch Ness Monster" (from The Trojan Skinhead Reggae Box)

Boo! As usual I cowered in the dark on Halloween so I wouldn't have to meet, greet and give away my hard-earned penny candies. Truth is nobody ventures up the lonely stairs that lead up to the apartments above the row of old stores under me. Kids trick or treat in Long Beach but it's not alone and only at well-lit homes. Kids look cute, parents relive their childhoods and my candy remains mine. Everybody wins.

The Groovie Ghoulies sadly broke up for personal reasons, which I hope doesn't mean Kepi and Roach are no longer married. They were always good for a new album and tour, and live they were great. Their catalog was consistently fun but either they were rested and enthused or tired and obligated. Most of their records are worth the time and money. Maybe they were taken for granted after all those years on the road.

King Horror was a fake name used for this recording of "Loch Ness Monster". Trojan Records box sets can be a musical death march but they do yield some pretty sights along the way. Remember kids, they're Trojan boxes, not boxes of Trojans. Needless to say, a Jamaican skinhead was far removed from what you'll find today. Each scream on this song is hysterical. You'd be amazed how many old ska songs were musical gimmicks.

Entry Forty-Two: 10/19/2007: Dear, Melt The Guns With Resonance

XTC: "Melt The Guns" (from English Settlement)

Even In Blackouts: "Dear Resonance" (from Zeitgeist's Echo)

I possess the gosh-given fleeting talent of being able to identify what songs a new song sounds like the first time I hear it. The more I hear the new song the less I'm able to remember what other songs it reminds me of. This isn't a problem with Even In Blackouts' "Dear Resonance", since it opens with the same repeated three guitar notes as XTC's "Melt The Guns". I love everything Even In Blackouts has recorded, and they reign as punk's best (if not only) acoustic band. My reviews of XTC's records and career trajectory can be found on this page. In the '70s and early '80s I collected all things XTC at a level of obsessive-compulsivity that would have made Joey Ramone genuflect in my general direction.

Entry Forty-One: 10/15/2007: Deth By Lawnmower

Lawnmower Deth: "A Funny Thing About It Is" (from Billy)

Lawnmower Deth: "Billy" (from Billy)

If my new home internet service doesn't start working by tonight I'm gonna go FedEx-al on they asses! Lawnmower Deth were a mid-90's funny metal band out of the UK with Gwar-esque named band members who ended their career in 1994 with Billy, a great pop-punk record that irked old fans and hastened their demise. There's not much to say except the playing is tight, varied, fun and funny. The Squeeze and Kim Wilde covers are good, but the CD ends like a bear farting sadness with a weathered rendition of "Purple Haze". Besides that I'd rate this one seven out of eight chef hats. You can probably pick this up used for bupkis.

Entry Forty: 10/5/2007: It Came From The Bottom Of My Gym Bag

Kill Allen Wrench: "Beautiful" (from My Bitch Is  A Junkie)

The Lillingtons: "I Saw The Apeman (On The Moon)" (from Death By Televison)

The Residents: "Their Early Years" (from The Way We Were)

Editors: "All Sparks" (from The Back Room)

I'm leaving on a jet plane so I didn't have time to study for this test. My new internet's still not on at home so I'm sneaking this in at work. Here's four songs to overcompensate, from CDs I keep in my gym bag. It's better than nothing...or is it?

Based on the website I have no idea if Kill Allen Wrench is still active. I met him around 2002 when he was trying to be scum-rock's king of all media. Allen's fifteen5 minutes of worldwide fame came when it was claimed he was hired by Courtney Love to kill Kurt Cobain, offing El Duce in the process. He played it up on his site for a while but I see no reference to it now. Kill Allen Wrench on this CD are a mirror image of The Meatmen, yet Allen said he'd never heard them before. Allen's also an ultimate fighter and one of his guitarists was nationally ranked. Kill Allen Wrench might be, literally, punk's toughest band. They get categorized under metal but I think it's a six blind men and an elephant thing.

The Lillingtons are my favorite pop-punk band and hopefully they'll record more in the future. I always find myself hypnotized by Kody's wall of guitar fuzz. I had the pleasure of seeing them twice and also hanging out with them. Nice guys.

