Punk Me, Punk You! Featuring Wolves at Bay, The Scutches, and Kite Party

Wolves at Bay - Only a Mirror

Combining full-on spittle-faced hardcore fury with a post-hardcore/angular rock sensitivity, Wolves at Bay get this punk rock column off to a maniacal start.  Opening cut, "Bedside Maner" starts off with an indie-kinda guitar intro that made me hesitate that I'd be subjected to some whinny, masscara-faced preening, but immediately the lads dispense all those thoughts.  This is pure hardcore with double vocals that blend together seamlessly, both shredding their voice boxes with equal abandon.  Guitars morph into churing buzzsaws, tearing through the melody.  Yes, there is melody.  Enough to keep the song hanging together and adding that post-hardcore vibe.  The second half of the song ups the hardcore quotient with chugging frontal-bone smashing guitars, plowing through the violence.

From start to finish, the whole album sounds like someone took a red-hot burning poker and pressed it right up against a raw nerve.  Emotive, violent, self-vilifying, and blistering.  And at the same time, cuts like "I Have Nothing to Offer"" snap the hardcore smashing with moments of pure post-rock, indie beauty.  Yes, it's still rough, but makes for a great blend from the pure punk.   "Breaking in Two" even includes a mid-way breakdown, with silence slowly morphing into an almost jazz like interlude.  It's moments like that that rise this album above the norm of post-emo punk that comes our way.  Worth checking out.

http://animalstylerecords.bandcamp.com/album/only-a-mirror

The Scutches - Ten Songs, Ten Years

Moving over to a much more radio-friendly, pop-punk vein, we got The Scutches with their post-Ramones, post-Green Day platter, Ten Songs, Ten Years.  What we got here are . . . yes,  ten songs of melodic yet still aggressive pop-punk juiciness.  I got no problem with  with pop punk as long as the choruses are catchy, the chops still mighty, and the singing not too whiny.  Check, check, check.  This is pop punk done with flash and flair.  Fun songs, loud guitars, substantial pounding drums. 

Taking their cues from masters of the past, The Dead Milkmen, Queers, with a dash of The Ramones, plus tossing in a chunk of Weezer and even some of the innocence of Buddy Holly, Ten Songs, Ten Years is a whirlwind of hooks and melodies all crammed into 26 minutes of pop punk goodness.  "Weekend Boyfriend" would've even sounded great if it'd been released by the Ramones and wouldn't have sounded out of place on their greatest hits album.   "Don't Go" has got a simple vocal hook that will effortlessly embed itself in the toughest cortex and reel itself right into the brain.

Nothing here to change the world, but good clean punky fun. 

http://brightandbarrow.bandcamp.com/album/ten-songs-ten-years

Kite Party - Baseball Season

Definitely blurring the boundaries of what we call punk, Philadelphia's Kite Party tread a path through the jungles of emo punk, skirting around the rain forest of indie rock, all the time avoiding the quicksand that can sink both genres into parody.  Emo originally sprang from the world of hardcore punk, incorporating real singing, unusual time structures and more introspective emotions.  But what became known as emo to the general public, and to me, was whiny, nail-polish wearing wimps, crying about lost dates and facial breakouts.  Kite Party are here to change that.

This is emo as originally intended.  It still has an inherent ferocity (not a manufactured, MTV-ready amped up pace) but it is definitely pop-friendly and melodic.  Songs go in and out of time changes, mood changes, pace and tone changes.  Indie rock seems to reign supreme, but not in a fey sort, more in an experimental sort.  Guitar textures are played with.  In the end it all makes the album feel . . . big.  And it is.  It's a real big album and in that sense, a kind of masterpiece of its sort.

A song like "Spirit Gum" represents all this in one brief capsule.  Beautiful at times, intensely melodic at times, experimental in tone and structure, yet still, at times aggressive and near-violent.

In the end, it's a terrific album that challenges me on every listen in the best sense of the word.  I never thought that I liked emo before.  Now Kite Party have proven me wrong.

http://kiteparty.bandcamp.com/


--Racer

Punk Me? Punk You! featuring Revillers, Pipes and Pints, Sir Reg, and Strawberry Blondes

Revillers - S/T

That's what I'm talking about!  Pure, old school UK-sounding punk, taking it's cue from those it should; Sex Pistols, Clash, Sub-humans, with the fury of Oi! and some good 'ol Boston work ethic.  This is the punk that's been charging me recently.  Anthemic, fiery, pissed-as-hell, and fused with chugging guitar riffs, fist-in-the-air singalong chorus, and an actually melody. 

Coming from Boston, where street punk is the city pastime, Revillers do it all right.  "No Bullshit Reactor" is the perfect combination of meth-crazed speed, vitriol, and gangland chants.  Forget whatever feelgood song the corporations try to push down our throats as the song of the summer, this should be the anthem of the season of our discontent.  From there, the album is a blur of flying fist, elbows and dislocated joints.  "Revision" pummels with pure punk fury and abandon.  "Fifth Column" will get the pit into a foam-mouthed frenzy.  "1860" is timeless punk that demands a black leather fist pump to the chanted chorus.

No emo crap here.  No pretense at being pop.  Bet the guys never saw a bottle of mascara in their lives.  Just brilliantly played, heart-felt Boston punk.  God bless em.

 On Patac Records, who are having a 10% off Summer of Scum sale right now.  Go there.

http://www.patacrecords.com/

Pipes and Pints - Until We Die

God, nothing sounds better in a good punk record than the screaming wail of bagpipes.  Just something about the blend of heart-splitting guitar abandon, guttural vocal spewing, and bagpipes.  They just lend that touch of mournful indignation to the resistance and rebellious nature of punk.   I've been digging on a lot of Celtic punk recently -- even devoted a whole radio show set to some of the better stuff that's come into the Ripple.  Now I got another.  Pipes and Pints.

As the name suggests, this album goes down better with a flagon of ale, a crew of rowdy mates, some buxom barmaids, and a tavern that doesn't mind being doused in suds and torn up from the floorboards by the mosh pit.  The real mindfuck here is that the boys aren't from Ireland or Scotland.  Not even from Boston.  They hail from Prague, Czech Republic, but you'd never know it from Until We Die.  This is revolutionary Celtic punk ready to stand up with the best of em.

Guitars chug.  Drums flatten.  Bass compresses.  Vocals spit.  And the bagpipes, those glorious bagpipes.  They soar, man. They really soar.

Each song is a frenetic assault of spit-in-your eye rebel punk, elevated to a higher level by the pipes. On Unrepentent Records.  If Celtic punk is your thing, check this out without hesitation.

http://unrepentantrecords.com/pipesandpints.html#thumb

Sir Reg - A Sign of the Times

Speaking of Celtic Punk . . .

Speaking of Celtic Punk coming from someplace you'd never expect. . . .

Allow me to introduce you to Sir Reg, wailing Celtic punksters from that capital of Celtic music. . . Sweden.  Yep, Celtic punk is truly universal.

No bagpipes here, instead we got a fiddle adding that touch of class to the proceeding, and well done.  Sir Reg play things with a bit less fury than Pipes and Pints, with a bit more of a folk touch, but still fit squarely into a league with The Pogues, The Men They Couldn't Hang, the Dubliners, or Boston's own, The Dropkick Murphys.

Misplaced Dubliner Brenden Sheehy leads Sir Reg, so we got an Irishman singing while backed by a crack crew of Sweden's finest blitzing out the raucous noise.  "A Sign of the Times," is about as rousing an opener as you'd want to find.  Chugging along folk punk sure to get the punters cheering along.  "Dying to Rebel" ups the ante a bit, with some killer fiddle work and some stop start chant-alongs.

Just good fun stuff all the way through.

On Heptown Records.  http://www.heptownrecords.com/

Strawberry Blondes - Rise Up

Truth.

