Sunday afternoon, the Houston Texans will face the New England Patriots to determine who gets to face (probably) the Denver Broncos in the AFC Championship and no one thinks the Texans can pull off a win. And yes, I include myself in that group.
Look, we got STOMPED by the Patriots last month and I can totally understand why no one is willing to give us a chance. They've got Tom Brady and Bill Bellichik, Vince Wilfork fucking demolished our offensive line and they're playing the game at home in Foxboro, Massachusetts. I went into Reliant Stadium last Saturday dreading an early exit from the playoffs and fortunately we were able to squeak out with a win. There were positives though like just about every facet of our game except for our horrendous red zone office and special teams that flat out blow goats. And then something happened that not only gave me hope that we would not just be competitive (unlike the last game that was, I believe 21-0 after the first quarter) but KICK THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT THEM.
Pubeface head columnist for the Boston Globe, Dan Shaughnessy unleashed a hacky, gloating and just dickish column (I'm not linking to it here because I don't want to give them hits and besides, it's behind a fucking paywall) on Sunday about how, essentially, the Patriots have been gifted a second round bye in the playoffs even though they have to play a game this week. It got people all across Houston pissed and even running back Arian Foster took a piece of the column and made it his new twitter avatar. Texans fans began talking about "bulletin board material" (football code for locker room motivation), local journalists thought he went way over the line (the Texans are a fucking 12-4 team, after all) and pubeface even showed up on a couple of Houston radio stations where he basically admitted he couldn't really back any of the specific shit he spewed about the team and that people from Houston know more about football than he does and that many of the counterarguments he had came across were correct. See, this is what Shaughnessy does (and unfortunately I'm familiar with his bile because I'm a Red Sox fan): he makes the story, whatever the fuck it is about whatever fucking Boston team he feels compelled to either blow or take a dump on, about him. Everyone I know that has lived in Boston and every single caller from New England that dimed into Houston radio professed an intense hatred for the man and his minimal talents (btw, how much of a self-obsessed cockbag do you have to be to write a book about your FUCKING SON'S senior year high school baseball season) and some even felt that he had a cursing touch to him. Oh, sweet titty fucking christ, in this case I hope that is true.
As I said before, I'm a die-hard Red Sox fan and have been that way since I was 6 years old (the why and how of that aren't really important here) and over the last few years I have been able to make the trip to Fenway Park either while visiting friends or on father-son trips. Pretty great times. And through these trips and the rise of internet journalism and blogging I have learned one simple fact: New Englanders really only give a shit about the Red Sox. Oh sure, there's the Celtics who enjoy a healthy following (in part to LARRY FACKIN' BIRD) and you can catch some folks who are still passionate Bruins fans but until about 2000, the majority of the Massholes did not give a FUCK about the Patriots. No one is really going to admit this to you now, but until Brady and the dark lord Bellichik came around these folks were content to sit in in dark bars shouting out "PITCHAS AND CATCHAS *clapclapclapclapclap*" until they become the dominant near dynasty they are today. Allow me to provide you with some examples of my personal experiences with Patriots fans and some relayed to me by friends who lived or are living up in FACKIN' TITLETOWN.
*So, I'm sitting in the bleachers at Fenway with my dad enjoying the Red Sox kicking the shit out of the Yankees and four stereotypical Tommy from Quinzee's sit down behind us, already drunk and with two beers a piece (they don't have vendors for alcohol at Fenway because people already show up fucking shitfaced). By the 7th inning, after hearing about "fingahblasting slawts" and general douchebaggery one guy got really reflective over the Patriots recent Super Bowl loss to the New York Giants. I will never forget hearing this idiocy:
"It was a fackin' conspirahcy! A fackin' conspirahcy I tells ya! The PAHTS should've one the fackin' Super Bowl! It was a fix! The refs were in on it! There's no-ah wa-ay we could've lost that fackin' game!"
And a friend steps in with some spurious logic, "Maybe they-ah wanted it more-ah."
This set homeboy off, "FACK THAT! WE-AH WANTED IT MOR-AH! TO GO 19-0 AND SHUT THAT FACK FACED MERCURY MORRIS UP FOREVER AND TO TRULY BECOME THE GREATRIOTS." If I wasn't giggling so hard while texting this to Black Nathan I might have puked.
*Same trip. Dad and I are walking up to a day game early so we can hit restaurant up around Yawkey Way and grab some beers. I spot a big duckboat filled with people decked out in their most garish NFL-superfan-asshole gear and they're starting to shoot a commercial for the Patriots upcoming season. As soon as the cameras start rolling and the duckboat got wild I shouted out "18 AND 1! 18 AND 1! 18 AND 1!" Filming stopping because people starting cursing and throwing things at us. It was awesome.
*When the Patriots blew their perfect season there were reports coming out of Boston that many bars were papering up their windows because grown men were crying uncontrollably. I called my friend, who was working at a gay bar, and asked her if this was true. She confirmed it was and then threw in, "even the butch lesbians couldn't stop sobbing."
*Same friend went to a Texans-Patriots game with her then husband in their Texans gear and were constantly harassed by drunken fans and even had some beer and projectiles hurled their way. Look, I get that this happens at every NFL stadium and I'm not comparing this ordeal to a fucking Raiders home game but their heckling was as clever as this: "David CAAH! CAN'T DRIVE HIS CAAH! CAN'T FIND HIS CAAH!" Plus, people who didn't just start rooting for a team that was suddenly good and had actually stuck with them through their previous suckage castigated those assholes and tried to protect my friends.
I'm not trying to say that these instances are representative of all Patriots fans but they do seem to be the norm when you hear stories about their epic dickishness and sense of entitlement (I realize you can say that about Red Sox fans as well and at this point I couldn't disagree). Pubeface Dan Shaugnessy and his bullshit column are emblematic of their arrogant attitudes (apparently, fans in Boston had been creaming their jeans over getting to play the Texans after the bye round), no matter how much they might reject him or that characterization. And if there is any karma for a fanbase or hacky sportswriters or maybe for a team that CHEATED to win a couple of rings, then the Texans will hopefully send them all back into a dark bar screaming "PITCHAS AND CATCHAS!"
The Texans don't need any extra motivation. These guys are professional athletes who are hyper competitive and understand that they get paid to execute plays and win ballgames. But all this shit talk seems to have given the team (and it's fans) an extra boost and maybe they'll just walk away with a win. I'm not counting on it but I'd prefer anything other than another rout. So, this weeks theme is gonna be songs to help my fellow Texans fans get even more fired up for Sundays game.
Gluecifer - Get the Horn from the album Soaring with Eagles at Night (to Rise with Pigs in the Morning) (White Jazz Records)
Ah, Gluecifer, Norways 2nd greatest band of all time. I don't need to tell you who #1 is, do I? Right, let's move on. Ever since the team, or at least the defense originally but let's face it the tag is now stuck to the Texans as a whole, started being referred to as "Bulls on Parade" this has been my go to song for them. In fact, this is my official song for the Texans. FUCK CLAY WALKER'S MODERN COUNTRY ABORTION OF A TUNE. God, I fucking despise that song. I saw a shitty generic punk band one night cover the old Oilers tune but replaced the Oilers with Texans and was leagues better than that bullshit. Anyway, I think we need to mount a campaign to make "Get the Horn" the new official song of the Houston Texans and Turbojugend Bayou City can proudly lead that charge. Doesn't it make you want to just wreck everything in sight when Biff Malibu kicks with his, "Well I'm packin/ and I'm bad/ and I'm a rock MA-CHEEEEHHEEEN"? I can't be alone in this. Plus, this is one of the greatest music videos ever assembled. I wanna see my boys destroy on Sunday like #90 destroys his liver, old dudes and innocent ladies in this video.
Rocket from the Crypt - Heads are Gonna Roll from the singles collection All Systems Go, Vol. 2 (Sympathy for the Record Industry)
This is easily one of my favorite RFTC songs ever. Did I mention that they have reunited this year and will tour Europe and (maaaaaaaybe) record a new album and play some U.S. shows? Yeah, a Texans victory here would make me just slightly happier than that news. I've used this song in a few columns over the years like when I picked songs the U.S. army should use when they drop bombs on people instead of "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" or what my walk out music would be if I were a baseball closer and I'm pulling it out again. Look, I want these guys going into the game thinking they're about to start a brutal, bloody rumble and if you listen to lyrics it seems like just Speedo himself is armed (knife, box cutter, waist length of chain, enough pain for two) to wreck at least 50 people in a street fight. Plus, the song qualifies its bravado with the addition of "...if we can make 'em roll." I hope the Texans are capable of that task.
Black Flag - Rise Above from the album Damaged (SST Records)
Cliched? Eh, maybe. But "Rise Above" is still one of the best tracks ever to lead off a record. It's a song that always gets me psyched and the adrenaline flowing. Maybe this one should go out to the pundits and sportswriters that have taken to calling the Texans "frauds" etc,. What the fuck ever. This team went 12-4 and "are gonna have [their] chance" to silence their critics. *Fingers crossed*
Slayer - Fight Till Death from the Album Show No Mercy (Metal Blade)
Do I really need to go into a descriptive or qualify this choice? SLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Iggy and the Stooges - Search and Destroy from the Album Raw Power (Columbia/Legacy)
We close things out with a song that makes me feel like I could destroy universes instead of just shooting them up into my wife's nether regions. It's impossible not to feel like a human wrecking machine once James Williamson's lead begins to shred your ear drums while Ron Asheton's bass fuzzes right along but then Iggy comes in with the classic intro line, "I'm a street walkin' cheetah with a heart full of nay-pawlm!" (based on a leather jacket he used to wear with a cheetah face on the back which he later traded to Leonard Phillips of the Dickies for smack) and you're mind just explodes. Nothing gets me revved up and ready to go like this song. According the majority of the media, as stated before, the Texas seems to be the worlds "forgotten boys" in this match-up and hopefully they'll be like the Iggster and search and destroy all over the field on Sunday. BULLS ON PARADE, MOTHERFUCKERS!
Friday, January 11, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
The Friday Five, Volume 3: Celebrating the ModPopPunk Archives #1
About 12 years ago I moved into my first apartment. I had just left St. Thomas (fucking Catholics, man) to attend U of H and went from enjoying the luxuries of a T1 internet connection and being able to check out scores of new albums via mIRC chatrooms and Napster or Limewire to a one bedroom joint in a Montrose fourplex with either a fucking dialup internet connection or something at the dawn of the home DSL era and waiting for what then seemed like an eternity to stream or download an mp3 on a bands website.
At night I'd come home from the bar or a show hopped up on some legal or illegal (usually the latter) stimulant and would pass the time until my body passed out from exhaustion (or a few beers to come down) by chain smoking and scouring the archives of a fantastic website I came across somehow called the ModPopPunk Archives.