My love-hate relationship with The Residents is well documented and I'll leave it at that. 2005's The Way We Were has them performing a great set list and and doing it well. "Their Early Years" still creeps me out after nineteen or so years.

Editors are a great neo-Joy Division band whose second album was decent but nothing near The Back Room. They came through for me when Interpol didn't. I'd like to say more but my tush should be out the door by now.

Bye!

Entry Thirty-Nine: 9/28/2007: Why, The Nerves Of Those Guys

The Nerves: "When You Find Out" (from The Nerves EP)

The Nerves: "Paper Dolls" (from The Nerves CD)

My new internet connection at home hasn't kicked in yet so I'm doing this at work with a disc from my car. Shhhh, don't tell my boss. The Nerves were a Los Angeles power pop supergroup of sorts with three equally talented members who came and went in 1976, releasing a four song EP with a few recent and expanded re-issues. Jack Lee played guitar and never really got anything started after that except an album of old and new songs. Peter Case played bass and later formed The Plimsouls, who recorded "A Million Miles Away", providing a lifetime of decent royalty checks. Drummer Paul Collins later formed The Beat, which forced another band to change their name to The English Beat.

Lee's "Hanging On The Telephone" was covered by Blondie and both versions are equally good. Case's "When You Find Out" is my favorite, and I always imagine beatniks dancing a slow Twist to it while looking gloriously bored. Paul Collin's "Paper Dolls" is the best of the non-EP tracks. The Nerves didn't hit everything out of the park with their limited discography, but "Hanging On The Telephone", "When You Find Out" and "Working Too Hard" (improved greatly by Collins with The Beat) are indisputable classics.

Entry Thirty-Eight: 9/25/2007: Arrgh! Buried Treasure!! (Links Dead)

The Migraines: "Start Procrastinating" (from Jevenilia)

Jailcell Recipes: "Forced" (from Two Years Of Toothache)

September 19th was the annual Talk Like A Pirate Day, which I would celebrate if I didn't find the idea as stupid and contrived as Festivus. Still, I want to share buried musical treasure, so... arrgh? Sometimes a record yields a song that's out of place with everything else on the disc because it's different and actually very good, as if another band wrote and performed it.. Above are two examples.

The Migraines put out two CDs in the '90s that weren't fantastic, but they tried so hard to be Sloppy Seconds I couldn't help but like them. In 1999 the lead singer did a 180 and The Migraines became a Christian band, opening for both The Huntingtons and Stryper (!) "Start Procrastinating" sounds like The Bollweevils on a great day. The rest of the disc is fair to middling junk rock with a few shining moments sprinkled about.

For a long time I couldn't find any information on Jailcell Recipes because I thought their name was "Jailhouse Recipes". I had their compilation CD but sold it back quickly, only copying "Forced", a pop-punk gem with melody and wessonality to spare. I recall the rest was some kind of rock thing that worked as well as a dollar store pregnancy test.

Entry Thirty-Seven: 9/18/2007: That's PegMAN To You, Pal

Pegboy: "Strong Reaction" (from Strong Reaction)

Pegboy: "Superstar" (from Strong Reaction)

Today The Onion was swell enough to name a Pegboy CD as a hall of fame "Permanent Record". I squealed and clapped my girlish hands together in delight. Here's a pleasant mental image. Pegboy rose out of the ashes of Naked Raygun and delivered a melodic and powerful punch not seen since the first Dag Nasty LP, Can I Say. Pegboy's both original and derivative at the same time, and either they created something new or made what was old new again to the tenth power. I see them on a straight Naked Raygun meets Dag Nasty trajectory, so I'm not agreeing with the helpful Flex Discography, which says says they're a combination of Naked Raygun, Moving Targets and The Buzzcocks. Silly Flex Discography. Trix are for kids and tricks are for whores.

The Three Chord Monte EP from 1990 blew a hole through the head of the American punk scene. The most excellent Strong Reaction LP followed in 1991 and Pegboy were popular with the sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, waistoids, dweebies, dickheads - they all adored them. They thought Pegboy were righteous dudes. 1993's Fore EP was decent enough but 1994's Earwig wasn't that good at all. Many liked Naked Raygun's Jettison while I didn't, so maybe Earwig is Pegboy's Jettison.  1997's Cha Cha Damone took a long time to grow on me. At first I thought it was lazy all the way around, and having the word "Danger" in three some titles seemed a bit too cute.