If I'd never heard of a little band called The Clash, I'd think Rise up by U.K. punkers, Strawberry Blondes, was just about the cat's meow.  Rousing choruses, big guitars, rebellion in lyric.  It's all there.  Add to that some good harmony vocals and the album really kicks.

The problem is, I have heard of The Clash, and while Strawberry Blondes do a good job of trying to rise above their influences, it all just sounds so familiar.  I mean familiar, as in Clash debut album part II.  They claim Rancid as another influence.  But really, Rancid were just a fancy Clash cover band, weren't they?  So, if The Clash were the only band that mattered, what do you do with a Clash tribute band?

Again, there's nothing bad here.   I like it all.  Start to finish, it's a good album, but it just hangs so thick with the Clash influence that I have no idea what the guys sound like on their own.

So, if I'm not a fan, why include it here in the Ripple, you may ask.  Because, the guys got talent and they're really good at what they do.  Each song has adrenaline and melody and chops.  I'm hoping that they'll step away from the shadow of the Clash and show us what they can really do.  And if they do, toss in a few other influences--stretch themselves-- I bet they got a killer album in them.

We'll see.

http://www.myspace.com/strawberryblondes

--Racer 


Pipes and Pints


Sir Reg


Strawberry Blondes

Patac Records - It's a Lifestyle: featuring Psycho, SCC, Rawhide, and Panzer Bastard

Hardcore institution, Patac Records, are one of my favorite purveyors of scumbag, splatter, hardcore, punk, metal CD's, vinyl and cassettes.   They've been uncaging these raging sounds of ultimate distortion since 2008 and have amassed a huge catalog of decrepit,  politically-incorrect, gutter punk.  Each release is packaged with tender love and care, and a shot of penicillin.  Colored vinyl, hand-numbered, die-cut.  You name it.  Patac loves their music and the packaging reflects this. 

Recently, main man, Patac himself, tossed me a folder full of 7"s and CD's.  Let's lift the lid off the coffin, then shall we, and take a peek at the decomposing offers hidden inside.  Keep your rubber gloves at the ready, cause the contents are sure to be infectious.

Psycho - Vertigo Ep

Holy crap this record scared the hell outta me when I first opened it.  Chainsaw die cut vinyl that's sharp enough to draw blood and commit unspeakable crimes.  Turns out, that was just the warm up, and playing the 4-song EP by Massachusetts-based hardcore grinders, Psycho, was the real terror.  Blistering, scuzz punk crawling out of the gutter and puking on your welcome mat.  There's instruments here playing real chords, but that's probably just a mistake.  Like the vinyl, these guys take a buzzsaw approach towards their guitars and songwriting with guitars going 100 mph, and drums pounding faster than a jackhammer.  Vocals are an idea, rather than an execution, but the thought still comes across loud and clear.  There's enough hate in here to firebomb a nation of capitalists.

With a band name like Psycho and member names like Charlie Infection and Cody Molest, you know what you're getting.  4 songs of disgusto-punk and I couldn't be happier about it.  Brutal slime-oid stuff.

Slimy Cunt and the Fist Fucks - Bastardz

With a name like that, you may not expect that these disgusto-punk/metallers actually got a handle on song structure and melody.   They also got a vial full of some mucoid-sleaze and they're not afraid to use it.  Sputum dripping, bodily-fluid soaked spit and roll with some serious guitar chops and a bucket-load of meth in the rhythm section.  Killer assault of degenerate punk.  4 songs of desperate outsider wailing, like "I Don't Belong" held together with blood and passion.  So dripping with fluids you half expect it to leave skidmarks on your turntable.

Like an aural STD.  Just as slimy and just as contagious.  On puke-green colored vinyl.  Simply perfect.

Rawhide - Branded for Life

Fuck.  Wasn't expecting this.  After the toned-down, haunted/spoken intro, a real guitar solo breaks out.  From where? I don't know, but it's freaking killer and unlike any punk 7" I'd ever heard.  It makes the eruption of punk riffing and growling that much more effective when the boys race off into a terrifying punk/metal crossover raging in true Motorhead-inspired fury.  Grinding metallic chords played fast and intent, pounding bass as if Lemmy had spawned a mutant son, and drums keeping pace with the methamphetamine raging through the blood stream. 

Pure hardcore-metal crossover bliss coming from Sweden.  4-songs at 33 rpm. Think the Hellacopters dressed in leather, ramrodding their Harley's through front doors of a rival biker bar looking for a fight.   I'm sold.

Panzer Bastard - Gods, Thugs, & Madmen

Chain links and brass knuckles aren't included with this 10"   5-song EP but are highly recommended.  Violence will break out immediately upon playing.  Be prepared.

I'd never heard of the Bastards before, but they're on my radar now.  Mainly so I stay the hell away when they come war-ravaging into my town before they cause me bodily harm.  Forget that, just playing this brutalthrash/crust crossover can do that.  These guys lay it down thick and hard with a non-stop hardcore groove.   Like their name implies, this is a pummeling, artillery-ready assault from an armored division of pissed-off miscretins.   And just about as unrelenting as that panzer division setting sights and laying waste to the world around you.

Motor-crust of the highest order. 

Be sure to visit http://www.patacrecords.com to pick these titles and tons of other great punk, hardcore and metal records! 

--Racer

Ripple LIbrary - Commando: The Autobiography of Johnny Ramone vs. I Slept with Joey Ramone: A Family Memoir

A few months ago I was flipping through a copy of New York magazine and was surprised to see they printed a chapter from the upcoming Autobiography Of Johnny Ramone. He died in 2004 and I had no idea he had ever written his life story. I've been a huge Ramones fan for over 30 years and was lucky enough to catch the band live close to 20 times throughout the 1980's. I'd read a lot about them and figured I'd heard most of the stories already so I skipped the book written by Joey Ramone's brother Mickey Leigh called I Slept with Joey Ramone: A Family Memoir that was published in 2009. But when I found out about Johnny's book I took a trip to the library and took out Mickey's book before reading Johnny's. I figured it would be good to read them back to back and see how their stories compared.

Mickey's book goes into great detail about their upbringing and how Joey was a total outcast due to his strange looks and even stranger behavior that was later diagnosed as OCD. Joey really couldn't have done anything other than be a Ramone. Something I never knew was that Mickey had played music with Johnny at some point before the Ramones started. I also had no idea that Mickey wound up marrying an ex-girlfriend of Johnny's. It's well known that Johnny's wife Linda was with Joey originally and the split caused huge problems for the band. Obviously, Johnny and Mickey's accounts of these events differ greatly. Mickey goes into way more detail on this topic than Johnny. Maybe too much, but he probably needed to get some things off his chest. The best parts of Mickey's book is when he talks about working for the band in the early days. He was a roadie for the band during the early years and gives interesting accounts of things that are well known in Ramones lore - opening for Johnny Winter in 1975, the first shows in the UK a year later and all the craziness of their early tours. I also had no idea that he sang backing vocals on the first Ramones album, notably on "Blitzkrieg Bop." Years later when the song was used for a Budweiser commercial he tried getting some money out of the band, causing a huge fall out with his brother. I Slept with Joey Ramone is a good read, but Mickey comes across a little bitter that his own music career never went anywhere and he's been stuck living in his brother's shadow.

Johnny Ramone was determined to live in no one's shadow. His book is short and to the point. Not surprising given his guitar playing and no bullshit attitude. Johnny was a total hard ass but if it wasn't for him the band would have never survived more than a year or two. Most Ramones insiders give Johnny a lot of respect but have gone on record that he was absolutely no fun at all. His book doesn't really dispute those claims at all. He talks about how much he enjoyed being angry and pissing people off. He also made sure the band worked hard and made money so they could all retire comfortably. His story of the Ramones is consistent with most of the others that have been published over the years but a few really cool stories stood out for me. I was very excited to learn that Johnny said the loudest band he ever saw was Grand Funk Railroad in the early 70's and one of the only people that ever intimidated him was James Williamson of the Stooges. Johnny's book comes in a very cool hardcover package with glossy pages and lots of excellent photos. The appendix at the end of the book contains lists of all of his favorite musicians, baseball players, movies, etc. I had no idea Leslie West was his third favorite guitarist of all time.