I was just really getting into power pop and Killed By Death comps at this point and this website seemed like it was built just to feed my insatiable hunger for the stuff. It's where I first came across some classic bands like Shoes, the Only Ones, Stiv Bators solo material and a ton of other great bands. I was seriously fucking up at life at that point when you consider my erratic demeanor due to booze and the wonders of modern chemistry and as a result was increasingly lonely and fucking up every promising romantic relationship and a lot of the tunes I found here helped me get through all of that bullshit. I had a mix CD that did not leave my Discman or car CD player for, like, a year filled with the treasures I discovered because of the kind proprieter of the MPPA which I think is inactive as of now (last update was December of last year) and that bums me out.
If you peruse the site (and I often do just to see what I haven't checked out yet), you'll find some quick band bios, a few cool interviews but my favorite part is the sizable amount of tracks by bands well known, semi-obscure and beyond that you can listen to directly or cop a download of. I had a hard time coming up with JUST five songs I adore from that the site introduced me to (a couple were even on my ill fated wedding playlist) so I have a feeling this is going to be the first in a series of the Friday Five chronicling the archive's awesomeness. Alright, enough of my blabbering, let's get down to brass tacks, kiddos.
Jilted John - I was a Teenage Prepubescent from the album True Love Stories (Castle Music Ltd.)
Jilted John was the alter ego of a British soap actor named Graham Fellows who thought it would be a good idea to do a jokey/novelty 7" when the whole punk rock thing was exploding across the U.K.. The A side concerns his break up with a girl named Julie because she dug a guy named Gordon better and then proceeding to bitch about it in the most petulant fashion for the songs duration until it fades out in a torrent of vicious insults directed at both parties but mainly, Julie. It was a hit and Fellows found himself appearing in character on shows like Top of the Pops and eventually recording an album, that as best as I can tell, was poorly received. I can't fathom that listening to this record. Sure, it's not as strong as say, anything the Boys put out, but it's solid and contains this fantastic track that is one of the most oddly warm and endearing songs to come out of that era.
The narrator grows up (from what it seems) poor with his two hardworking parents until Dad dies and then Mom runs off with another guy and he and his sisters get dumped off on his Grandmother. Pretty bleak shit for a power pop song right? Still, homeboy says he was happy even though they "didn't get much" and even meets a girl he fall in love with in primary school until she moves away and he goes to a state run high school (not too familiar with how shit works across the pond but based on the timeline of the song I think this is right) and then encounters the horrors of puberty that surround him at every corner. This is where the song takes a turn and the narrator becomes totally miserable and ends up rocking Doc Martens, jamming T. Rex and running around with his friends at night trying to get in rumbles with other kids. It's a great testament to the whimsy and care free days of early youth that we've all taken for granted at times in our lives. Laid down in front of a beautiful electric piano and quiet guitar except for the occasional power chord twang "I was a Prepubescent" will make you pine for the days before middle school shat on your face.
*Ed note: I upload this vid to YouTube and they told me some bullshit about it not being visible in certain areas...whatever the fuck that means. In case you can't view it, I dunno what to tell you, I couldn't find it anywhere online for you to check out for free. Just buy the fucking song, I promise, you won't regret it.
The Name - Fuck Art, Let's Dance from the album What's in a Name? (Detour Records)
Just listen to that punch in the balls/twat of an opening riff that was most likely stolen from the Clash. No matter. This, if my fuzzy unreliable memory serves me well, was the first song I check out on the MPPA and it blew me away. It was probably the title that did it. How can you pass anything like that up when you're a drugged out and drunk misanthropic punk rocker.I love the song makes you think the singer is all amped up and nervous to be with his girl/boy (hey, they never specify and since I already did the whole "balls/twat" thing I might as well keep it up), a bundle of romantic jitters but NO! He's totally fed up with the negative Nancy/Ned that has been keeping his ass bummed out at discos and gloomy museums when all he wants to do is go out and rock! Inverse that last sentence gender wise and replace discos with Emo's, the Big Easy, Fitzgerald's and punk shows and you have my failed, pathetic romantic history covering my early twenties. I used to really suck as a human being. I only marginally suck now.
Fast Cars - The Kids Just Wanna Dance from the album Coming...Ready or Not! (Detour Records)
If you've ever seen me DJ then you've heard this song, I think I used to lead off with it. Another Clash rip-off but for a one off band (the rest of this album isn't that good or at least didn't seem to be the last time I spun it) this is a pretty righteous single. And, we needed something that wouldn't devolve into me discussing my life's fuck ups, right? So, pump your fist to this one. Fast Cars seemed to perfect what would become early Oi! with this tune even though they seem waaaaaay too enthusiastic and happy on this track and album cover to ever carry the torch for that cranky genre. These guys were more enraptured in the mod scene but the energy of punk carried over heavily into what they were doing and especially on this track. Go to a Total Chaos or Casualties or any of those bands that define punk by the amount of bullet belts they have on or the quantity of Dippity Do jars they go through a year and put this record on and I guarantee you those kids will think it's some long lost Sham 69 track with better vocals and an infinitely greater hook.
The Barracudas - Surfers are Back from the album Drop Out with the Barracudas (EMI)
Even though the band seemed more melancholy on their collected tracks (reissued by EMI in 2005 as Drop Out with the Barracudas) these English cats were masters of imbibing the original Nuggets comp and then regurgitating it all in a glorious, care-free fashion. They have the same solid, staid production of many of their ilk during this kick in pop music. Instead of being entirely reverential like Stiv Bators was, these cats tried to do something a little more ambitious even though they were considered nothing more than a novelty surf act. Whatever you're interpretation of their history may be you have to dig how a British band could so lovingly copy and dwarf the American 60's surf pop phenomenon and punk it up to perfection.
Incredible Kidda Band - I'm Gonna Join the Army from the album Too Much, Too Little Too Late (Detour Records)
The first time I saw High Fidelity and it cut to that scene where all the record nerds are trying to bait Saturday browsers into buying vinyl and the bald skinny guy is jawing with the chick from Roseanne about Green Day and they're talking about the Clash and Stiff Little Fingers all I could think about was that the Incredible Kidda Band should've been included on that list. Because, if you go back and listen to the Lookout! era Green Day that's the band they rip off the most. Well, aside from the Clash.
and another one!
FUCK! I just realized another theme I could've wrapped this around!
Even though the band seemed more melancholy on their collected tracks (reissued by EMI in 2005 as Drop Out with the Barracudas) these English cats were masters of imbibing the original Nuggets comp and then regurgitating it all in a glorious, care-free fashion. They have the same solid, staid production of many of their ilk during this kick in pop music. Instead of being entirely reverential like Stiv Bators was, these cats tried to do something a little more ambitious even though they were considered nothing more than a novelty surf act. Whatever you're interpretation of their history may be you have to dig how a British band could so lovingly copy and dwarf the American 60's surf pop phenomenon and punk it up to perfection.
Incredible Kidda Band - I'm Gonna Join the Army from the album Too Much, Too Little Too Late (Detour Records)
The first time I saw High Fidelity and it cut to that scene where all the record nerds are trying to bait Saturday browsers into buying vinyl and the bald skinny guy is jawing with the chick from Roseanne about Green Day and they're talking about the Clash and Stiff Little Fingers all I could think about was that the Incredible Kidda Band should've been included on that list. Because, if you go back and listen to the Lookout! era Green Day that's the band they rip off the most. Well, aside from the Clash.
and another one!
FUCK! I just realized another theme I could've wrapped this around!
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Jay Debauchery's Top Ten Records of 2012
Another year, another slew of awesome music to dig into. Not gonna fuck around here just remember, folks, there is always rad music out there if you only have the desire to seek it out.
10. Masked Intruder - Masked Intruder (Red Scare/Fat Wreck Chords)
I'm a sucker for a good pop-punk record and I haven't fallen this head over heels in love with a band in the genre since the Unlovables or Teenage Bottlerocket. So, Masked Intruder has a gimmick of being four dudes in balaclavas (wonder how they feel about Pussy Riot publicizing and copping that look or maybe their next album will see them stalking the two members who remain in prison?) who dedicated an album to stalking, breaking in and...well, everything just short of raping the ladies they are psychotically in love with. Doesn't sound so cheery and poppy does it? Well, what works in the bands favor with their creeptastic schtick is that a. it is the logical conclusion of the "oh woe is me, can't the girl see I love her so intensely so she'll come running back into my savior like arms of trust and warmth because I couldn't possibly have ever been such a schizoid asshole to drive her away because she came to realize that she's dating a self-deprecating version of Marky Mark from the movie Fear" high school misunderstanding of love bullshit propagated by dudes in their mid-20's for most of the early 90's pop-punk scene (at least the songs dedicated to girls...I'm looking at you Chixdiggit!) and b. this album is like putting an amalgam of the Queers and the aforementioned Canadian Ramones-enthusiasts in the form of an earworm into your earhole. Imagine if Nerf Herder had written all their albums in the key of "Sorry" but waaaaaaaay poppier and you've got the right idea. This is a seriously infectious album that is almost impossible to get out of your head. I'm looking forward to what they come up with next but, y'know, at some point they're going to mine the whole gimmick into the ground and have to figure something else out. Unless, they wanna snag my aforementioned idea for an album about stalking and being in love with the ladies of Pussy Riot. I'd be into that.
I wanted to include a song that was more indicative of the album than my favorite from the record, which is this one.
9. Future of the Left - The Plot Against Common Sense (Extra Mile Recordings)
Yup, the band that supplied my favorite album of 2009, the amazing Travels with Myself and Another, is back on the list again with their follow up to that modern classic. I realize the band might very well never top that record but that certainly doesn't mean they've run out of gas. The Plot Against Common Sense contains all the acerbic wit, middle finger raising and righteous shit-talking you would expect from a band featuring Andy "Falco" Falkous of the legendary Mclusky. It isn't nearly as musically abrasive as the last album but is way more vitriolic lyrically and I think that combination work brilliantly for the bed. The most ear-splitting aggressive song on the album ("Robocop 4 - Fuck Off Robocop") cannot compare to the pure disgust and hatred poured into the lyrics of something like "Sorry Dad, I was Late for the Riots." Oh, and let's not forget that Falco totally FUCKING NUKED the assholes at Pitchfork over their shitty review of the album which includes this Pulitzer-worthy line, "As for the cover, well, there's a penguin on it you stupid cunt."