"Strong Reaction" and "Superstar" are two Pegboy songs that have never failed to make me mutter "Oh Yeah" within three seconds. If it gets any better than this...no, wait, it doesn't get any better than this. Oh yeah.

Entry Thirty-Six: 9/8/2007: Singing Hubba Bubba With Robert Gordon

Robert Gordon: "Rock Billy Boogie" (from Robert Gordon Is Red Hot)

Robert Gordon: "Something's Gonna Happen" (from Robert Gordon Is Red Hot)

When it came to retro-revival music Robert Gordon didn't just hoist on a costume like Buster Poindexter. He lived it, even more so than Bowzer of Sha Na Na. If you look at then-and-now pictures of Gordon and Bowzer you'll notice they've aged alike, except Gordon doesn't reflexively strike a pose at the flash of a camera.

Gordon set the table for The Stray Cats' success but didn't reap the same rewards. The Stray Cats were kitsch and cute, and also serious. Robert Gordon was just serious. His pedigree was assured by his association with Link Wray and for hiring Elvis' backup singers, The Jordanaires. I remember 1982's compilation Too Fast To Live, Too Young To Die sold well in new wave circles. My two favorite tracks were "Someday, Someway" and "Something's Gonna Happen", both written by Marshall Crenshaw.

"Rock Billy Boogie" was written by Johnny Burnette in the 1950s, and it's my favorite Robert Gordon Hubba Bubba song. I can sing the whole thing with just two sounds, "Hubba" and "Bubba". You can sing Hubba Bubba to a lot of Robert Gordon songs, especially the slow ones. Hubba Bubba is a tribute to a favorite old Washington, DC talk show host, Joel A. Spivak, a lovable curmudgeon who, when asked how he was doing, always replied "I never answer personal questions". Whenever Elvis came up he would sing "Wella, wella, wella" from "Summer Nights" and the Grease soundtrack, which has as much to do with Elvis Presley as The Stray Cats. Still, I laughed every time.

Entry Thirty-Five: 9/1/2007: Labor Day Special

Wall Of Voodoo: "Factory" (from Call Of The West) link to video

The Futureheads: "First Day" (from Futureheads)

You can't see me but I'm doing the No Work On Monday Dance, not to be confused with the Call In Sick Friday Shuffle. Monday is Labor Day, when Jerry Lewis pops out of his mansion to scream "Nice lady! Summer's over!" while husbands pour gasoline on charcoal fires to git-r-done. Hoo-fricking-ray. To paraphrase Woody Allen's line about orgasms, even my worst day off was right on the money.

Wall Of Voodoo is as unique a band as there ever was, and with Stan at the helm they never recorded a bad song. I won't get started on why Wall Of Voodoo is the most undervalued new wave group of all time, as it's a given. All their elements were quirky and brilliant, and they came together, you guessed it, right on the money.

"Factory" is an album track off Call Of The West that's emerged as one of their best, probably because Stan wrote lyrics that painted a perfect picture of workplace malaise, ennui and every other pretentious French expression for a slice of American working life in an era long gone yet still here. The home-made youtube video is neat, but I see it set more in the world of Blood Simple, with a little Eraserhead thrown in. These are the most visual lyrics I know of.

"now i know i had something to say but the problem is to say something uhh...you gotta say it
and i still don't remember a thing since that funny gas came out of that pipe next to me / i guess they didn't ok it
now i remember--did i tell ya?

cut my thumb off at the knuckle on a broken band saw didn't see the belt buckle or the blade slip
and i remember when the doctor did it up with a stitch funny thing...still got a scratch that i can't itch where my thumb was
now i've brought the same piece of chicken in a bag to work everyday for the last twenty years or so
and i really don't mind, work assembly line got an intercom blasting the news and the latest on the baseball scores
come around every friday, well i get a paycheck take the same road home that i come to work on, heck, it's a living

and i got another factory at home, got a barbeque, pink mustang, fenders chrome
and at nine o'clock i sit there in my chair, and i don't know why i lose my hair
and then i go to / and then i go to / and then i go to sleep

well i like to know what i'm doing when i do it and i do what i'm doing 'cause i don't know what to do when i'm not doing it
sometimes i remember as a boy my father told me i could grow up to be anything i really wanted to be / anything
and everyday at lunch i still look for my lost digit still got that funny scratch, so maybe when i find it i can itch it
and i got a little rubber pool in the backyard for the kids to wade in

and i....i...i...i...i...i?
i got another factory back home, got a little backyard, pink mustang, fenders chrome
at nine o'clock i'm in my chair sat down, just lately now when my wife talks back to me i slap her around
and then i go to / and then i go to / and then i go to sleep."