Both books end with chapters dealing with the cancer that took Joey and Johnny's life. Having lost a loved one recently to cancer, I wound up skipping over quite a bit of them. Having spent many months in and out of hospitals and doctor's offices I had absolutely no desire to relive any of that nightmare. Johnny and Joey never got along in life but managed to work together to create one of the greatest and most influential rock & roll bands of all time. It's so tragic that they both lost their lives to illness way too early in life. If you're a Ramones fan, you owe it to yourself to check out both these books.

--Woody

Wild//Tribe - Endless Nights

 


The Dallas/ Fort Worth area of a little state called Texas is known for many things. TV shows, the JFK assassination but more importantly the ever growing Texas Punks scene. One of the forefront bands in that scene was Unit 21. Unit 21 garnered much respect in the Dallas Punk scene as well as traveling abroad and were even able to do tours in Japan. Back a few years ago Unit 21 stopped touring and really doing shows. From the ashes of Unit 21, Wild//Tribe has emerged to keep the crust punk alive in Texas. In November of 2011 Wild//Tribe released their first album, Endless Nights.

From the first song, "Power" to the last track, "Midnight Tribes', Wild//Tribe has one thing in mind, destroy everything. And destroy everything they most certainly do. This six track album makes you want to get in the pit, fuck shit up and destroy everything around you. It's deferentially the soundtrack for the youth of today.

Lyrically Wild//Tribe is just plain pissed off. You know me I love a good set of angry lyrics. My favorite song comes in the form of  the song "Cross Bearer". It's a mix of crust, d-beat drums and brutal vocals.

"Righteous god crippled faith
what's the point of going on living in fear
self-inflicted wound of life
judgement day not for me
follow in the word of god this text of lies
self-inflicted life of shit
righteous god crippled faith
swing your gabble cross bearer
live and die paranoid
gaze upon the masses with such ill content
vile disregard of self
judgement day crippled faith
heavy lies the sacred cross it snaps your back
and the will to leave me be
judgement day every day
cross bearer
take your fucking splintered cross
cross bearer
shove it up your fucking ass
you think you know salvation
but your sight is weak and loss
save the strength your god gives you
to beat your fucking cross
what's the point of going on living in fear
righteous god crippled faith
self-inflicted world of shit
judgement day every day"

For those who love great hardcore punk with bits of metal thrown in, Endless Nights is your album. As the expression goes, "everything is bigger in Texas". When it comes to crust punk, "everything is crustier in Texas".

-Cicatriz

Wild//Tribe goes good with: Unit 21, Tolar, Weak Minds, Life Erased, Tragedy, From Ashes Rise, His Hero Is Gone

Stream and Download here: http://wildtribe.bandcamp.com/album/endless-nights

Pettybone - From Desperate Times Come Radical Minds

As a young man I fully embraced hardcore punk. The music had an energy and aggression that my beloved thrash metal couldn’t fully match and the moral/political stand point sat squarely within my idealistic young beliefs. As with so many musical movements, however, I gradually saw this become watered down and the energy dissipated and with it my interest. It seems though, the true spirit of hardcore has survived and passed me by for the last 20 years or so, until, that is, someone slipped me a copy of this debut album by London punks Pettybone.

Hot holy shit, these four young ladies deliver a sound that encapsulates the rage and aggression of those early hardcore days and wraps it up with a breadth and musicality that many of those early bands would struggle to match. From the opening blast of “Pettybone”, very much a manifesto statement, through the Riot Grrrl meets hardcore of “Le Regard” to the closing semi pastiche of “The Blues Song” this album bristles with unrepentant fury and an almost tangible sense of purpose. Amy’s vocal chords threaten to leap from her throat to escape the strain they’re being put under while Ivona’s guitar work is both brutal yet inventive with a subtle sense of melody running through even the most vitriolic of riffs. Her playing really is the ace in the pack as she offers a real sense of depth and range in her playing that draws from indie as much as it does punk rock. Former Invasion drummer Zel shows herself to be one of the most powerful drummers around as she drives each song with an almost metronomic intensity while bassist Lianna avoids the usual trap of a lot of punk bassist of following the guitars and offers her own melodic counterpoint to the abrasive guitar work.

Where a lot of hardcore can become monotonous over the course of a whole album, Pettybone have the song writing chops to keep the listener gripped and attentive. “Breaking Away” flits from a restrained opening to all out assault to a Melvins style grind halfway through and it’s this ability to chop and change the vibe and the pace that keeps Pettybone one step ahead of the listener. The 20 plus years that have occurred since the original hardcore movement appeared have served the band well as they are able to assimilate the greater spread of influences into their sound. Would any of the original bands have been able to create the dark yet beautiful intro to “Northern Line” that Pettybone craft seamlessly into their acidic, Hell like vision of the world.

One other thing that sets Pettybone apart is their authenticity. One look at their website and it becomes clear that the band walk it like they talk it and their political/humanist viewpoint is at the forefront of their credo. They offer up advice for those in need of help and frequently report on various issues that makes for as compelling reading as the album does listening.

It is little surprise to find that Converge main Kurt Ballou took the helm for mixing this ferocious little beast as the sound is thick yet edgy with the drums hitting right in the solar plexus while the guitars circle like hungry vultures. As much as this album sounds great cranked in a room or in the car, its true subtleties come out on headphones where Ivona’s guitar really shines…that’s if it doesn’t leave your ears bleeding!!!

Gentleman, tether your nuts to your leg as this album threatens to rip them right off. This is as fine and brutal yet varied a hardcore album as I’ve heard in over 20 years and one that has reignited the reasons behind my getting into this kind of music in the first place. Pettybone aren’t just ones to watch, they won’t give you a choice. If there’s any justice they’ll get right in your face until you comply!!!


--Ollie

http://pettybone.blogspot.co.uk/

http://www.damagedonerecords.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=445&zenid=8cb93741480fcd1e77b6ffcd365e92bb

Thrice - Major Minor

There are a lot of bands out there who only get one perfect album in their career. Thrice is not one of those bands. Like a fine wine , Thrice seems to get better with age. It seems they get better every album and constantly offering up something musically refreshing. They are not one to stick to the tried and tested formula of writing a “hit” record they just do it…and damn, they do it well. Their latest album, Major Minor is no exception to the rule that every Thrice album is a good one.  Damn it I think it’s absolutely fantastic.

Major Minor starts off with the track, “Yellow Belly”.  It’s a classic yet refreshing Thrice song.  Dirty laden guitars and a steady drum beat incorporate well with Dustin Kensrue’s passionately howled vocals. This song is Major Minor’s darkest, both lyrically and musically.

“You were built for blessing
But you only make them bleed
You don’t care, you don’t care
And bruises are but shadows
Of the blackness that you breed
But you don’t care. You don’t care
Te light that’s left inside their eyes
Is darkened day by day
But you don’t care, you don’t care
Your presume pulls the color
From the world till all is gray
But you don’t care, you don’t care
‘cause you’re less than half a man
Yellow belly, crimson hands
You will one day reap your reckoning
Maybe then you’ll understand
Your hands are made to comfort
But you don’t care, you don’t care
She’s in the closet praying
“Lord, please get me out of here””

“Words In The Water” is by far my favorite song on this album. This is by far the longest track on the album clocking in at 6:07 but also the most beautiful of songs on the album. You don’t even realize how epic of a song this is do to how well done it is.  Melodic yet heavy, it is the perfect Thrice song.