8. Dan Sartain - Too Tough to Live (One Little Indian)
Dan Sartain usually works in in rockabilly (albeit in the same weird, sketchy schism also populated by the Reverend Beat Man and for some reason has described himself as the "poor man's Chris Isaak) but for his latest, and by far my favorite of his, record he has gone into full-blown Ramones overdose mode and it's glorious. Still lo-fi and still ripping off the album names of classic punk records when he feels the need, the scrawniest, strongest jawed motherfucker to probably ever come out of Alabama totally blew me away the first time I put this record on. He is the man who wrote one of my favorite songs of the previous decade, after all but I didn't expect anything this straight-forward, floor stomping and so woefully short. Sometimes, the "Keep It Simple Stupid" axiom for rock 'n' roll is best followed and this album is a perfect fucking example of it.
7. Cudzoo and the Faggettes - Daddy Issues (DrugFrontRecords)
Total late in the year listen/dark horse that hasn't left my stereo since I first heard the title track on Bubblefum Fuzz. Just gonna re-post what I put up on the first edition of The Friday Five:
Let's move onto the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Cudzoo and Faggettes have released two albums of gleefully offensive, utterly tactless and absolutely fanfuckingtastic barrages of punked up, glammed out, girl group styled comedic sleaze. That's a compliment. Think Shannon and the Clams with better production values and a meaner sense of humor. These ladies better be featured in the next Jon Water's movie or else that man has really lost his taste for trash culture. I get a lot of personal feelings that come up when I listen to this album (well, mainly the track "You Taste Like Intervention" which could've been the soundtrack to my entire 20's and especially the most fucked up, abusive, self-destructive and soul crushing relationship I've ever been in that almost closed those years out and if a song can make me laugh about that horror it's got to be great) but mainly what sticks with me most is the type of self-deprecating feminist humor that would make the readership of Jezebel lose their collective hive-minds. "Daddy Issues" aside, there is a fucking song on here called "Roofies" which treats that malady as a positive! Here's how the song ends, with a nice soliloquy, post roofie rape: "I love you soooo much, I'm gonna get your dried up umbilical chord nub, stick it in my vagina, incubate it for nine loooong months, birth it, raise it for 18 years, then fuck the SHIT out of you again!" Heartwarming.
6. Ty Segall - Twins (Drag City)
Dude released three KICK-ASS albums this year and doesn't show any signs of letting up. Before I begin my rhapsody over his motherfucking stellar 2012 output watch this guy SLAY on his first late night TV performance.
First there was the collaboration with White Fence (aka Tim Presley) called Hair, that was like a cohesive Thee Oh Sees record but made more commercially appreciable and appealing. It's a great collaboration that I got to witness live when I caught Ty and Tim at Walter's a few months ago. Then came Slaughterhouse, released under the new name the Ty Segall Band that was just a monster of noise and distortion. It's fantastic. I got to fully dive into the album when I was taken from my old job in inventory and required to schlep heavy ass carts of pissed sheets and other various forms of dirty linen to and fro which gave me plenty of time to hit the repeat button on my iPhone. And if something can really smack me in the face more than the foul stench of a dying cancer patients rancid feces left to fester by a shift of nurses who don't think it's their burden to deal with, then that's something impressive. But his real triumph this year, and the last record he released, was called Twins and easily features the absolute best song Segall has written in his prolific career (placed below). It might be the main reason I rank it over Slaughterhouse. This came in second to my eventual pick for "Song of the Year." (Court picked it as her Numero Uno, if that says anything about my wife). Ty Segall and his cult of fans are growing larger by the day. That's a good thing. Awesome music shouldn't be reserved for the Cool Kids Club but instead shared by everyone and if Ty Segall and his success is any indication then hopefully mainstream media and music writers will be forced to throw more praise on this unique and incredibly gifted garage punk master and his peers.
Part two will be up hopefully by the weekend, folks. Now back to making sure my wife gets over the cold she caught in New Orleans. Top five is next along with 7", live show, local record and more!
10. Masked Intruder - Masked Intruder (Red Scare/Fat Wreck Chords)
I'm a sucker for a good pop-punk record and I haven't fallen this head over heels in love with a band in the genre since the Unlovables or Teenage Bottlerocket. So, Masked Intruder has a gimmick of being four dudes in balaclavas (wonder how they feel about Pussy Riot publicizing and copping that look or maybe their next album will see them stalking the two members who remain in prison?) who dedicated an album to stalking, breaking in and...well, everything just short of raping the ladies they are psychotically in love with. Doesn't sound so cheery and poppy does it? Well, what works in the bands favor with their creeptastic schtick is that a. it is the logical conclusion of the "oh woe is me, can't the girl see I love her so intensely so she'll come running back into my savior like arms of trust and warmth because I couldn't possibly have ever been such a schizoid asshole to drive her away because she came to realize that she's dating a self-deprecating version of Marky Mark from the movie Fear" high school misunderstanding of love bullshit propagated by dudes in their mid-20's for most of the early 90's pop-punk scene (at least the songs dedicated to girls...I'm looking at you Chixdiggit!) and b. this album is like putting an amalgam of the Queers and the aforementioned Canadian Ramones-enthusiasts in the form of an earworm into your earhole. Imagine if Nerf Herder had written all their albums in the key of "Sorry" but waaaaaaaay poppier and you've got the right idea. This is a seriously infectious album that is almost impossible to get out of your head. I'm looking forward to what they come up with next but, y'know, at some point they're going to mine the whole gimmick into the ground and have to figure something else out. Unless, they wanna snag my aforementioned idea for an album about stalking and being in love with the ladies of Pussy Riot. I'd be into that.
I wanted to include a song that was more indicative of the album than my favorite from the record, which is this one.
9. Future of the Left - The Plot Against Common Sense (Extra Mile Recordings)
Yup, the band that supplied my favorite album of 2009, the amazing Travels with Myself and Another, is back on the list again with their follow up to that modern classic. I realize the band might very well never top that record but that certainly doesn't mean they've run out of gas. The Plot Against Common Sense contains all the acerbic wit, middle finger raising and righteous shit-talking you would expect from a band featuring Andy "Falco" Falkous of the legendary Mclusky. It isn't nearly as musically abrasive as the last album but is way more vitriolic lyrically and I think that combination work brilliantly for the bed. The most ear-splitting aggressive song on the album ("Robocop 4 - Fuck Off Robocop") cannot compare to the pure disgust and hatred poured into the lyrics of something like "Sorry Dad, I was Late for the Riots." Oh, and let's not forget that Falco totally FUCKING NUKED the assholes at Pitchfork over their shitty review of the album which includes this Pulitzer-worthy line, "As for the cover, well, there's a penguin on it you stupid cunt."
8. Dan Sartain - Too Tough to Live (One Little Indian)
Dan Sartain usually works in in rockabilly (albeit in the same weird, sketchy schism also populated by the Reverend Beat Man and for some reason has described himself as the "poor man's Chris Isaak) but for his latest, and by far my favorite of his, record he has gone into full-blown Ramones overdose mode and it's glorious. Still lo-fi and still ripping off the album names of classic punk records when he feels the need, the scrawniest, strongest jawed motherfucker to probably ever come out of Alabama totally blew me away the first time I put this record on. He is the man who wrote one of my favorite songs of the previous decade, after all but I didn't expect anything this straight-forward, floor stomping and so woefully short. Sometimes, the "Keep It Simple Stupid" axiom for rock 'n' roll is best followed and this album is a perfect fucking example of it.
7. Cudzoo and the Faggettes - Daddy Issues (DrugFrontRecords)
Total late in the year listen/dark horse that hasn't left my stereo since I first heard the title track on Bubblefum Fuzz. Just gonna re-post what I put up on the first edition of The Friday Five:
Let's move onto the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Cudzoo and Faggettes have released two albums of gleefully offensive, utterly tactless and absolutely fanfuckingtastic barrages of punked up, glammed out, girl group styled comedic sleaze. That's a compliment. Think Shannon and the Clams with better production values and a meaner sense of humor. These ladies better be featured in the next Jon Water's movie or else that man has really lost his taste for trash culture. I get a lot of personal feelings that come up when I listen to this album (well, mainly the track "You Taste Like Intervention" which could've been the soundtrack to my entire 20's and especially the most fucked up, abusive, self-destructive and soul crushing relationship I've ever been in that almost closed those years out and if a song can make me laugh about that horror it's got to be great) but mainly what sticks with me most is the type of self-deprecating feminist humor that would make the readership of Jezebel lose their collective hive-minds. "Daddy Issues" aside, there is a fucking song on here called "Roofies" which treats that malady as a positive! Here's how the song ends, with a nice soliloquy, post roofie rape: "I love you soooo much, I'm gonna get your dried up umbilical chord nub, stick it in my vagina, incubate it for nine loooong months, birth it, raise it for 18 years, then fuck the SHIT out of you again!" Heartwarming.
6. Ty Segall - Twins (Drag City)
Dude released three KICK-ASS albums this year and doesn't show any signs of letting up. Before I begin my rhapsody over his motherfucking stellar 2012 output watch this guy SLAY on his first late night TV performance.
First there was the collaboration with White Fence (aka Tim Presley) called Hair, that was like a cohesive Thee Oh Sees record but made more commercially appreciable and appealing. It's a great collaboration that I got to witness live when I caught Ty and Tim at Walter's a few months ago. Then came Slaughterhouse, released under the new name the Ty Segall Band that was just a monster of noise and distortion. It's fantastic. I got to fully dive into the album when I was taken from my old job in inventory and required to schlep heavy ass carts of pissed sheets and other various forms of dirty linen to and fro which gave me plenty of time to hit the repeat button on my iPhone. And if something can really smack me in the face more than the foul stench of a dying cancer patients rancid feces left to fester by a shift of nurses who don't think it's their burden to deal with, then that's something impressive. But his real triumph this year, and the last record he released, was called Twins and easily features the absolute best song Segall has written in his prolific career (placed below). It might be the main reason I rank it over Slaughterhouse. This came in second to my eventual pick for "Song of the Year." (Court picked it as her Numero Uno, if that says anything about my wife). Ty Segall and his cult of fans are growing larger by the day. That's a good thing. Awesome music shouldn't be reserved for the Cool Kids Club but instead shared by everyone and if Ty Segall and his success is any indication then hopefully mainstream media and music writers will be forced to throw more praise on this unique and incredibly gifted garage punk master and his peers.
Part two will be up hopefully by the weekend, folks. Now back to making sure my wife gets over the cold she caught in New Orleans. Top five is next along with 7", live show, local record and more!