"First Day" is probably the weakest track off The Futureheads excellent debut CD, due to the lyrics. It's coffee house insight on the evils of corporations from 25 year old college grads to 22 year old college grads. I work for a corporation now, have worked for them before, and have also been self-employed. At the end of the day it's all the same. Where corporations numb you with bureaucracy, working for a small business is like being stranded on a desert island with the same few lunatics.

"Welcome to your new job, hope you have a wonderful first day
We are so happy to have you join the team, you are so lucky on your first day
And they say

This is the job that people die for, i hope you're ready for the next stage
Alot of people work in the same place, don't let them get in your way

Dinner time you go to the cantine, you make a new friend at the dinner break
You like to talk when you're eating, but today you listen to him

And he says like it or not, you have to do what they say
And it is something that you would like to talk about, but it's only your first day
And they say

This is the job that people die for, i hope you're ready for the next stage
Alot of people work in the same place, don't let them get in your way

And they say faster faster
It's time to take you to the next stage, but it's only your first day
And you're not ready for the next stage
And they say faster faster
It's time to take you to the next stage, and it is something that you would like to talk about
But it's only your first day
(first day), you are so lucky on your first day (first day)
You feel so happy on your first day (fisrt day), you are so lucky on your first day (first day)

This is the job that people die for, i hope you're ready for the next stage
Alot of people work in the same place, don't let them get in your way

Welcome to your new job (first day), hope you have a wonderful first day (first day)
We are so happy to have you join the team (first day), you are so lucky on your first day (first day)

Lucky lucky lucky on your first day (people die for people die for) [x4]"

There's the 4,274th fantasy land of anarchy idiocy called "Why Work?", which on a practical level boils down to demanding the government provide you an annual income as a reward for figuring out work is for suckers, fools and tools.

Entry Thirty-Four: 8/25/2007: In August 1977, Elvis Met His Fate, But He Could Not Get Into Heaven, 'Cause He Couldn't Fit Through The Gate

Peter & The Test Tube Babies: : "Elvis Is Dead". Fast version on USAupload slow version on MediaFire

The Residents: "Blue Suede Shoes" (from The King & Eye) USAupload

In my belligerent youth I hated Elvis Presley for the simple reason that I could. I devoured the hateful Albert Goldman biography, supplemented my Weekly World News reading with Is Elvis Alive?, and was disappointed Elvis People: The Cult Of The King was slim and poorly written (a fun page here). In my retrospective middle age I wonder why I got so worked up over someone who didn't affect my life in any way. I sum up Presley's life by saying he was a product of every environment he was in, and while his music offers little to me personally I respect whatever his fans say are his accomplishments. Case closed, and on to more pressing matters, like where's that smell coming from. Just before he died, in 1997 I watched illegal Dutch immigrant Colonel Tom Parker eat lunch in Las Vegas. He was as decrepit an old man as I'd ever seen. If there's a next life he's a chicken dancing on a hot plate.

Peter And The Test Tube Babies formed in 1978 and are still around. They're an Oi band with a decent sense of humor and two fistfuls of great songs. They're the only Oi band I knew of with a bespectacled "Punky Herbert" as a member, and they're the only Oi band I can think of who made a smooth transition to a post-punk sound. I could write a book on my love-disappointed relationship with San Francisco's The Residents. Since Molly Harvey left they've been in a creative free-fall, with the creative reins in some kind of flux fans are, as always, not allowed to be a part of. 1989's The King And Eye was a great lead-in to the most excellent Cube-E Tour, which in typical Resident's screw-up fashion was never filmed in its entirety. Here's some Youtubes: Bam! Pow! Ka-Pwing! Crash!