“Standing knee deep in cold water,
Swiftly moving, somehow I knew I’d
Lost something
Wading waist deep I saw a book there
In the river, waiting for me to find it There.
I tried to read it, neck deep, treading Water,
but the tide, it pulled me out to sea
Then, with the water in my eyes,
The words began to rise from their place.
They were beautiful and dread;
I reached for them and fed on each phrase.
They  were honey on my lips,
But then a bitter twist in my side.
I knew they’d lay me in my grave;
“Is there no one who can save me?” I cried
Sinking, down deep through cold water
And heavy silence,
Shadows stirring in the gloom”


Major Minor made my list as one of the best records of 2011. Really though, check out my top 10 albums of 2011, you’ll see Thrice’s album up there with other albums I deemed “the best” but this is just one man’s opinion. The only way to know for yourself is to experience this album for yourself.











Thrice goes good with: Deftones, Thursday, The Receiving End of Sirens,  The Dear hunter, As Cities Burn, Circa Survive, Brand New, Emery, mewithoutyou, Glassjaw, Finch, The Bled

-Cicatriz

My First Album - Blink 182 - Enema of the State

I remember my first time like it was yesterday. It was the summer of 1999 when it all went down. South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut had just been released and I already celebrated my birthday a few weeks prior. This was about the same time I moved into a new city and started getting an allowance. After saving up three weeks allowance at $5 a week I had enough money to buy my very first CD, Enema of the State by Blink 182.

I was definitely the last of all my friends to buy the album, but I appreciated the album just as much. The infamous cover with the attractive blonde nurse pulling down her blue glove was an image every teenage male knew in 1999. Almost every guy I knew, including yours truly, had a crush on the model known simply as Janine. Years later I would learn her real name was Janine Marie Lindemulder,  an ex-wife of Jesse James and an adult film actress, but I digress.

It was a warm, sunny June day when I walked to Target. Yes, I actually walked like a normal kid unlike some spoiled children today. The Target by my best friend’s house was known to have a relaxed purchase policy for CDs that contained a Parental Advisory sticker. Our walk took my friend Danny and I about 30 minutes.

Once we arrived I immediately went for the entertainment section and found the CD. It was $13.99 and I couldn’t have been happier. That day I learned a very important lesson, it’s all about confidence. As I brought my CD up to the twentysomething cashier in the garden section, she looked at me and said, “Late night, come home.” It took me a second before I replied, “Work sucks, I know” and she gave me a big smile. What were the chances the cashier would also be a Blink 182 fan and that she would quote “All the Small Things” to me?

Needless to say both Danny and I enjoyed rocking out to Blink 182 that afternoon. Green Day may have been the first band I fell in love with, but Enema of the State was the first album I personally bought with my own money. I managed to smuggle the album back home and played it several times before I lost it. Years later, I found my copy, now extremely scratched up, but I still cherished it just as much when I first bought the album. Enema of the State will always bring me great memories. When Blink 182 released their eponymous album in 2003, my interest in the band had passed long before their hiatus in 2005. However, at the time I always regretted not being able to see them live.

During my senior year of high school I was listening to a rock radio station when the DJ said, “Here’s an oldie, but a goodie…Blink 182’s ‘All The Small Things.’” I couldn’t believe it. Did a modern day rock DJ really say that about a song that’s only eight years old? Still, I sang along for 2:48 minutes and couldn’t have been happier. My joy for Blink 182 resurfaced and I became an even bigger fan in college thanks to my friend Billy, who is arguably the biggest Blink 182 fan I know (Sorry, Malcolm).

When Blink 182 reunited and I saw them on tour for the first time in 2009, I told people it was for pure nostalgia. I lied. By that time I was beyond stoked and my passion for the band had been reignited. I have now seen the band several times and can’t wait to see them again. There are certain bands, no matter how old I get, I will always have a place for them in my life and Blink 182 is one of them. Their music still holds up.

Now every time I listen to Enema of the State, the album still sounds fresh to me. It’s one of those albums that defined my youth and taste in music. Right now the song “What’s My Age Again?” really resonates with me, maybe it’s because I’m 23, but I believe it’s just an awesome song about growing up. Even songs like “Adam’s Song,” “The Party Song,” “Anthem,” and of course, “All The Small Things” all hold up. Sure maybe not all of you are “feeling this” pick, but to me it’s “obvious” and will always be a band that keeps me “up all night.”


--Brownstone

The First Album I Ever Bought - Green Day; Dookie by Penfold

Admittedly a good chunk of time has elapsed since I made my first music purchase.  It was the spring of 1994.  I was still years away from obtaining my driver’s license, and perhaps more importantly my music fandom was still in its infancy.  Don’t get me wrong waveriders.  I’ve always loved music, but during that time period I had other things on my plate that sucked up much more of my free time; namely school and computer games.  However, the February release of Green Day’s Dookie apparently caused a shift in my priorities.  I used the word apparently because to be totally honest, I’m not sure what motivated me to actually make this purchase.  I don’t remember having any friends at the time who owned the album (no peer pressure), and I don’t believe I was listening to a lot of alternative music on the radio yet (still stuck on the parent-approved oldies).  Maybe it was fate?  We’ll never know.

Long story short, I managed to persuade my father to drive me down to the local Wallmart.  I seem to recall that it was a nice, sunny day outside.  When we arrived at the store, he accompanied me inside to the electronics department.  I picked out the cassette (for those that don’t know a cassette is a tape based medium that once upon a time was the most technologically advanced form of music storage), took it to the cashier, and paid out a chunk of my hard-earned allowance monies.  The album was officially mine.  Yes!!!  It was time to return home, and this is where the story gets good.

Skip ahead to when my father and I are back in the car.  Hastily, I’ve torn away the plastic wrap encapsulating the cassette.  Wanting a closer look at the captivating album art I’ve removed the liner notes (on reflection I’m not sure if ‘liner notes’ is the proper term since we’re talking about cassettes, but it’s all I’ve got right now).  Yep.  Intricately drawn cover art with tons of characters running around.  Nice.  On an inner page is a photo of Ernie from Sesame Street crowd surfing.  Very Nice!  But wait…what’s that on the other side?   It appeared to be song lyrics.  I began to read them, and that was when the trouble started.  Golly gee I thought.  There sure are a lot of cuss words in those lyrics.  Not only that, but there were also drug references and depictions of violence.  ‘This could be problematic’ said a tinny little voice inside my naïve mind.  Also, I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t doubt that most of the color had quickly drained from my face.  What had I just bought?  Moments later, the worst possible scenario unfolded…

“Hey son, why don’t we listen to that new music of yours?”

Oh no!?!?  Must think quickly, must think quickly!  If my dad heard any of this music he would have turned the car around, drove straight back to the store, and forced me to return my new tape.  That wasn’t going to happen, but what could I say?  I’ve always been honest to a fault, so there was no way I could spin a convincing yarn my father would buy.  What if I just stretched the truth a little bit?

“That’s okay Dad.  I’d rather wait until we get home to listen to my new tape.”

That’s right…home.  Where a pair of headphones would ensure I was the only person hearing this new music.  And guess what?  My ploy worked!  Quick thinking had saved the day.  But that’s not all that happened.  There was something else.  Something important in my personal evolution.  At that moment, a storyteller was born.

Now let’s get down to business.  Story time is fine and dandy, but all of you waveriders out there are really here to find out about new and exciting music.  With that in mind, I’ll get to the matter at hand.  You probably haven’t heard about them, but there is an energetic trio of musicians operating out of Berkeley, California.  They go by the name Green Day and I have a feeling based on their first major label album, Dookie, that these guys might have a future in this business.  Just a feeling mind you.  I could be wrong, but let me explain myself.