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
The Friday Five, Volume 2: For Mimi
So, it's been almost a year since my beloved Grandmother (nicknamed Mimi) has shuffled loose this mortal coil and I'm pretty alright with it. I mean, I miss her dearly but the last few years of her life I was really hoping she'd just die in her sleep because she was a shadow of the woman I grew up revering. I remember when I got the news. I was at work and around 9 am my Ma called me and before I even answered I knew what she was going to tell me. I told her to just get it over with and stormed off to the toilet to sob tears of joy. My Mimi was finally free of the intense pain and You see, when I found out Mimi was about to shove off the first time Mrs. Debauchery and I were at Rudz and I knew it was the end for her. I pulled off the side of Heights Blvd. and cried so hard I thought my head would explode. That's how much this woman meant to me.
She grew up poor as shit, picking cotton in her early teens, and then married a man named John who was (also 20 years older) probably the hardest son of a bitch anyone would ever meet. My Dad might be intimidating because of his size and vocal tone and general demeanor but PaPaw was the real deal. I remember either my Ma or Mimi telling me a story about how PaPaw's crew at work on an oil rig were fucking up and he called them out on it and they tried to kick the shit out of him but he laid most of them out before they could do any real damage. He woke up bloodied but from what I've been told, he won. I'm fucking proud to be from this family and it's from my grandparents on my Ma's side (I'm sure she regrets this) where I get my attitude.
But back to my Mimi. You couldn't have wished for a better grandmother, especially if you're me. A weird, scrawny spazz who at the turn of puberty hated the sun and just wanted to stay in his room and read and listen to aggressive and violent music. Still. she supported me in everything I have dedicated my life to and in the most enthusiastic manner possible: punk rock, skateboarding, horror movies, writing, debate in high school instead of sports.You don't generally see a woman from the old South that is a hardcore baptist embrace her grandson's open rebellion against everything she adored. But she loved me anyway and if I could pull some Herbert West shit and reanimate her corpse she would tell you today that she is proud of me and is proud that her grandson is a punk rocker for life. I miss you Mimi and I hope I'm still making you happy. I am truly honored that my wife is sporting your engagement and wedding rings on her finger.
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House - Fuck Fred Phelps and the Westbero Baptist Church Alright, so Mimi was a hardcore Baptist and even though I never told her, partially because my Ma forbid me, she pretty much knew I was an Atheist. And the only reason I bring this is up is to qualify my criticism of most Christians. Mimi was the most open, tolerant, loving and accepting human being I've ever come across and that's where I judge (not a Christian so I can do that!) hypocritical pieces of shit like Bill O'Reily...fuck it all of Fox News, Bill Donahue (I believe my wife's Irish Catholic family would love to punch him in the balls), and especially Fred Phelps. That said, Mimi (who, despite showing me anti-gay propaganda when I was about ten (obviously it didn't take hold) regarding golden showers...yeah that happened) grew way more progressive over her life.When she met the Dead Kennedy, my (gay) brother, and heard what his parents put him through she embraced him immediately. She also used to watch shitty slasher flicks with me when I stayed with her during summers that were on USA's Up All Night. I think she figured they were morality parables that should've scared me straight. Anyhoo, if she had been cognizant about the Westbero Baptist Church I guarantee you she would've had me drive her down to one of their protests so she could tell them off. Mind you, she wouldn't like the language but she would sure as shit love the sentiment! I told my Ma I was gonna lead this column off with this song and she smiled.
The Humpers- Plastique Valentine
When I was 15 my parents bailed to NOLA for a weekend and Mimi came down to stay with me. I'd just gotten Plastique Valentine on cassette after reading about the band in Thrasher so I was super stoked to get to go to a show at Emo's (RIP) that my parents would NEVER let me go to. My friend and I showed up around 8 (we were used to all ages shows at Fitzgerald's) and proceeded to get drunk as shit courtesy of the Humpers because we were the only one's there that early and obviously looked like easily corruptible teens. I remember at one point the bar refused to give the band anymore beer and Billy marched down to the corner store, copped a case of Shiner and when he was told he couldn't bring it in the bar said, "FUCK YOU! IF WE CAN'T KEEP DRINKING WE'RE NOT PLAYING!" They let him in, the show was amazing and the Humpers wrote me a note to give to my Mimi apologizing for keeping me out so late. She read it, saw how buzzed I was on beer, laughed and said, "Now, go to bed!"
Hank Williams - I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry
Probably the only song on this list she would've really dug. Aside from the personal attachment to my grandmother over this song (she was a huge Hank Williams fan) this reminds me of being in my early 20's, drinking a bottle of whiskey a night and passing out on the couch, because I was so depressed, when GRRR was a puppy. And then when I'd drag my ragged ass off the couch in the morning with this tune stuck in my head, all I could think was, "Mimi would kick the shit outta me if she ever saw me like this!"
ALL - Breaking Up
When I was, like 14, some guy at the Pizza Hut in our neighborhood gave me a backpack full of tapes (Madness, Subhumans, Descendents, 7 Seconds, the Freeze...huuuuge influence on me) cause I wore a 30footFALL t-shirt into the store when I went and picked up our pie. Fast forward to when I was 16 and just broke up with a girl, ironically, who was also nicknamed Jay (let's not delve into the Freudian-fuckedupness of that), and man, I was devastated. Just a total wreck. So, I had to drive up to Beaumont to pick up Mimi for the holidays and just could not stop listening to this album, especially "Breaking Up." I hit that reverse button on my car's tape deck like fifty billion times throughout that trip. During that, Mimi could tell something was wrong and finally blurted out some curt advice once I told her what was making me such a mopey bastard, "Honey, she don't deserve you. Just get over it."
The Ramones - Clip from Rock 'N' Roll High School
Mimi's favorite memory of me was of us eating pizza from Domino's (hey, I didn't know that asshole CEO supported Operation Rescue when I was a kid) and grease just running down our arms. She always brought it up and it's a nice ending to this column because the last time I ate pizza with her was while watching Rock 'N' Roll High School, when I was in high school. Gabba gabba hey, Mimi. I'm sure you've already told Joey how much I adore him.
She grew up poor as shit, picking cotton in her early teens, and then married a man named John who was (also 20 years older) probably the hardest son of a bitch anyone would ever meet. My Dad might be intimidating because of his size and vocal tone and general demeanor but PaPaw was the real deal. I remember either my Ma or Mimi telling me a story about how PaPaw's crew at work on an oil rig were fucking up and he called them out on it and they tried to kick the shit out of him but he laid most of them out before they could do any real damage. He woke up bloodied but from what I've been told, he won. I'm fucking proud to be from this family and it's from my grandparents on my Ma's side (I'm sure she regrets this) where I get my attitude.
But back to my Mimi. You couldn't have wished for a better grandmother, especially if you're me. A weird, scrawny spazz who at the turn of puberty hated the sun and just wanted to stay in his room and read and listen to aggressive and violent music. Still. she supported me in everything I have dedicated my life to and in the most enthusiastic manner possible: punk rock, skateboarding, horror movies, writing, debate in high school instead of sports.You don't generally see a woman from the old South that is a hardcore baptist embrace her grandson's open rebellion against everything she adored. But she loved me anyway and if I could pull some Herbert West shit and reanimate her corpse she would tell you today that she is proud of me and is proud that her grandson is a punk rocker for life. I miss you Mimi and I hope I'm still making you happy. I am truly honored that my wife is sporting your engagement and wedding rings on her finger.
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House - Fuck Fred Phelps and the Westbero Baptist Church Alright, so Mimi was a hardcore Baptist and even though I never told her, partially because my Ma forbid me, she pretty much knew I was an Atheist. And the only reason I bring this is up is to qualify my criticism of most Christians. Mimi was the most open, tolerant, loving and accepting human being I've ever come across and that's where I judge (not a Christian so I can do that!) hypocritical pieces of shit like Bill O'Reily...fuck it all of Fox News, Bill Donahue (I believe my wife's Irish Catholic family would love to punch him in the balls), and especially Fred Phelps. That said, Mimi (who, despite showing me anti-gay propaganda when I was about ten (obviously it didn't take hold) regarding golden showers...yeah that happened) grew way more progressive over her life.When she met the Dead Kennedy, my (gay) brother, and heard what his parents put him through she embraced him immediately. She also used to watch shitty slasher flicks with me when I stayed with her during summers that were on USA's Up All Night. I think she figured they were morality parables that should've scared me straight. Anyhoo, if she had been cognizant about the Westbero Baptist Church I guarantee you she would've had me drive her down to one of their protests so she could tell them off. Mind you, she wouldn't like the language but she would sure as shit love the sentiment! I told my Ma I was gonna lead this column off with this song and she smiled.
The Humpers- Plastique Valentine
When I was 15 my parents bailed to NOLA for a weekend and Mimi came down to stay with me. I'd just gotten Plastique Valentine on cassette after reading about the band in Thrasher so I was super stoked to get to go to a show at Emo's (RIP) that my parents would NEVER let me go to. My friend and I showed up around 8 (we were used to all ages shows at Fitzgerald's) and proceeded to get drunk as shit courtesy of the Humpers because we were the only one's there that early and obviously looked like easily corruptible teens. I remember at one point the bar refused to give the band anymore beer and Billy marched down to the corner store, copped a case of Shiner and when he was told he couldn't bring it in the bar said, "FUCK YOU! IF WE CAN'T KEEP DRINKING WE'RE NOT PLAYING!" They let him in, the show was amazing and the Humpers wrote me a note to give to my Mimi apologizing for keeping me out so late. She read it, saw how buzzed I was on beer, laughed and said, "Now, go to bed!"
Hank Williams - I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry
Probably the only song on this list she would've really dug. Aside from the personal attachment to my grandmother over this song (she was a huge Hank Williams fan) this reminds me of being in my early 20's, drinking a bottle of whiskey a night and passing out on the couch, because I was so depressed, when GRRR was a puppy. And then when I'd drag my ragged ass off the couch in the morning with this tune stuck in my head, all I could think was, "Mimi would kick the shit outta me if she ever saw me like this!"
ALL - Breaking Up
When I was, like 14, some guy at the Pizza Hut in our neighborhood gave me a backpack full of tapes (Madness, Subhumans, Descendents, 7 Seconds, the Freeze...huuuuge influence on me) cause I wore a 30footFALL t-shirt into the store when I went and picked up our pie. Fast forward to when I was 16 and just broke up with a girl, ironically, who was also nicknamed Jay (let's not delve into the Freudian-fuckedupness of that), and man, I was devastated. Just a total wreck. So, I had to drive up to Beaumont to pick up Mimi for the holidays and just could not stop listening to this album, especially "Breaking Up." I hit that reverse button on my car's tape deck like fifty billion times throughout that trip. During that, Mimi could tell something was wrong and finally blurted out some curt advice once I told her what was making me such a mopey bastard, "Honey, she don't deserve you. Just get over it."
