“Would you still be my friend if these fries weren’t there?”
In Your Face “The Grub...” “Keep your hands off my fries. You’ve eaten yours these are mine.” Genius and stupid. But seriously, words to live by, words to die for.
I know it’s fucking stupid and cliché to start a column with this copout bullshit statement, but I really ain’t got dick to say this month. Nothin’. No killer records, really. No terrible records to write about either. I’ve kinda got senioritis too. Starting today, I officially have one more month as coordinator of Maximum. Tonight I just moved my first load of “why the fuck do I still have all this” stuff out of the house and into my new pad. Starting tomorrow I’ll be living in a single family home with a big ass yard in the inner Richmond district of SF with a couple friends. An affordable single-family house with a yard in San Francisco is the bay area real estate equivalent of a Fix Vengeance. Psyched, but on the other hand moving fucking sux! Why can’t I get rid of old birthday cards from my parents or piles of crappy doodles that I did at a job I had five years ago cause I didn’t feel like working that aren’t even good or interesting? I just can’t. It’s so stupid that whenever it’s time to relocate, I have more and more pointless fucking crap to lug. When I moved to Portland in 2001 three of us fit all of our belongings in a fucking Hyundai from Boston, and now here I am with 27 huge boxes to move across town plus a bed, guitars and amps, stereo shit and a giant record shelf. I’d say it’s time to settle in and stay put or get rid of all this crap. Speaking of housing, how ‘bout that economy, aye? Honestly, who gives a shit. You know who’s gonna be fine no matter what happens to them? We are. Those of us that every month have to find some way to pay their bills and scrape by every fucking month without a penny in their pockets four days before pay day. We’re used to this shit and will be the ones laughing when they come and take away your fucking Hummer. Shit’s gonna get rough though. Everyone’s so comfortable having everything they want and everything they need, that when it comes down to pure survival, shit’s gonna get crazy. Hell, the other day I saw a dude in a wheelchair get beat up and robbed on Mission Street and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, I was too far away. People are fucking scum but when it comes down to survival, the gloves are off.
***
My favorite songs this month couldn’t be further from punk, to be honest, but these are some other things that have kept me going for the last thirty days… Lemonheads “Uhhhh” from Hate Your Friends a perfect song—great lyrics, crude Replacements-sans-wankery riffing, and enough angst to keep it out of the college-rock drone zone. Hell, practically the whole record is killer. The Clay’s songs on the Great Punk Hits comp LP are straight killer and the guitar solos alone make me melt. I’ve been trying to keep the Underdogs “East of Dauchau” on the hush hush until I found a copy but fuck it, right? If I were a true asshole, I’d tell you that this song is the blueprint for No Hope For The Kids and Criminal Damage. I know it’s not rare or expensive but I can’t find a copy, so someone send me one! Gastunk “The Eye’s” on A Farewell To Arms—it’s bouncy, it’s catchy, and the solos are all teased hair, white Flying-Vs and make up. Ace. And last but certainly not least, the debut EP from Japan’s Unkind somehow managed to slip by our radar. This mammoth EP, appropriately titled Crustie Not Hippies, along with the Kriegshög 7" might be my two favorite EPs of ’08 and are gonna be giving Framtid some real competition. More on this record next month.
If you made it this far, thanks and I apologize for wasting your time.
No comments:
Post a Comment