Waveriders, I like punk rock.  Yes I do, and I’m not afraid to say it.  I know that there hasn’t been a really popular punk band on the radio or MTV in the past few years, but I believe that the time is right for some quality act to revive interest in punk rock with the youth today.  Grunge is good, but there has to be something else out there to add a little variety to the current musical landscape of the 1990s.  Maybe not a pure punk rock band that sounds like a carbon copy of originators like The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, The Buzzcocks, etc., but a band that builds upon punk’s solid foundation and adds a wrinkle or two.  Perhaps this band could hold onto a lot of the punk snarl but add more pop sensibilities to the mix.  Well folks, that band has arrived.  That band is Green Day.

Dookie is a fourteen song monster of an album!  Seriously, it’s frightening!  It may be the single most infectious collection of music that anyone will hear this entire calendar year.  The first single off the album, “Longview”, is already a massive hit.  And why shouldn’t it be?  You’ve got Mike Dirnt’s extremely memorable bass line and Billie Joe Armstrong’s edgy lyrics coupled with massive choruses boasting ultra-crunchy guitar and explosive drums.   Actually based on the ridiculous strength of all the songs available, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find this album still charting in 1995 or beyond. 

It’s anybody’s guess what the next single will be, but my money is on “Welcome To Paradise”.  This song is all about power.  It’s in your face immediately with muscular guitar riffs, but what really floors me is the out of control locomotive drumming.  One second everything seems normal and the next Tre Cool seems to have grown another couple of appendages for use on lightning quick drum fills.  Awesome!  Another strong contender for the next single has to be “Basket Case”.  The hook on this song is so fantastic I guarantee you won’t be able to get it out of your head for weeks on end.  Pop-punk indeed!  Lastly, if the powers that be at Reprise Records really want to reel in every young person possible, they will release the song “When I Come Around”.  Trust me Reprise Records.  This is a modern day alternative anthem waiting to happen!

Waveriders, punk rock may have taken a break from the limelight in the dark days of the late eighties/early nineties, but rest assured that it’s back thanks to Green Day.  No it’s not your parents’ punk rock.  Green Day is a little poppier, a little more refined, but still bursting at the seams with aggression and attitude to spare.  The musical landscape is about to change.  Pick up a copy of Dookie and be a part of the revolution!

--Penfold

What's Up With the Green Monkey?: Featuring The Green Pajamas, and Sigourney Reverb

About a year or two back, I became enamored with a defunct Seattle indy label called Green Monkey Records.   Issuing a string of cassettes, then vinyl, then CD's in the mid-80's to early '90's, Green Monkey occupied a rare space between the death of the new wave scene and the birth of grunge in Seattle musical history.  And what a label they were!  With a hearty sense of humor and a 6 foot tongue planted firmly in their over-sized cheek, Green Monkey released seemingly incongruent, occasionally random singles and albums from a circus full of performers.   An oxymoron wrapped up in a mad genius of creativity, Green Monkey found some incredibly rare ground by releasing bands that could only be defined as quirk rock, yet were great musicians and took their music very seriously.  Even as they laughed.

Bands like The Icons, The Green Pajamas, The Life, and The Queen Anne's jumped off the retrospective compilation CD that found it's way to my desk.  I became obsessed, scouring eBay for any original releases I could find.  Not every one followed up on the promise hinted at by the cuts on the compilation, but many exceeded it.  A very cool label that did things their own way, completely independent and completely mad.

Imagine my bursting heart of joy then when Tom Dyer, the Wizard of Oz-Monkey wrote to tell me the label was reforming, reissuing some of it's back catalog and, yes, releasing fresh new Green Monkey music.  Had time passed Green Monkey by?  Would they still sound as ironically fresh today as 20+ years ago?  Who could tell.  But I waited, and finally, Green Monkey's first few new releases started crawling through my doors.

The Green Pajamas - The Complete Book of Hours

I've reviewed the Green Pajamas before and their EP, the heartbreaking Red, Red Rose.  I've written about Jeff Kelly before and his solo album, Ash Wednesday.  I kind of knew what to expect here; perfectly constructed post-Beatles pop.  But still, I'd never heard the Green Monkey's 1986 first full album, Book of Hours before.  Here expanded with the inclusion of numerous tracks that appeared on various incarnations of the album as it was released and re-released by record labels around the world, Green Monkey has compiled the "Complete" Book of Hours and set it loose upon an unsuspecting population.  And it's everything I'd hoped it would be.  Definite retro-Beatles hooks mixed with some wry post-Paisley Underground psychedelia, all wrapped up in sweet pastry of unmitigated quirk.   What caught me by surprise was some of the tougher, garage-y aspects of the band, like the charging "Paula", the rough and tumble, garage funk, "Big Surprise" and the spartan, Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers raunch of "Higher than I've Been."

What I did expect was the smooth as fresh ice psych pop perfection of "The First Rains of September,"  the grand orchestrated Beatlesmania of "Under the Observatory," the near-whimsical beauty of "The Night Miss Sundby Died", and the is a slice of timeless pop perfection that is "Ten Thousand Words."  If you're a fan of slightly offbeat, psych pop, you've found a new (old) friend here.

The Green Pajamas - Green Pajama Country

So, after the mournful Red, Red Rose and the release of the retro-looking The Complete Book of Hours, what do the Green Pajamas do for their first new release in 2011?   Another paisley-painted pop dalliance?   A Lennon and McCartney-flavored slice of life disc?  Nope, Jeff Kelly and the crew don 10-gallon cowboy hats, rally up the covered wagons and head out to the wild frontier with Green Pajama Country.  And country it is, full on old-school Hank Williams/Johnny Cash flavored country with twang and strumming and nary a "new country" anthem in sight.  And, probably not to surprisingly, the crew manage to pull it off without it sounding like a gimmick or a fad or a jump onto any imaginary bandwagon.

"Pass Me Another Whiskey" swings with a darkened authentic country tone while still maintaining that classic Green Pajamas vibe.  Sure, it's country but it could just as easily have appeared on any other Green Pajamas album, and I mean that in a good way.  A jangle to the guitar, some beautiful vocals and memorable hooks.  Yep, that the Green Pajamas.  But that all changes immediately with the country guitar twang of "You Had a Way About You."   Now we're full-on into Green Pajama country a place where languid summer days pass while you're passing the time chewing on a piece of grass, settling into the shade of a lone oak tree, and strumming that beat up six-string.  "Honky Tone Girls" keeps the vibe alive with some down home harmonica and footstomping beating going on.  "Last Night was Like the End of the World," alternates again towards more familiar Green PJ's territory but still with a firm western flavor.   And it all works.  I'm not the biggest fan of country or twang, but this all works as a somehow logical next Green PJ's album.  The melodies, the hooks, the pop smarts, it's all still there, covered with a layer of trail dust, a broken heart and a cowboy longing for a warm body and a drink.  Fun stuff.

Sigourney Reverb - Bees in Your Bed

Quirk rock.  Did I say quirk rock?  Yep, I said it.  Did I also mention that I really can't stand most quirk rock?  It just seems to clever for it's own good, to self-conscious in trying to be different.  Too willing to sacrifice good music for unnecessary time changes, strange instrumentation, and random bizarreness.  Sure, it may be created in the spirit of experimental imagination, but that doesn't mean I want to listen to it.

So imagine my surprise when I not only found myself listening to Sigourney Reverb's album, but digging it.  I don't mean just digging it, but really digging it.  Yeah, it's quirk rock, there's no doubt there, but it's amped up and pumped up with a healthy X-like sense of punk urgency and Pixies aggression.  Its doesn't just quirk, it rocks.  It punks.  It actually frightens just a little.  And that's good.

The one-sheet with the CD describes the album as 14 songs, 12 of which have hooks.  Opener "Cabin of Hour Dreams" is one of the non-hook ones, a cacophony of noise and yodeling and stuttering guitars and a garbage disposal beat.  Didn't bring me in but luckily "Who's Yer Muse?" came only 1:44 later and introduced me to the beauty of the band.  This is punk, and with the male-female alternating vocals, I can't help think about X.  It charges, it barely contains itself.  It speeds off to somewhere only they know where, but it does it well, with fun and passion.  And a hook.  Great stuff.  From then on, (once I grasped what the album was about) it's a winner all the way through.