The Ramones - Clip from Rock 'N' Roll High School
Mimi's favorite memory of me was of us eating pizza from Domino's (hey, I didn't know that asshole CEO supported Operation Rescue when I was a kid) and grease just running down our arms. She always brought it up and it's a nice ending to this column because the last time I ate pizza with her was while watching Rock 'N' Roll High School, when I was in high school. Gabba gabba hey, Mimi. I'm sure you've already told Joey how much I adore him.
Friday, December 21, 2012
The Friday Five Volume 1: Girls Get Busy
Welcome to the first edition of the Friday Five. Here, I'll give you five songs every week that have been stuck in my noggin', for the most part, centered around a theme. Sometimes I might just pull five tunes outta my ass that I think rock. Or something that triggered on my iPod or iTunes or that I pulled out of my vinyl collection that really took a hold of my nards and didn't let go. I haven't really decided yet, though, I do have the first few mapped out. So, here we go.
I love my new job. I'm still working at the hospital but instead of having to deal with bitchy nurses nagging me for things they (rightfully, though not of my fault) should've already gotten I now work in receiving and after two weeks training at the main building I got moved to a cushy new offsite that affords me plentiful time to listen to music podcasts almost non-stop. I still dig on my favorite newscasts to start my morning (Democracy Now!, Best of the Left, etc.) but once my triple shot of espresso kicks in I'm in full on rock 'n' roll mode.
My favorites are everything that is broadcast on the Garage Punk Pirate Radio Network, Rev. Norb's AMAZING Bubblegum Fuzz and the Razorcake Podcast and it's because they remind me of just how much music that is out there, whether new or vintage, that I haven't even discovered yet. I'm a 32 punk rock kid who has swallowed oceans of music thanks to many friends and an insatiable curiosity and love for my beloved subculture and all of it's offshoots and even though I'm long in the tooth (in punk years at least) I still love being turned onto glorious new music like when I was a kid and my sisters older friends and my waaay older friends made me mixtapes.
We live in an awesome new world for music lovers where anyone with a computer can rip their vinyl, CD or cassette collection and turn a whole new generation into rabid fanatics of some band that only released one 7" in the 70's that didn't even make it onto a Killed by Death comp or remind them of groups who were waaaaay beyond what their pop star sheen made them out to be (Rev. Norb hipped me to a particularly skeezy Davy Jones track that makes me question just how wholesome some of those Monkees records are). Punk rock, rock 'n' roll...all that jazz is built on tradition just like folk music. And part of maintaining that is the ability to share gems from past eras other's might not think to glance at. So that's where this column is coming from. I love sharing music with my friends (and whoever the fuck else might read this blog) and rather than bomb your Facebook walls with shit I'm currently digging I figured I'd force myself to pick five stellar tracks that have been in my head all week to hopefully groove into your senses. This week's theme is focusing on girl groups or girl fronted groups because...well, out of everything my brain gorged on this week all of the standout tunes featured female singers.
The God Damn Doo Wop Band - "I'll Always Be Your Girl" (from the same named 7" I couldn't find the name of the label it was released on so hit me up and I'll amend this)
First off, ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING involving a member of the Soviettes warrants at least like, three consecutive spins. That member in this case would be Annie (who is also in the great, fuzzed out bass/drum duo Awesome Snakes) and sweet titty fucking christ does this single fucking slay! Quick background on me: I was raised on AM radio by my parents and fortunately that was a time when the programmers weren't just pumping out Beatles song after Beatles song but would play pre-Pet Sounds era Beach Boys (nothing against Pet Sounds, just saying) and LOOOOAAADS of Phil Spector produced girl groups. I worship the Ronettes, Shangri-Las, et. all so when I get presented with a song with such low key, minimalist production (as opposed to the Pippettes', whom I still enjoy, faux-wall of computer bullshit) that just let's the vocals speak for themselves I know the people behind it knew what the fuck they were doing. I mean, the lyrical punch behind all of those great songs ("When I Saw You" "He Hit Me and it Felt like a Kiss" "Dressed in Black") and therefore, the emotional efficacy of the tune, doesn't get driven home if it isn't the singer that is doing the heavy lifting. That said, I was FLOORED when this first creeped through my headphones on the loading dock. I stopped what I was doing and went back a few times to repeat the track. Then I went home and played it a shitload more. THIS is fucking fantastic pop music that is exhilarating and heartbreaking at the same time. Isn't that what we all really want from our favorite musical lamentations on love?
Cudzoo and the Faggettes - "Daddy Issues" (Daddy Issues, Drug Front Records)
Let's move onto the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Cudzoo and Faggettes have released two albums of gleefully offensive, utterly tactless and absolutely fanfuckingtastic barrages of punked up, glammed out, girl group styled comedic sleaze. That's a compliment. Think Shannon and the Clams with better production values and a meaner sense of humor. These ladies better be featured in the next Jon Water's movie or else that man has really lost his taste for trash culture. I get a lot of personal feelings that come up when I listen to this album (well, mainly the track "You Taste Like Intervention" which could've been the soundtrack to my entire 20's and especially the most fucked up, abusive, self-destructive and soul crushing relationship I've ever been in that almost closed those years out and if a song can make me laugh about that horror it's got to be great) but mainly what sticks with me most is the type of self-deprecating feminist humor that would make the readership of Jezebel lose their collective hive-minds. "Daddy Issues" aside, there is a fucking song on here called "Roofies" which treats that malady as a positive! Here's how the song ends, with a nice soliloquy, post roofie rape: "I love you soooo much, I'm gonna get your dried up umbilical chord nub, stick it in my vagina, incubate it for nine loooong months, birth it, raise it for 18 years, then fuck the SHIT out of you again!" Heartwarming.
Porcharitas - Get Wasted (Get Wasted with the Porcharitas 7" Vertical House Records)
I have long ragged on Alabama as being the shittiest fucking state in this quickly fading republic known as these United States of America (Florida, for all it's warts at least produces good punk bands). And for good reason! When I was 17 I went on a road trip with my debate team (dork, I know) to compete in some prestigious tournament and when we rolled into the state looking for a place to eat, all us kids piled out the vans. Including two black ones. We were met outside by the, I guess, proprietors...protectors...assholes of the establishment and told, curtly, to the fuck back off in our van and keep driving. I'm a Texan by the way so you know it takes something epic and awful like to make me feel like I have the right to shit on your state (Vidor, where?). Anyhoo, these are 3 ladies and one gent from that state who have churned out one kick ass garage punk rager. I'm eagerly waiting on getting my copy of this 7" in the mail (Mrs. Debauchery said she ordered it and if not I will be scouring all of New Orleans for it, along with Normals records come Thursday) because there are only so many times I can repeat this record on bandcamp. I love the scuzzed out vocals, guitars that sound like they were recorded in a trashcan, non-existent bass and waaaaay low on the sound scale Casio keyboards. A prime example of modern, snarky garage punk done absolutely perfect. It makes me wanna take out everything bad I've ever said about the state of Alabama.
The Sugar Stems - "Greatest Pretender" (Greatest Pretender 7" Certified PR Records)
Just the other day I was wondering just what in the mother FUCK happened to the Leg Hounds. You remember them right? Those Devil Dogs lovin' Midwestern righteous motherfuckers? Well it turns out that Drew Fredrichsen, after churning out some killer music with the Jetty Boys has moved onto to some great bubblegum pop with the Sugar Stems. Just the other day I was wondering just what in the fucking hell happened to the Leg Hounds. Their first album was totally killer but this single blew the official Cancer Hospital baseball cap that I am forced to wear to work everyday off my head. If this is what the modern incantation of power-pop is going to sound like then I will have a full on priapism ready to balance all of of the (hopefully) forthcoming masterpieces that will be rolling out from these cats any minute now (they do have a new album coming out next year). A fucking exquisite pop song no matter what genre you or I feel the need to put it in.
The Okmoniks - I'm Done (Party Fever! Slovenly Recordings)
So, here comes the oldie (or at least in the parlance of this current generation because this record was released in, I think 2006-7? It was in the heyday of PKY being print is all I remember) and it should count as a modern garage punk classic. For those not in the know, Justin Champlin (aka Nobunny) came to prominence with this band along with the Sneaky Pinks and by golly, if I'm not a total sucker for 60's style garage rock that's sped up and complete with a solid use of organs and female vox. Just listen to the bridge! It's frantic, desperate and underlays the songs epic angst. Homegirl wants to bail and forget this guy as soon as she can. There's a great band from Denver called the Manxx my friend Justin knows that seems to be carrying on the torch for these cats and once I cop some physical music I will let you know just how enraptured I am with them. Still, as much as I dug that song I can't even remember the name of it's going to be hard to top the pop wizardry the Okmoniks were able to create during their oh so brief and oh too short career. At least Nobunny still performs "Not That Good" and my wife will still be able to shake her amazing Irish ass all over the dance floor when that occurs.
And since I ended on a Nobunny note, once again, and one of the greatest memories of my life, here is the first show my wife and I attended together and here first REAL exposure to punk rock.
Til next week brothers and sisters,
Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll Motherfuckers
Jay Debauchery.
I love my new job. I'm still working at the hospital but instead of having to deal with bitchy nurses nagging me for things they (rightfully, though not of my fault) should've already gotten I now work in receiving and after two weeks training at the main building I got moved to a cushy new offsite that affords me plentiful time to listen to music podcasts almost non-stop. I still dig on my favorite newscasts to start my morning (Democracy Now!, Best of the Left, etc.) but once my triple shot of espresso kicks in I'm in full on rock 'n' roll mode.
My favorites are everything that is broadcast on the Garage Punk Pirate Radio Network, Rev. Norb's AMAZING Bubblegum Fuzz and the Razorcake Podcast and it's because they remind me of just how much music that is out there, whether new or vintage, that I haven't even discovered yet. I'm a 32 punk rock kid who has swallowed oceans of music thanks to many friends and an insatiable curiosity and love for my beloved subculture and all of it's offshoots and even though I'm long in the tooth (in punk years at least) I still love being turned onto glorious new music like when I was a kid and my sisters older friends and my waaay older friends made me mixtapes.
We live in an awesome new world for music lovers where anyone with a computer can rip their vinyl, CD or cassette collection and turn a whole new generation into rabid fanatics of some band that only released one 7" in the 70's that didn't even make it onto a Killed by Death comp or remind them of groups who were waaaaay beyond what their pop star sheen made them out to be (Rev. Norb hipped me to a particularly skeezy Davy Jones track that makes me question just how wholesome some of those Monkees records are). Punk rock, rock 'n' roll...all that jazz is built on tradition just like folk music. And part of maintaining that is the ability to share gems from past eras other's might not think to glance at. So that's where this column is coming from. I love sharing music with my friends (and whoever the fuck else might read this blog) and rather than bomb your Facebook walls with shit I'm currently digging I figured I'd force myself to pick five stellar tracks that have been in my head all week to hopefully groove into your senses. This week's theme is focusing on girl groups or girl fronted groups because...well, out of everything my brain gorged on this week all of the standout tunes featured female singers.