Entry Thirty-Three: 8/18/2007: M.O.T.O. = Masters Of The Obvious

Masters Of the Obvious: "Crystalize My Penis" (from Single File CD)

Masters Of The Obvious: "It's So Big It's Flourescent" (from Single File CD)

After months of Hypnotic-Regression Therapy I learned two things: my uncle Waldo regularly touched my nose in inappropriate ways, and my first contact with M.O.T.O. was the 1988 compilation EP Footprints Of God, with their track "Crystallize My Penis". I then picked up the Hammeroid EP, which opens with "It's So Big It's Fluorescent". It's been lurve ever since. First I wrote him at his apartment in Chicago, then I began sending cash. Did I get back lurve in return? No! Only 7" records and cassettes with poorly scrawled song lists.

Paul Caporino created M.O.T.O in 1981 and has recorded solo, with a full band, and, at his peak, with Beck Dudley on drums. This pairing makes up Single File. I imagine most of his songs were recorded on a Close'N Play, and proudly so. M.O.T.O. is lo-fi without the cute and garage without retro hipster disease. Being a Joe Job Lifer in the ever-growing retail vinyl industry, Paul's exposure to every good and bad recording of the last forty or so years has yielded a massive catalog of songs and styles, sometimes thrashy and often pure cheese. I'd start with Single File and work my way down towards the cassettes.

You don't need to be childish to like M.O.T.O., but it surely doesn't hurt.

Entry Thirty-Two: 8/10/2007: Oh God. Atheists! (Inspired by Robert, The Secular Canuck)

Fear: "What If God's Not One Of Us" (from American Beer)

Tesco Vee's Hate Police: "Losing My Religion" (from Surprise Your Pig: A Tribute To R.E.M.)

I was waiting for a sign from above to write this, and there it was at dawn as I left the Ralph's parking lot.

One Nation...Under Dog. With fleas and ringworm for all.

With Jim Belushi W/O Jim Belushi

As an agnostic I have no opinion on the Religion-Atheism Wars except a wish the worst from both sides kill each other in a plastic spork battle. A belief in god is neither better nor worse than a disbelief in god, and an atheist has as much proof there is no god as a religious person has proof there is. Rob hates when I type this, but here it is: Religion is a science based on faith and atheism is a faith based on science. Religious people and atheistic people are of the equal value - it's up to each to choose wisely and act accordingly.

I like being agnostic. You don't have to do anything. We have no under-educated putzes like Pat Robertson or over-educated fascists like Richard Dawkins, who recently said "he would remove all financial support from Christian, Jewish, and Muslim schools and make them teach atheism; prohibit hospital chaplains from solacing the ill; and undertake other measures to combat the 'infantile regression' of religious belief. And what about parents who persist in telling their children about religion? 'It’s probably too strong to say the state should have the right to take children away from their parents,' Dawkins told an interviewer, 'But I think we have got to look very carefully at the rights of parents - and whether they should have the right to indoctrinate their children. Dawkins is Adolf Eichmann. Fred Phelps isn't Eichmann, he's just a redneck piece of s--t.

For every simpleton Jesus Camper there's a loser like Fat Atheist who unzipped his beautiful mind in a video called The Atheists' Ten Commandments, a hysterical example of utopian self-aggrandizement. Here's a sad little statistical truth: most people call themselves religious because they believe in god, while most atheists call themselves atheist because they hate religious people.

Does being agnostic make me better than religious nuts and smug atheists? Yes, but that's only because I used the terms "nuts" and "smug". My arguments of equivalence aren't packed with hypocritical qualifiers. It's not a matter of having the better argument or the bigger following, it's about not being a hateful, condescending, nihilistic sack of wet crap. My major beliefs are on this page, and I never have to make exceptions because I've sold out to a cause.

I only know of one agnostic punk song, so until that blessed day science conjures up another one I offer two cover tunes that aren't openly hateful to religion, as is the fashion. If I have to explain The Meatmen or Fear you might not be ready for a big kid's zine like this one. Tesco's cover is rote, but Fear's re-titled cover of the Joan Osborn hit "One Of Us" kicks ass. I think you can actually dance to this one, and Ving's voice has never been in better form.