--Racer

The Subways - Young For Eternity

 

“Yeah, well, they may be superstars but they sold out,” she stared at me with agitation in her voice. 

We were at a coffee shop in Berkeley. I glanced up at her from my organic blend and said, “So, what if Green Day went commercial?  They’re a great band with great songwriting.  Now, their music is just more accessible.  What’s wrong with that?  They’ve made a ton of money in the process.  Why should you be so angry about it?”  I stirred the cream, dropped in two packets of Sweet ‘n Low, looked down at the paper cup and took a sip. Still too hot.

She became vociferous, “What do you mean! The stuff is now musical dreck.  It is pablum as sweet as that no calorie quasi-cup of coffee in front of you.  Green Day stood for something.  They were defiant with a message.  They went from being masters of punk to Kings of cash. They lost me in the process.  I’m sure many of their early fans feel the same way and it makes me angry.  I want the real band back - not the FM radio imitation.”  She waited a beat or two.  I thought her throbbing cartoid arteries were going to explode.

I decided to deflect the anger.  “There are other bands that have stayed true to their punk roots.  Why don’t you follow one of them?”  She took a bite of her blueberry scone and did a virtual spit take.  Scone crumbs covered the table.  Her eyes bulged out.  She screamed, “What others?  There are no others.  When Green Day split for cash and stardom there was no one that good.  The whole scene imploded.  I mean, after that, who was there to follow?”  She gulped her  caramel machiatto and quickly downed a cube of scone droppings.

“What about The Subways?” I said.  She looked at me and replied, “BART sucks but if you want we can take it from Rockridge into the city.”  “No, I mean the band called ‘The Subways’.  They’ve stayed true to their punk roots.  Is there a reason you don’t follow them?”  I asked.  She looked at me with a blank stare and replied  “Never heard of them.” I did my virtual spit take as I accidentally overturned a container of half and half on the table.  We both pushed back and stood up to avoid the white waterfall off the edge.  A worker came over with a sponge, mop and rag and immediately cleaned up the table, chairs and floor.

“They’ve got three albums out now, I think - Young for Eternity, All or Nothing and Money & Celebrity. But, if you haven’t heard of them you really should start off with Young for Eternity.  It is their debut album and contains a numerologically significant thirteen tracks, one of which is ‘hidden’.  All of it is written by the band’s guitarist and vocalist Billy Lunn.” I sat back down, took another sip of my coffee and felt the clammy cool of a damp seat wick through the crotch of my jeans.

She grabbed a handful of paper napkins and dried her seat thoroughly before she sat down.  I remained uncomfortable.  She looked at me and said “Are they good like early Green Day?”  I grabbed my smartphone, fired up the music application and loaded the album Young for Eternity. “Here, plug in your headphones and listen.  We’re done here.  Why don’t we just walk down to BART?” I suggested and she agreed.

We grabbed our coffees and she donned her headphones.  She listened intently to the first two or three tracks, then I lost her.  She started hopping, almost head-bashing her way down Telegraph.  By the end of the album she was amped.  She took off the headphones as we reached the BART station.  She handed me my phone and I said, “Well, what do you think?”  She replied, “You’re right. I don’t miss early Green Day anymore.  But, before we get on the train can we go down to Rasputin’s?  There are three albums that I’ve just got to buy.“

- Old School

The Bloody Hollies - Yours Until the Bitter End

 

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

I sat uncomfortably in the confessional.  Beyond the wood and iron door, night fell about the cathedral.  No parishioners walked the pews.  A lone janitor mopped the floors in silent circles.  Candles burned in a solemn stare of remorse as the crucified form of Jesus stared down at me.  A mix of mercy and condemnation in his eyes.

I'm not Catholic, but my transgression was so great I had no other choice. To save my music-loving soul, I needed confession.

"Yes, my son," the priest's disembodied voice returned.  "Tell me your sin."

I was uncomfortable not being able to look into the eyes of my redeemer.  Unable to judge the response in his pupils as I opened up my soul and let my sins pour out.  I wanted to gauge the look of shock and horror in his gaze as I spoke.  As if it would give me a hint as to the penance I faced.  But no.  Just a gated wall separated us.  I could see his darkened, silhouetted form, like an angry apparition.  My judge.  My jury.

"I have committed the cardinal sin of a music writer," I began, my voice catching in my throat. "I have prejudged a band.  Condemned them before I even listened to them."

I heard the priest swallow hard.  "Go on."

"The band is The Bloody Hollies and for reasons I can't quite understand, I wanted to hate them.  I'd heard so much about them, I wanted to dismiss them.  I wanted to stand tall on my perch of righteous musical prejudice and reign down my disgust upon them.  I wanted it so much, I almost could taste my indignation.  I nearly deleted the album before I'd even heard it."

"I see.  But instead, you played it?"

"Yes, I did. God, yes I did!  And suddenly all my preconceived notions were flung out the door.  The world made new sense to me.  Here I thought The Bloody Hollies was another bunch of preening pretenders, another in the long line of bandwagon-jumpers following the trail set by the White Stripes.  Poseurs with a cool name, mining the same bluesy-punk vein.   Fad-flipping pop-punk wannabes with no real balls or chops."

"And they weren't?"

"Hell, no!" (maybe I shouldn't have said that to the priest). "I'm here today to tell you that The Bloody Hollies are the real deal.  Killer rock n roll!  Pure punk thrash and dirt mixed with tainted garage griminess and unadulterated rock passion.  And there's more than that.  These kids know how to play.  Sure the songs might be simple, but they're moved along with fine chops and a drummer that pounds the skins harder than I'd get pounded in the UFC ring.

"But it doesn't stop there.  Mixed in with their rough and raw garage punk are influences of pure classic rock.  Riff that the Kinks would love.  And they got massive pop smarts, and I don't mean Blink 182 or Green Day pop-punk.  Real punk energy with killer choruses, retro-bluesy swagger, and hooks fucking galore driving their punk ditties.  (perhaps I shouldn't have said fuck either.) This is one of my favorite albums of the year."

The priest said nothing.  I could hear his breathing.

"I'm serious father.  You gotta hear some of these killer cuts like "So Grey So Green."  They rage.   I mean they positively rage!  And the vocals!  Oh, my God, don't get me started on the vocals.  This is everything that I love in punkified rock.  Passion. Pure passion baby. The singer strains and reaches and lets his vocal chords groan and screech as he blasts it out.  I can't get enough of it!"

I heard the priest's breathing hasten.  His lips started smacking.  I knew he could feel the passion of The Bloody Hollies music just from my words.  I yanked the mp3 boombox out of my backpack and hit play.  "Dead Letter," raged out, its organ and marching drum intro filling the cathedral.  I saw the janitor drop his mop and look my way.  Suddenly the guitar part kicked in, charging and terrorizing like the best of the Replacements.  Then the song motored into that stuttering breakdown before the chorus.  Drums pounding like revelation.  Bass attacking like the parting of the Red Sea.   I felt the whole confessional shudder under the might of those 3-chord riffs. The priest was swept up in the passion.  I could see his silhouette bouncing in the chanber next to mine.

"Dirty Sex" blasted out next, it's simple, muted southern rock guitar intro exploding into a punkified fury of adrenaline and teenage hormones.   Like the Black Crowes amped up on a case of Red Bull after a fist-fight with the Stooges.

"And then I learned that this was their 5th album.  And still they bring this much passion to their music.  And the surprises, like the use of a violin on one song.  A slide guitar on another.  I can't stop listening . . . "

But I never finished.  The shuddering of the confessional heightened until the walls started to shake apart.  As The Bloody Hollies ripped into the nightmare-terror-cum-prog-epic punk adventure of "Good Night Sleep Tight" the whole thing fell apart.  The confessional walls shattered to the ground. The ceiling collapsed around me.  And there, standing amid the rubble was the priest.  Or pogoing amid the rubble would be a better way to describe it.  His collar ripped off, the priest leaped onto the heap of lumber and iron, his air guitar blaring away with the rumbling riff as the song transformed into the garage-metal terror of "I Dream of Bees."