The God Damn Doo Wop Band - "I'll Always Be Your Girl" (from the same named 7" I couldn't find the name of the label it was released on so hit me up and I'll amend this)
First off, ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING involving a member of the Soviettes warrants at least like, three consecutive spins. That member in this case would be Annie (who is also in the great, fuzzed out bass/drum duo Awesome Snakes) and sweet titty fucking christ does this single fucking slay! Quick background on me: I was raised on AM radio by my parents and fortunately that was a time when the programmers weren't just pumping out Beatles song after Beatles song but would play pre-Pet Sounds era Beach Boys (nothing against Pet Sounds, just saying) and LOOOOAAADS of Phil Spector produced girl groups. I worship the Ronettes, Shangri-Las, et. all so when I get presented with a song with such low key, minimalist production (as opposed to the Pippettes', whom I still enjoy, faux-wall of computer bullshit) that just let's the vocals speak for themselves I know the people behind it knew what the fuck they were doing. I mean, the lyrical punch behind all of those great songs ("When I Saw You" "He Hit Me and it Felt like a Kiss" "Dressed in Black") and therefore, the emotional efficacy of the tune, doesn't get driven home if it isn't the singer that is doing the heavy lifting. That said, I was FLOORED when this first creeped through my headphones on the loading dock. I stopped what I was doing and went back a few times to repeat the track. Then I went home and played it a shitload more. THIS is fucking fantastic pop music that is exhilarating and heartbreaking at the same time. Isn't that what we all really want from our favorite musical lamentations on love?
Cudzoo and the Faggettes - "Daddy Issues" (Daddy Issues, Drug Front Records)
Let's move onto the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Cudzoo and Faggettes have released two albums of gleefully offensive, utterly tactless and absolutely fanfuckingtastic barrages of punked up, glammed out, girl group styled comedic sleaze. That's a compliment. Think Shannon and the Clams with better production values and a meaner sense of humor. These ladies better be featured in the next Jon Water's movie or else that man has really lost his taste for trash culture. I get a lot of personal feelings that come up when I listen to this album (well, mainly the track "You Taste Like Intervention" which could've been the soundtrack to my entire 20's and especially the most fucked up, abusive, self-destructive and soul crushing relationship I've ever been in that almost closed those years out and if a song can make me laugh about that horror it's got to be great) but mainly what sticks with me most is the type of self-deprecating feminist humor that would make the readership of Jezebel lose their collective hive-minds. "Daddy Issues" aside, there is a fucking song on here called "Roofies" which treats that malady as a positive! Here's how the song ends, with a nice soliloquy, post roofie rape: "I love you soooo much, I'm gonna get your dried up umbilical chord nub, stick it in my vagina, incubate it for nine loooong months, birth it, raise it for 18 years, then fuck the SHIT out of you again!" Heartwarming.
Porcharitas - Get Wasted (Get Wasted with the Porcharitas 7" Vertical House Records)
I have long ragged on Alabama as being the shittiest fucking state in this quickly fading republic known as these United States of America (Florida, for all it's warts at least produces good punk bands). And for good reason! When I was 17 I went on a road trip with my debate team (dork, I know) to compete in some prestigious tournament and when we rolled into the state looking for a place to eat, all us kids piled out the vans. Including two black ones. We were met outside by the, I guess, proprietors...protectors...assholes of the establishment and told, curtly, to the fuck back off in our van and keep driving. I'm a Texan by the way so you know it takes something epic and awful like to make me feel like I have the right to shit on your state (Vidor, where?). Anyhoo, these are 3 ladies and one gent from that state who have churned out one kick ass garage punk rager. I'm eagerly waiting on getting my copy of this 7" in the mail (Mrs. Debauchery said she ordered it and if not I will be scouring all of New Orleans for it, along with Normals records come Thursday) because there are only so many times I can repeat this record on bandcamp. I love the scuzzed out vocals, guitars that sound like they were recorded in a trashcan, non-existent bass and waaaaay low on the sound scale Casio keyboards. A prime example of modern, snarky garage punk done absolutely perfect. It makes me wanna take out everything bad I've ever said about the state of Alabama.
The Sugar Stems - "Greatest Pretender" (Greatest Pretender 7" Certified PR Records)
Just the other day I was wondering just what in the mother FUCK happened to the Leg Hounds. You remember them right? Those Devil Dogs lovin' Midwestern righteous motherfuckers? Well it turns out that Drew Fredrichsen, after churning out some killer music with the Jetty Boys has moved onto to some great bubblegum pop with the Sugar Stems. Just the other day I was wondering just what in the fucking hell happened to the Leg Hounds. Their first album was totally killer but this single blew the official Cancer Hospital baseball cap that I am forced to wear to work everyday off my head. If this is what the modern incantation of power-pop is going to sound like then I will have a full on priapism ready to balance all of of the (hopefully) forthcoming masterpieces that will be rolling out from these cats any minute now (they do have a new album coming out next year). A fucking exquisite pop song no matter what genre you or I feel the need to put it in.
The Okmoniks - I'm Done (Party Fever! Slovenly Recordings)
So, here comes the oldie (or at least in the parlance of this current generation because this record was released in, I think 2006-7? It was in the heyday of PKY being print is all I remember) and it should count as a modern garage punk classic. For those not in the know, Justin Champlin (aka Nobunny) came to prominence with this band along with the Sneaky Pinks and by golly, if I'm not a total sucker for 60's style garage rock that's sped up and complete with a solid use of organs and female vox. Just listen to the bridge! It's frantic, desperate and underlays the songs epic angst. Homegirl wants to bail and forget this guy as soon as she can. There's a great band from Denver called the Manxx my friend Justin knows that seems to be carrying on the torch for these cats and once I cop some physical music I will let you know just how enraptured I am with them. Still, as much as I dug that song I can't even remember the name of it's going to be hard to top the pop wizardry the Okmoniks were able to create during their oh so brief and oh too short career. At least Nobunny still performs "Not That Good" and my wife will still be able to shake her amazing Irish ass all over the dance floor when that occurs.
And since I ended on a Nobunny note, once again, and one of the greatest memories of my life, here is the first show my wife and I attended together and here first REAL exposure to punk rock.
Til next week brothers and sisters,
Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll Motherfuckers
Jay Debauchery.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
The REAL Top Ten Grunge Records
If you didn't see the Rolling Stone readers poll (and frankly, I wouldn't have seen it if it wasn't on my Twitter feed. I only read RS for Matt Taibbi at this point because anything they cover regarding music would continually give me a stroke) on the "The Best Grunge Albums of All Time" then I envy you. It's a dreadful list of absolutely horrid albums that are ranked mainly because of their staying power in the consciousness of people so musically illiterate they've already forgotten that Limp Bizkit (sadly enough) was once the biggest band on the planet. Plus, I'm convinced these fuckers are why Kid Rock is still, somehow, relevant.
I'm not gonna dig into the list but instead offer an alternative of the ten greatest "Grunge" albums. By, the way, how come NO ONE consulted Everett True before this shit went to press?
10. Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans
Yeah, I know some people are gonna bitch about me including a band that's not from the late 80's/early 90's but I don't give a shit. Pissed Jeans are great and continue the tradition of sludgy, antipathetic punk rock from whence the genre arose. Please listen to this and tell me if it came out in 1993 and you were decked out in flannel and Doc Martens this wouldn't have been one of your favorite bands.
9. L7 - Bricks are Heavy
This album is a pretty big departure from their self titled debut and Smell the Magic (which boasts my favorite album artwork behind the Dwarves Blood, Guts and Pussy). It is absolutely one of the defining albums of the grunge era primarily because of this single. Pretty much every female band (I used the word band purposely here) who rose to prominence after this record came out lived in their shadow. Babes in Toyland were fucking awesome but they were waaay more on the Riot Grrrl spectrum than L7. Allison Best and myself need to go back to New Orleans and drain bottles of whiskey while clogging the jukebox of the Abbey with L7 until we get kicked out. Again.
8. Dinosaur Jr. - Where You Been
They'd already established themselves as rock GODS with You're Living All Over Me and Green Mind but the video era brought greater prominence to Dinosaur Jr. and J. Mascis with "Start Choppin'". Those albums were so noisye they were pretty much non accessible but with Where You Been, the band had cleaned everything up to focus on Mascis' warbly, fealty laden vocals and roaring guitar solos. I've always said that man has spoken more through his guitar than any other musician in the modern age and this album, especially tracks like "What Else is New" and "Get Me" definitely confirm that.
7. Quicksand - Slip
I faked being sick in middle school so I could stay home and learn every note of this album on my guitar. Quicksand will always be one of the best post-hardcore bands of all time because they had the BALLS to make hardcore more accessible.Slip is undeniably their masterpiece. Unfortunately, a bunch of dickheads didn't get what Walter Schreifels was doing and formed this as their basis for "rap-rock" and the early aughts fake hardcore bullshit like Crazy Town. It pains me that Sergro Vega is playing with the Deftones. (Rival Schools, United by Fate could be included here because that is the logical extension of this band).
6. Helmet - Meantime
Along with Quicksand, Helmet pretty much started the whole "alternative metal" thing in the early 90's.Unfortunately, the kids that dug albums like Meantime completely lost what the band was doing: taking hardcore music to a more technical and deconstructed level to make way for more confluent influences. Quick summation, you don't get something like Converge or Botch without these cats. Page Hamilton being a jazz trained guitarist (who worked with Glenn Branca, the genius that trained and inspired people like Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth) made people wise up to the technical greatness and actual brainstorming that went into these seemingly simple songs. Seriously, read an interview with Page and tell me your head didn't explode.
5. P.J. Harvey - Rid of Me
Man, this album is a fucking monster. I really don't know what else to write about it. Polly Jean Harvey is my generations Patti Smith. In the pantheon of grunge, this woman was able to instantly make apathetic overtures towards feminism by people like Juliana Hatfield (who I still adore, Only Everything is a fantastic album!) seem extremely simplistic and farcical.
4, Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
This is one of my favorite albums of all time. I adore Liz Phair and have defended her throughout her gradual decline into rancid mediocrity but holy fucking shit is this woman not firing on all cylinders here? This record changed the game for women in rock 'n' roll in the 90's. You don't get the TON of female artists (good or bad, for the good, see above) unleashed to the mainstream without this album. Also, Nash Kato is a twatmuffin.
3. Nirvana - Bleach
Sure, "Drain You" is the best song Cobain ever wrote but shut up about Nevermind. It vastly PALES IN COMPARISON to Bleach. This is a truly fantastic album that got lost in the mire of post-punk MTV friendly bullshit.