Entry Thirty-One: 8/4/2007: Sense Field's Building

Sense Field: "Overstand" (from Building)

Sense Field: "Outlive The Man" (from Building)

Sense Field were a great second wave emo band from Orange County, CA. Here's an emo scorecard from the Urban Dictionary:

The first wave (1985–1994) of emo music came from bands like Rites of Spring, Moss Icon, Nation of Ulysses, Dag Nasty, Shudder To Think, Fire Party, Marginal Man, and Gray Matter.

The second wave (1994–2000) had bands such as The Get Up Kids, Jimmy Eat World and Texas Is the Reason.

The third wave (2000–Present) has bands such as AFI, Alexisonfire, A Static Lullaby, Brand New, Coheed and Cambria, Fall Out Boy, Finch, From Autumn To Ashes, From First To Last, Funeral for a Friend, Hawthorne Heights, Matchbook Romance, My Chemical Romance, Silverstein, Something Corporate, The Starting Line, Taking Back Sunday, The Used, Thrice, and Thursday.

The first wave was too much like jazz and the third wave is the new goth, incorporating the worst of pop-punk and theatrical metal. The second wave had some snoozers but also great bands like Seven Storey Mountain (listen to the samples) and Sense Field. Sense Field's first two CDs, both from 1994, were overly influenced by grunge, but in 1996 they released their best work, Building, held together by a cohesive tension you rarely find anywhere. This one had a comparable consistency.

Five years passed in a tale of numbnuttery where the record label and band shared equal blame. In 2001 Tonight And Forever came out, yielding them commercial success with "Save Yourself", followed two years later by Living Outside. These two records were very good even if they tended towards sweeping melodies and a trippiness that reflected lead singer Jonathan Bunch, who reminded me of a hippie on Prozac when I saw them play live.

I posted the first two tracks of the CD so you can get a taste of the flow of a masterful, unified work. Emo didn't always stink, and it wasn't always just for moody children. Ya know.

Entry Thirty: 7/27/2007: My One and Two-Thirds Favorite Nonsense Words

The Go-Nuts: "Snik Snak Skaduliak" (from The Last Great Thing You Did, a Lookout Compilation)

Nerf Herder: "Nosering Girl" (from Nerf Herder)

Nothing has made me laugh harder or longer than a line in a dirty limerick that sounds like "Canoofullagoo". It goes something (exactly) like this: "There once was a man from Peru, who fell asleep in a canoe. He dreamed about Venus while holding his penis, and he woke up in a canoe full of goo." I'm laughing like a putz even as I type this. I have no idea why this always cracks me up. "Snik Snak Skaduliak" is another one I can never say with a straight face. "Baba Ghannouj" is a real thing, an eggplant dish that when made well will roll your eyes into the back of your skull. It sounds like "Babbaganoosh", which my Persian friends know I use to express any emotion, from happiness to curiosity to disappointment. It may be an entire language for all I know.

Nerf Herder formed in 1994 but I never listened to them until recently when I fell in love with 2002's American Cheese. They're a strictly pop-punk version of Weezer, with an icky nerd factor of 11. They performed the theme to Buffy The Vampire Slayer. "Nosering Girl" is an average tune by them but you will hear the words "Baba Ghannouj", so here it is on my theme-based MP3 thingy.

The Go-Nuts are donut-based life forms and the "World's Greatest Super Hero Snak Rock & Gorilla Revue". To keep a short story short, they're members of The Phantom Surfers, Untamed Youth and the Dave and Deke Combo who cast themselves as the '90s version of the Banana Splits. I don't know how far the gimmick took them, but I enjoy it in small doses. If "Snik Snak Skaduliak" doesn't make you smile you're dead inside, DEAD!

Entry Twenty-Nine: 7/20/2007: Ray Davies Presents Johnny Thunders & Tom Robinson

The Kinks: "One Of The Survivors" (from Preservation Act 1)

The Kinks: "Prince Of The Punks" (from Sleepwalker extended CD)

Rely on oldpunks.com (a division of oldpunksglobalcorp ©) for all your trivial trivia needs. Guitarist and drug toilet Johnny Thunders reportedly took his stage name from the 1968 Kinks song "Johnny Thunder", about 60's footnote singer Johnny Thunder. That's a boring tune, so instead I present "One Of The Survivors" from 1973. It's also about Johnny Thunder but this one has pep and better lyrics:

"Prince Of The Punks" was the b-side of the great 1986 Kinks single "Father Christmas". It was a direct mockery of Tom Robinson, signed to the Kinks label at the time. In retrospect Ray and Tom should have either killed each other or gotten a room.