The priest reached into my backpack and ripped out my vinyl copy of Yours Until the End. (yes, the download was so good I had to run out and buy the vinyl.   I suggest you do the same.)  The priest stood there, staring at my album, holding it tightly in his hands, preciously, as if it was a lost artifact.  When The Bloody Hollies dropped into a vague Clash-like, reggae-infused punk assault of "Leave that Woman Alone" the priest let out a wallop of a primal yell, ripped the sleeves off his white button-down shirt, whipped his hair into a quick Mohawk, and jumped from the rubble and ran off into the night.

Taking my vinyl Yours Until the Bitter End with him.

I'm still trying to track him down.

--Racer

Lapse/Eddie Brock - Split 7”

I got my hands on this split just a few days ago. I am glad I did. Both of these bands come from the Baltimore area and place wickedly fast hardcore. Both of these bands are killer. Killer riffs, the vocals kill and killer fast beats make this under eight minute split awesome….err killer!!

The first half of this slit belongs to the boys in Lapse. They start things off with the track, “Bonehead”. About a minute long, this songs starts off with an intro about aliens and then immediately kicks you in the balls…or lady parts, with such ferocity it feels like they are in your chest. This is one intense minute.

“Fall asleep. Sink subside.
So much to do, such little time.
Work is shit. Still I grind
Fall apart - overtime.”

Flip that son bitch around and it’s Eddie Brock’s time to shine. First of all, let me just say I love Spider-Man and fucking Venom is my favorite character in the series. I love when bands have awesome names.  Anyway the music, it’s as  fucking as awesome as the name. “Pointer Thumb Pinky” starts off their side but I really think the song “Absol” is the song that shines. Brutal, fast and angry. I’m in love.

“Why am I still here because I fear nothing
Negative thoughts plague my mind born
Fucked up life is dry so tell me what your
Life is like when the wall around you burn
And everything you had mixes with the dirt
I do not know what to feel no I do not know
What to say I have never held to faith when
My life is in disarray I know pain I die I’ve
Danced with the devil bit I’ve never seen God
It makes it hard to believe when negativity
Is all you got”

Get on the internet…well stay on the internet and point your mouse to the link below and get this split. Support independent and DIY bands. It’s $4, no excuses!!!

Lapse and Eddie Brock go good with: Infest, ACxDC, Crossed Out, Torn Off, Weekend Nachos, Wicans, Retox, Full Of Hell, Mind Eraser

-Cicatriz

Buy this Split here:  http://lapsenoise.bigcartel.com/product/lapse-eddie-brock-split-7

A Sunday Conversation with End Times

Recently I had the chance to have a Q and A session with the drummer of Dallas, TX Hardcore band END TIMES, Chad Green. Enjoy!

Cicatriz: Introduce yourself to the Waveriders.

Chad Green: My names Chad Green, and I play Drums for END TIMES. Josh Green is our Vocalist. Our Guitarists are Cody Faulkner, and Daniel Schmuck, and Rob Glynn on Bass.

Cicatriz: Describe your band, END TIMES.

Chad Green: END TIMES is a metal influenced hardcore band that was started in late 2007, by myself, our friend Mike, and our guitarist Cody. After a lot of material scratching, member changes, and shows, the 2011 Demo was born to destroy. Despite the countless set backs, and all the frustration we have kept it together. END TIMES is about the end of something old, and the beginning of something new. We play Fast, and Heavy music, so come to a show and get wild.



Cicatriz: Who and what influences you and the band?

Chad Green: Our love for the music most of all. We draw influence from a wide variety of fast, and heavy genres of music. We try do our part to carry the torch, and keep the music going. At the same time we try not to bind ourselves to a specific sound, but yet keep to the roots the best we can. Aside from that, our ideas, and anger towards ourselves, and the world, all the way to that individual at your job you just can't escape from, who everyday you wish you could just erase. We just want to make it work, and put something out there that someone can relate to, and enjoy!

Cicatriz: Describe the recording process of your latest Demo, Demo 2011. Which was recently featured in October's Cicatriz' Six Pack.

Chad Green: Well, the recording process was a long one, but thanks to the patience Daniel Schmuck had we were able to push through, and get it done. We were still in the process of finding full time members while recording the Demo. Cody, and I had the instruments written and ready, but we still had to work on the vocals. Once in full time Josh, and I wrote all of the lyrics, and patterns, worked on tightening them up, and recorded those shorty after the rest of the instruments. We are currently working on our new material. We are happy with our new line up, and the direction in which are headed. We're excited to see whats next!

Cicatriz: Give me your opinon of the current state of music in DFW, more importantly the state of Hardcore.

Chad Green: Things are going very well! We are lucky to have so many great bands in our local city, and state! There are new faces at every show, and what many have worked so hard to keep going for so long in the past is really flourishing. Everyone has their opinion on hardcore and how its going. We all know things are at a constant change, some changes we like, others we don't. The state of hardcore is far from dead that's for sure. No matter what style you want to listen to, or play of it, as long as you do your part to believe in it, and live it then the state of hardcore will always be alive, and well. Whats just a short fad, or phase for one, is a way of life, and a reality for another. Just keep showing up to shows, being supportive, do your part, welcome the new faces, and things will only get better!

Cicatriz: Any last words for the Waveriders?

Chad Green: Lets keep this going, look out for the bands coming out of texas, DEGENERATE, MODERN PAIN, TRUTH, REAL TALK, HUMANERROR, POWER TRIP, ONE AGAINST MANY, CUTTING LOSSES, CAST AWAY, ALTERED MINDS!

Cerebral Ballzy - S/T

Hello Waveriders!

Lately, I have been really hard on music. By this I mean, it has been hard for me to find something I could listen to over and over and not get tired of it. It’s been a while since I have been excited about a traditional punk band. When I say traditional punk, I’m talking about old-school hardcore punk. Bands in the vain of Bad Brains, Black Flag, MDC, Suicidal Tendencies or Minor Threat. Bands that meant something and were not just making punk music to profit off it. The band that has me excited about punk again is the band Cerebral Ballzy. These guys are a total throwback to the in your face bands of the 80’s. Case in point: I work at a tattoo shop with a guy named Troy. This guy hate ALL NEW hardcore bands but he love Cerebral Ballzy. Troy’s a guy who grew up on hardcore, back when it was punks vs. skins and fights broke out at every show. For him to take interest in a new throwback style hardcore band says a lot.

I had a chance to see Cerebral Ballzy live a few weeks ago in Dallas. Talk about an energy filled performance, singer Honor Titus was all over the place. On stage jumping around, hanging off the wall and ceiling mounted speakers and even taking the show to the floor: pushing the crowd out of the way and walking across folding tables (and drunkenly toppling them over and falling to the ground). His stage presence was great. Another thing about his performance I loved was how before each song he would in a drunk slurred stooper  explain what each song was about before starting to play. Stating, “This song’s about pizza!” “This song’s about beer!”, “This song’s about puking!” or “This song’s about pizza, beer, puking and pizza!”. I was enthralled by the boys in Cerebral Ballzy to say the least. I had to pick up their debut Self Titled LP. Boy am I glad I did! Now on to the jams!!

The track “On The Run”, leads things off with a vengeance.  Think Bad Brains inspired ferocity. Not what the Bad Brains with H.R. are now but the intensity they had when they first started out in D.C. “They wanna restrain me, they wanna punish and torture me”, are the opening lyrics to a very powerful song. This is this centuries answer to Black Flag’s “Rise Above”.