2. Melvins - Houdini
If it weren't for King Buzzo, Kurt would've never gotten into punk or metal so, THANKS KING BUZZO! The Melvins benefited as much as anyone with Nirvana blowing up. They got gobbled up by a major label and released their definitive album (Houdini) followed up by Stoner Witch (my mom bought that for me on Valentine's Day) and continue to slay even though my King golfs with this dickhead.
1, Mudhoney - Superfuzzbigmuff
There is no "grunge" without these guys. These are the architects of what is considered "grunge" today and indelibly influenced a generation of bands. Geniuses who took classic bands like the Sonics, the Wipers and Feed Time and twisted them into new realms of sonic awesomeness. Pearl Jam are ancillary characters to the whole grunge scene and while they might be cool guys (they took the Murder City Devils on tour and Eddie Vedder's got awesome taste in music, even if doesn't show in his shit band), they still will never have the effect on that city or subculture that a band like Mudhoney has had. So, FUCK YOU ROLLING STONE VOTERS!
Ten is your fucking top "grunge" album and not this? And VS. was on there as well? Dirt, while cool, got ranked and Facelift was left off? I'm pretty sure your editors said no to the Singles Soundtrack being voted in (cause it would've made your job easier) which blows my mind as much as (thankfully) no Smashing Pumpkins albums showing up on that list.
Final word, IF YOU DON'T WORSHIP MUDHONEY YOU SUCK AT LIFE!
I'm not gonna dig into the list but instead offer an alternative of the ten greatest "Grunge" albums. By, the way, how come NO ONE consulted Everett True before this shit went to press?
10. Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans
Yeah, I know some people are gonna bitch about me including a band that's not from the late 80's/early 90's but I don't give a shit. Pissed Jeans are great and continue the tradition of sludgy, antipathetic punk rock from whence the genre arose. Please listen to this and tell me if it came out in 1993 and you were decked out in flannel and Doc Martens this wouldn't have been one of your favorite bands.
9. L7 - Bricks are Heavy
This album is a pretty big departure from their self titled debut and Smell the Magic (which boasts my favorite album artwork behind the Dwarves Blood, Guts and Pussy). It is absolutely one of the defining albums of the grunge era primarily because of this single. Pretty much every female band (I used the word band purposely here) who rose to prominence after this record came out lived in their shadow. Babes in Toyland were fucking awesome but they were waaay more on the Riot Grrrl spectrum than L7. Allison Best and myself need to go back to New Orleans and drain bottles of whiskey while clogging the jukebox of the Abbey with L7 until we get kicked out. Again.
8. Dinosaur Jr. - Where You Been
They'd already established themselves as rock GODS with You're Living All Over Me and Green Mind but the video era brought greater prominence to Dinosaur Jr. and J. Mascis with "Start Choppin'". Those albums were so noisye they were pretty much non accessible but with Where You Been, the band had cleaned everything up to focus on Mascis' warbly, fealty laden vocals and roaring guitar solos. I've always said that man has spoken more through his guitar than any other musician in the modern age and this album, especially tracks like "What Else is New" and "Get Me" definitely confirm that.
7. Quicksand - Slip
I faked being sick in middle school so I could stay home and learn every note of this album on my guitar. Quicksand will always be one of the best post-hardcore bands of all time because they had the BALLS to make hardcore more accessible.Slip is undeniably their masterpiece. Unfortunately, a bunch of dickheads didn't get what Walter Schreifels was doing and formed this as their basis for "rap-rock" and the early aughts fake hardcore bullshit like Crazy Town. It pains me that Sergro Vega is playing with the Deftones. (Rival Schools, United by Fate could be included here because that is the logical extension of this band).
6. Helmet - Meantime
Along with Quicksand, Helmet pretty much started the whole "alternative metal" thing in the early 90's.Unfortunately, the kids that dug albums like Meantime completely lost what the band was doing: taking hardcore music to a more technical and deconstructed level to make way for more confluent influences. Quick summation, you don't get something like Converge or Botch without these cats. Page Hamilton being a jazz trained guitarist (who worked with Glenn Branca, the genius that trained and inspired people like Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth) made people wise up to the technical greatness and actual brainstorming that went into these seemingly simple songs. Seriously, read an interview with Page and tell me your head didn't explode.
5. P.J. Harvey - Rid of Me
Man, this album is a fucking monster. I really don't know what else to write about it. Polly Jean Harvey is my generations Patti Smith. In the pantheon of grunge, this woman was able to instantly make apathetic overtures towards feminism by people like Juliana Hatfield (who I still adore, Only Everything is a fantastic album!) seem extremely simplistic and farcical.
4, Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
This is one of my favorite albums of all time. I adore Liz Phair and have defended her throughout her gradual decline into rancid mediocrity but holy fucking shit is this woman not firing on all cylinders here? This record changed the game for women in rock 'n' roll in the 90's. You don't get the TON of female artists (good or bad, for the good, see above) unleashed to the mainstream without this album. Also, Nash Kato is a twatmuffin.
3. Nirvana - Bleach
Sure, "Drain You" is the best song Cobain ever wrote but shut up about Nevermind. It vastly PALES IN COMPARISON to Bleach. This is a truly fantastic album that got lost in the mire of post-punk MTV friendly bullshit.
2. Melvins - Houdini
If it weren't for King Buzzo, Kurt would've never gotten into punk or metal so, THANKS KING BUZZO! The Melvins benefited as much as anyone with Nirvana blowing up. They got gobbled up by a major label and released their definitive album (Houdini) followed up by Stoner Witch (my mom bought that for me on Valentine's Day) and continue to slay even though my King golfs with this dickhead.
1, Mudhoney - Superfuzzbigmuff
There is no "grunge" without these guys. These are the architects of what is considered "grunge" today and indelibly influenced a generation of bands. Geniuses who took classic bands like the Sonics, the Wipers and Feed Time and twisted them into new realms of sonic awesomeness. Pearl Jam are ancillary characters to the whole grunge scene and while they might be cool guys (they took the Murder City Devils on tour and Eddie Vedder's got awesome taste in music, even if doesn't show in his shit band), they still will never have the effect on that city or subculture that a band like Mudhoney has had. So, FUCK YOU ROLLING STONE VOTERS!
Ten is your fucking top "grunge" album and not this? And VS. was on there as well? Dirt, while cool, got ranked and Facelift was left off? I'm pretty sure your editors said no to the Singles Soundtrack being voted in (cause it would've made your job easier) which blows my mind as much as (thankfully) no Smashing Pumpkins albums showing up on that list.
Final word, IF YOU DON'T WORSHIP MUDHONEY YOU SUCK AT LIFE!
Saturday, October 27, 2012
The Please Kill Yourself Guide to Proper Movie Theater Ettiquette
I wrote a version of this years ago in either the first or second physical copy of Please Kill Yourself (it also ran in the Daily Cougar with WAAAAY less cursing). I was going through copies of the back issues but I couldn't find it so I'm writing it again. Dig.
I love movies and even though many of my generation seem to prefer watching a butt cam version of new flicks on their computers or HD televisions I still adore going to the cinema and slouching down in a pitch black theater and being totally immersed in a film. However, over the years it has become more and more difficult to properly enjoy a movie without having some mouth breathing asshole (or group of them) ruin the entire experience. I totally get why people prefer to wait until a movie comes out on DVD to check it out because the ordeal of going to a movie theater and the insane amount of annoyances that come with the task (I use that last word deliberately) almost negates whatever pleasure I can wring out of the experience. Yes, I am that ADD that the actions of my fellow moviegoers can completely fuck up my reading and enjoyment of a film. But, I do believe that, as in any other facet of society, there are common behaviors that should be observed for the betterment of all involved.
Mrs. Debauchery and I almost exclusively attend films at Sundance Cinemas (it used to be the Angelika) downtown for a couple of reasons. The nearest Alamo Drafthouse is too far away (this will be corrected soon when the Midtown franchise opens up and despite my hatred of everything that exists in Midtown Houston my love for the Alamo Drafthouse overrides it), they have a full bar, it's ten minutes from the Heights, super clean and comfy but primarily it's because the crowds are fucking decent, film loving human beings that can behave themselves. Also, 99% of the time NO asshat teenagers. Last night, Mrs. Debauchery and I ventured to the Edwards off of Weslayan because we wanted to check out Sinister and it was the only theater nearby that was screening the flick. Big mistake. For one thing, and I hadn't been to that theater in so fucking long I forgot how horrible it is, it was overrun with shithead kids and their yuppie parents who didn't seem to mind them darting across the compound like Danny Boyle style zombies and screaming their fucking heads off. But the adults behaved way worse. I'll get into that below in our official guide to proper movie theater etiquette.
Rule #1: SHUT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK UP!
Really, that could have been the entirety of this post but I guess I should explain it a little more, right? It can't be that difficult to not say a word for 90 minutes. Okay, and maybe this is just me and my neuroses, but when I watch a movie or listen to a record for the first time I devote 100% of my attention to it. It's only fair the artists, ya know? I mean, they worked their asses off on this piece of entertainment and to truly appreciate or digest what they're throwing at me I feel that I should have my concentration focused solely on what they're trying to communicate...not some fucking assholes seated in front of me constantly opining on the film as it unfolds.
When we got to our seats last night, the entire god damned theater was in conversation and we figured this was a bad sign. Well, 75% of the theater got quiet when the movie began but two drunken twats next to us and a couple in front of us provided the wife and myself with a running commentary throughout the WHOLE FUCKING MOVIE.
Look, shitheads, no one gives a FUCK what you think is going to happen, you're reaction to what we all just experienced on screen or your personal estimations of the characters and their behaviors. "Oooh, he done fucked up!" or "Oh man, he's gonna die next" or anything of the sort is not relevant conversation. You wanna express those opinions? Fine. Do it after the last reel is over in the lobby, tweet your friends or blog about it. So, instead of communicating your most instant, base reactions to the film just keep that dialogue internal so it doesn't break my concentration. You know, filmmakers aspire to provide such dramatic elements as tension and your blathering destroys that. Seriously, try and watch a movie like Audition in the middle of a middle school cafeteria on a Friday and tell me that it works the same as if you were left undisturbed.
The couple in front of us last night kept chatting away and I (admittedly, very petulantly) kept kicking the back of their seats every couple of minutes hoping they would get the hint. They didn't and constantly shot me the look of death. Oh, I'M the asshole? Once I decided that technique wasn't working I began unleashing a torrent of hot, vegetarian (I ate a soy burger with a ton of avocado before the movie), Jameson infused farts and wafting them over their heads. I know they inhaled them by the disgusted looks on their faces when they turned around mere moments after my ass unleashed the fury.