"A well known groover, rock 'n' roll user,
Wanted to be a star.
But he failed the blues, and he's back to loser,
Playing folk in a country bar.

Reggae music didn't seem to satisfy his needs.
He couldn't handle modern jazz,
'Cause they play it in difficult keys.
But now he's found a music he can call his own,
Some people call it junk, but he don't care,
He's found a home.

He's the prince of the punks and he's finally made it,
Thinks he looks cool but his act is dated.
He acts working class but it's all bologna,
He's really middle class and he's just a phony.
He acts tough but it's just a front,
He's the prince of the punks.

He's the prince of the punks and he's finally made it,
Thinks he looks cool but his act is dated.

He tried to be gay, but it didn't pay,
So he bought a motorbike instead.
He failed at funk, so he became a punk,
'Cause he thought he'd make a little more bread.

He's been through all of the changes,
From rock opera to Mantovani.
Now he wears a swastika band
And leather boots up past his knees.

He's much too old for twenty-eight,
But he thinks he's seventeen,
He thinks he's a stud,
But I think he looks more like a queen.

He's the prince of the punks and he's finally made it,
Thinks he looks cool but his act is dated.
He talks like a Cockney but it's all bologna,
He's really middle class and he's just a phony.
He acts tough but it's just a front.

He's the prince of the punks and he's finally made it,
Thinks he looks cool but his act is dated.
He acts working class but it's all bologna,
He's really middle class and he's just a phony.
He acts tough but it's just a front,

He's the prince of the punks and he's finally made it,
Thinks he looks cool but his act is dated.
He acts working class but it's all bologna,
He's really middle class and he's just a phony.
He acts tough but it's just a front,
He's the prince of the punks."

Entry Twenty-Eight: 7/13/2007: A Bug Generically And A Bug Specifically

The Urinals: "I'm A Bug" (from Negative Capability)

Wire: "I Am The Fly" (from Chairs Missing)

The Urinals were a late-70's art-punk band from Los Angeles who played China as late as 2005. According to their blog they influenced The Gun Club, The Minutemen and The Meat Puppets. The man on the left looks like my Uncle Mort, if I had one. Here's another good band history. In 1983 they released their first album as 100 Flowers and today are known as The Chairs Of Perception. The three tracks on their myspace page are very good. The Urinals were called the American Wire.

The British Urinals, Wire, put out three great records, Pink Flag ('77), Chairs Missing ('78) and 154 ('79), and then more stuff before releasing the excellent Send in 2003. That middle period was, how to put this, self-indulgent. This live DVD of Wire in their prime is sperminal, I mean seminal. If you own no Wire, start here.

Entry Twenty-Seven: 7/07/2007: Duh-Amm! Great Music Took A Nap In The 80s!

Comsat Angels: "Missing In Action" (from Waiting For A Miracle)

Comsat Angels: "Home Is The Range" (from Waiting For A Miracle)

But first, a thought. I was stuck next to car blasting Rap and I was trying to figure out if it had any unifying message. I guess it does. I'm thinking Rap exists to  remind women that they be bitches.

I'm in the process of listening to all my CDs and transferring the ones I want to keep onto my hard drive. It's a long, boring process that will continue until The Third Coming. I've always thought this, but now I know it for sure -- New Wave died in 1982 and Punk took a dirt-nap around 1984 with the advent of Metal Hardcore. There's a Post-Punk and Post-New Wave genre called either Dream Pop, Alternative Pop or Neo-Psychedelia. Major bands include Echo & The Bunnymen, The Church, The Chameleons UK and The Comsat Angels. The Comsat Angels are the only band of the bunch I can take, but not by much! My god, it's lounge music for goths. So many songs of the genre start with silence and barely work their way up. Ugh. I imagine the genre appeals to self-centered individuals who see their own thought processes in iconic terms.

The Comsat Angels started strong and then slowed it down, but quick, for the rest of their career. "Missing In Action" opens their 1980 album Waiting For A Miracle, the only album you need. "Home Is The Range" is from the same period, found on the Waiting For A Miracle extended CD. For the genre, it blisters. The relativity of that term boggles the mind like the concept of infinity.

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