By the way, I do understand their are moments in movies when the audience wants to cheer in unison, scream, laugh or whatever. I'm totally cool with that. In fact, the communal experience is what makes film going so fantastic and things like midnight movies such a blast. However, 99% of movies we all go to see aren't The Room or Rocky Horror or Grindhouse so let's keep that in mind when you're watching Movie X next Friday.
Rule #2: Your Phone No Longer Exists in the Theater
Look, I'm totally addicted to having an iPhone. I'm constantly checking Twitter and Facebook and all that jazz but I am capable of severing those digital ties when I enter a movie theater. It's not like I'm going to miss out on some Earth changing event in the hour and a half when I'm watching a movie and if some shit did happen I kinda think the theater staff would stop the flick and inform us that aliens had made first contact. Mobile phone screens are incredibly bright and distracting when your surrounded by darkness. It's jarring enough when I get up in the morning to turn off my alarm (I haven't awoken with the sun up in almost a year now). Last night a group of shithead teenagers rushed into the theater and ALL OF THEM immediately began their phonekakke ritual. The couple at the end of our row had already asked them, politely, to knock that shit off but they didn't get the hint. Against Mrs. Debauchery's protestations I got up, walked to rows up and three to the right and said, "Turn those the fuck off and shut the fuck up." They looked at me like I just Sandusky'd their little brother and put everything up. Even though that tactic was successful, Mrs. Debauchery was still PISSED at me. I fail to see the problem with what I did. It's not like I recreated this video, which I must say, is AWESOME!
Rule #3: Get to Your Seats on Time
This ain't fucking NASA shit, people. You know what time the movie is going to start. You checked it out on Fandango before you left the house, it's blasted across the marquee where you purchase your ticket and it's even printed on your fucking ticket. If it says, 8 p.m. it's gonna start relatively close to that so why not get their by that time? People who walk into movies late are the most likely to violate the two aforementioned rules. Inconsiderate assholes is what they are. In fact, why don't theaters institute a policy where they quit admitting people once the movie has started or quit selling tickets to it 15 minutes before the start time? When I went to press screenings in college my biggest complaint was that the last motherfuckers to arrive got to sit in the press row (the primo seats in the middle of the theater) after they scrunched us all dead center because most of the press assigned to a screening doesn't go. I wonder why. Why reward such irresponsibility? These shitbirds would talk and talk and text and text while people who were being paid to study and exalt an opinion on movies were trying to work. Granted, if I did the same shit to these drooling dolts as they worked a Sunglass Hut kiosk at the Galleria they wouldn't have a hard time rearranging the Ray Ban's through the disturbance. But, I think the jobs require different levels of talent, intelligence, and skill.
Rule #4: When it comes to evening screenings, leave your kids at home
I'm in my 30's now, so I have a lot of friends who are parents. I'm an uncle, too. I get that it's rough to find a sitter so you and your spawn shooting pez dispenser of a spouse can go out and enjoy a nice evening. And if you should choose to take your kids to see a horror flick at a matinee I have no problem with that (I saw Night of the Living Dead for the first time when I was 9). You know your kids limitations and should you choose to inflict their developing psyche's with wanton gore and tits and cheap jump scares, that's fucking aces with me. But...when you drag them to see a movie when it's HOURS after their bedtime that's when I get all Andy Rooney. Kids get cranky when they're tired. They get worse the longer you try to keep them in a situation they absolutely abhor. Children are very much like women when it comes to vaginal probes in this respect.
Rule #5: See Rule #1
If you want the TL;DR version here it is.
I love movies and even though many of my generation seem to prefer watching a butt cam version of new flicks on their computers or HD televisions I still adore going to the cinema and slouching down in a pitch black theater and being totally immersed in a film. However, over the years it has become more and more difficult to properly enjoy a movie without having some mouth breathing asshole (or group of them) ruin the entire experience. I totally get why people prefer to wait until a movie comes out on DVD to check it out because the ordeal of going to a movie theater and the insane amount of annoyances that come with the task (I use that last word deliberately) almost negates whatever pleasure I can wring out of the experience. Yes, I am that ADD that the actions of my fellow moviegoers can completely fuck up my reading and enjoyment of a film. But, I do believe that, as in any other facet of society, there are common behaviors that should be observed for the betterment of all involved.
Mrs. Debauchery and I almost exclusively attend films at Sundance Cinemas (it used to be the Angelika) downtown for a couple of reasons. The nearest Alamo Drafthouse is too far away (this will be corrected soon when the Midtown franchise opens up and despite my hatred of everything that exists in Midtown Houston my love for the Alamo Drafthouse overrides it), they have a full bar, it's ten minutes from the Heights, super clean and comfy but primarily it's because the crowds are fucking decent, film loving human beings that can behave themselves. Also, 99% of the time NO asshat teenagers. Last night, Mrs. Debauchery and I ventured to the Edwards off of Weslayan because we wanted to check out Sinister and it was the only theater nearby that was screening the flick. Big mistake. For one thing, and I hadn't been to that theater in so fucking long I forgot how horrible it is, it was overrun with shithead kids and their yuppie parents who didn't seem to mind them darting across the compound like Danny Boyle style zombies and screaming their fucking heads off. But the adults behaved way worse. I'll get into that below in our official guide to proper movie theater etiquette.
Rule #1: SHUT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK UP!
Really, that could have been the entirety of this post but I guess I should explain it a little more, right? It can't be that difficult to not say a word for 90 minutes. Okay, and maybe this is just me and my neuroses, but when I watch a movie or listen to a record for the first time I devote 100% of my attention to it. It's only fair the artists, ya know? I mean, they worked their asses off on this piece of entertainment and to truly appreciate or digest what they're throwing at me I feel that I should have my concentration focused solely on what they're trying to communicate...not some fucking assholes seated in front of me constantly opining on the film as it unfolds.
When we got to our seats last night, the entire god damned theater was in conversation and we figured this was a bad sign. Well, 75% of the theater got quiet when the movie began but two drunken twats next to us and a couple in front of us provided the wife and myself with a running commentary throughout the WHOLE FUCKING MOVIE.
Look, shitheads, no one gives a FUCK what you think is going to happen, you're reaction to what we all just experienced on screen or your personal estimations of the characters and their behaviors. "Oooh, he done fucked up!" or "Oh man, he's gonna die next" or anything of the sort is not relevant conversation. You wanna express those opinions? Fine. Do it after the last reel is over in the lobby, tweet your friends or blog about it. So, instead of communicating your most instant, base reactions to the film just keep that dialogue internal so it doesn't break my concentration. You know, filmmakers aspire to provide such dramatic elements as tension and your blathering destroys that. Seriously, try and watch a movie like Audition in the middle of a middle school cafeteria on a Friday and tell me that it works the same as if you were left undisturbed.
The couple in front of us last night kept chatting away and I (admittedly, very petulantly) kept kicking the back of their seats every couple of minutes hoping they would get the hint. They didn't and constantly shot me the look of death. Oh, I'M the asshole? Once I decided that technique wasn't working I began unleashing a torrent of hot, vegetarian (I ate a soy burger with a ton of avocado before the movie), Jameson infused farts and wafting them over their heads. I know they inhaled them by the disgusted looks on their faces when they turned around mere moments after my ass unleashed the fury.
By the way, I do understand their are moments in movies when the audience wants to cheer in unison, scream, laugh or whatever. I'm totally cool with that. In fact, the communal experience is what makes film going so fantastic and things like midnight movies such a blast. However, 99% of movies we all go to see aren't The Room or Rocky Horror or Grindhouse so let's keep that in mind when you're watching Movie X next Friday.
Rule #2: Your Phone No Longer Exists in the Theater
Look, I'm totally addicted to having an iPhone. I'm constantly checking Twitter and Facebook and all that jazz but I am capable of severing those digital ties when I enter a movie theater. It's not like I'm going to miss out on some Earth changing event in the hour and a half when I'm watching a movie and if some shit did happen I kinda think the theater staff would stop the flick and inform us that aliens had made first contact. Mobile phone screens are incredibly bright and distracting when your surrounded by darkness. It's jarring enough when I get up in the morning to turn off my alarm (I haven't awoken with the sun up in almost a year now). Last night a group of shithead teenagers rushed into the theater and ALL OF THEM immediately began their phonekakke ritual. The couple at the end of our row had already asked them, politely, to knock that shit off but they didn't get the hint. Against Mrs. Debauchery's protestations I got up, walked to rows up and three to the right and said, "Turn those the fuck off and shut the fuck up." They looked at me like I just Sandusky'd their little brother and put everything up. Even though that tactic was successful, Mrs. Debauchery was still PISSED at me. I fail to see the problem with what I did. It's not like I recreated this video, which I must say, is AWESOME!
Rule #3: Get to Your Seats on Time
This ain't fucking NASA shit, people. You know what time the movie is going to start. You checked it out on Fandango before you left the house, it's blasted across the marquee where you purchase your ticket and it's even printed on your fucking ticket. If it says, 8 p.m. it's gonna start relatively close to that so why not get their by that time? People who walk into movies late are the most likely to violate the two aforementioned rules. Inconsiderate assholes is what they are. In fact, why don't theaters institute a policy where they quit admitting people once the movie has started or quit selling tickets to it 15 minutes before the start time? When I went to press screenings in college my biggest complaint was that the last motherfuckers to arrive got to sit in the press row (the primo seats in the middle of the theater) after they scrunched us all dead center because most of the press assigned to a screening doesn't go. I wonder why. Why reward such irresponsibility? These shitbirds would talk and talk and text and text while people who were being paid to study and exalt an opinion on movies were trying to work. Granted, if I did the same shit to these drooling dolts as they worked a Sunglass Hut kiosk at the Galleria they wouldn't have a hard time rearranging the Ray Ban's through the disturbance. But, I think the jobs require different levels of talent, intelligence, and skill.
Rule #4: When it comes to evening screenings, leave your kids at home
I'm in my 30's now, so I have a lot of friends who are parents. I'm an uncle, too. I get that it's rough to find a sitter so you and your spawn shooting pez dispenser of a spouse can go out and enjoy a nice evening. And if you should choose to take your kids to see a horror flick at a matinee I have no problem with that (I saw Night of the Living Dead for the first time when I was 9). You know your kids limitations and should you choose to inflict their developing psyche's with wanton gore and tits and cheap jump scares, that's fucking aces with me. But...when you drag them to see a movie when it's HOURS after their bedtime that's when I get all Andy Rooney. Kids get cranky when they're tired. They get worse the longer you try to keep them in a situation they absolutely abhor. Children are very much like women when it comes to vaginal probes in this respect.
Rule #5: See Rule #1
If you want the TL;DR version here it is.
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