My favorite track on this album is the song “Junky For Her”. This is basically a song about being enthralled with a girl and not being able to get enough of her. This is one of those songs that hits home, as being a “junky” for a girl is the only addiction I have ever had, well aside from my need for music.

Other standout track on this album are: “Sk8 All Day” (this song’s about skateboarding), “Cutting Class” (this song’s about school) and “Underage Drink Forever” (a bonus track about beer).

Cerebral Ballzy are one of the up and coming punk bands to be aware of. They have already garnered significant attention after being featured on Cartoon Network’s “Adult Swim” and having just gotten off a tour with Punk Icon, Keith Morris’ Off! And Justin Pearson’s Retox. Do yourself a favor and pick up Cerebral Ballzy’s debut LP and get your punk ass to a show.

Cerebral Ballzy goes good with: Bad Brains, Suicidal Tendencies, Black Flag, Fucked Up, Off!, Circle Jerks, Fear, Youth Brigade

-Cicatriz

Revenge of the Quick Ripple Bursts - Vinyl Punk Edition; Featuring Fonzarelli, Luther, Restorations, Tin Armor, and Sharks Come Cruising

Fonzarelli – Last Chance Summer Dance

Tsurumi Records keeps on expanding and keeps on releasing one quality punk release after the next.  Spinning on the turntable today, in beautiful royal blue wax, is their latest Jack Endino produced platter, Fonzarelli, and their debut Last Chance Summer Dance.  And let me say, this definitely won’t be Fonzarelli’s last chance.  Packing in more hooks than you could find at a bass fishing tournament, and marrying those hooks to Endino’s punchy production, Last Chance Summer Dance is a glorious celebration of pop punk in all it’s snotty glory.  “Halfway Dead” is simply a gem of the genre while “Defenseless” is a boppy punk party.  But before you think you can pigeonhole these guys as post-Green Day popsters, they unleash a manic frenzy of “Japanese Rock” on you and you quickly realize that their punk muse ain’t afraid to experiment and play. 

Vocals are a touch on the whiny side for me, but that’s my only minor complaint, and in truth, when they marry their touch of snot to a song with the skill and chops like “Baby Me Too,” I realize that things really are just perfect.  Pop punk perfect.  Like all Tsurumi releases, a full CD of the album is included inside, and the package is first-class all the way.  Can’t wait to see what they comes out with next.

 Tsurumi Fonzarelli page

Luther – Siblings & Sevens

Black Numbers is another upstart punk label, --like Tsurumi—that has captured my attention with quality alt-punk releases like the sensational PJ Bond release last year.  Luther is their latest find, a quartet from Philadelphia, and let’s cut to chase; Black Numbers keeps their winning streak alive.   Back in my old radio days, The Replacements burst from out of nowhere, ramrodding the intensity of punk rock with the sincerity of mid-American roots music, and now Luther picks up the mantle and runs with it.  Starting with a delicate passage of acoustic guitar and vocals, Luther explode into the intensity of their post-hardcore pop fury with chopping guitars and pulverizing rhythm work.  And from there there’s no stopping them.

Replacements earnestness is here in spades, forming the core for a musculature of emo-hardcore and skin of pop hooks.  Never does this sound forced, but purely natural.  Aggression is there but tempered by true songcraft.   Nicely done.

Each song on this 7-song EP satisfies in its own way, without ever sounding repetitive or redundant, but I’ll give a special nod to “There’s Always Money . . . “ with its chugging bass and buzzsaw guitar blitz.  I particularly dig the little hiccups of harmony vocals.  All this and sparkling marbled yellow vinyl to boot.  Worth checking out.

 http://blacknumbers.limitedpressing.com/products/11777

Restorations – S/T

Seems like I’m giving as much love to labels today as I am the bands, and that’s good. Without quality labels, much of this music would never see the light of day.  One thing I love is when a label has shown such a keen eye for talent that I can pick up almost any release and know what to expect.  That’s not to say they all sound the same, but genre’s seem to be understood and quality is expected.  That’s what I get from Tsurumi, Black Numbers, and another punk upstart label, Tiny Engines. 

Last year, I had the pleasure of being introduced to Restorations by way of their debut EP and was immediately drawn to their sound which occupied a niche firmly planted between the aggression of hard core, the earnestness of mid-western roots rock, and the jangly, shoegazing, intelligentsia of indy rock, Restorations sounded unlike any other band I’d heard in quite some time.  With a rough-hewn, leather-bent to the vocals, delicate acoustic guitars, and an impending sense of danger, as if any song could explode at any second.  Now on their debut full-length, Restorations have built upon that base and added a quantum leap in maturity and songwriting to create a rootsy-cum punk- cum shoegazing masterpiece.  Each song plays out like a mini roots punk-gothic epic, unfolding at its own leisurely pace, led in by a gentle strum or languishing pick.  But the danger is always there, hiding, waiting.   Whether or not each song explodes or not isn’t as important as the drama they create, the dark clouds that gather over the wind-swept fields of grain.  The demon about to possess the scarecrow.  Moving, effective stuff.

http://restorations.bandcamp.com/

Tin Armor – Life of Abundance

Toning down the punk side of mid-western aggro pop, Tin Armor instead turn up the alt-country vibe to unleash a panorama of earnest-alt country power pop.  Talk about a step in maturity!  Compared to their last release this is a band that has grown by leaps and bounds, fortunately never leaving their passion behind.Beginning with the piano-led title ballad, Tin Armor waste no time digging into their country roots with the plain-rockin’ “Plain Limbs” and the piano rocker “Inside Days.”  In fact, it’s their liberal use of piano to lead the tracks that makes them stand out from other mid-western post-punk country rockers out there.    None of that is to say that the guitars are missing and don’t contribute to the whole, as they do, like the whole guitar outro to “Inside Days,” but it was the play off the early piano verses that really make that guitar burst stand out.   Dig that jazzy bass-led intro to “Just So I Know It.”  Imagine a fusion of Wilco and Death Cab for Cutie, and you won’t be wrong.  By far my favorite cut on the album.  If that interests you, jump on board.

Seems like there’s an abundance of sincere-roots rockers out there these days, keeping punk ethos alive in new and different ways.  Add Tin Armor to that list, but add them to the top.

Album available for "name your price" at http://tinarmor.bandcamp.com/

Sharks Come Cruising – A Past We Forget That We Need to Know

Now, let’s talk about roots!  Recently, Pope and I have been enamored by the Dropkick Murphys side projects like Everybody Out! and Rick Barton and the Shadowblasters, where traditional folk roots get married to the passion of punk with explosive results.  Listening to those albums over and over could never have prepared me for the furious folk-punk eruption of Sharks Come Cruising.

Coming from Newport RI, an old fishing, sailing, and pirating port, SCC take folk punk one step beyond.  Imagine a pirate ship (or merchant ship for that matter) full of sweaty, unbathed, homesick sailors making port, rampaging into the closest local pub, swilling back pints of ale by the barrelfull and erupting into furious song, and you’ll get an idea of SCC’s roots.  This is drinking, run-soaked, lost sailor ditties, revved up and ready to be consumed by a new generation.  Vocals are salt-soaked, whiskey brogued spittles of original ale-swinging classics and old-time, traditional shanties.  Water-soaked floor boards creak and squeak under foot as the sailors proceed to pluck on acoustics, violins, percussion and the occasional squeezebox, singing in gang-unison to their hearts lament. 

And it’s fantastic!  I can only imagine being in a Newport bar while these cats lay the homesick blues down.  You can’t not get drunk to this music.  Even if you’re not drinking, the fumes of ale coming off the lyrics will wrap you up in an intoxicating blend of trad New England sailors folk and immediate punk energy.   I saw that these cats play a few shows with Restorations.  Yep, that’d be a winner.

As for the songs here, no need to point out highlights.  It’s all good.  Just open a bottle of your favorite whatever, grab your best mates, and imagine that glorious return to soil after months out to sea.  Spill your beer, kiss your best girl or the one you’re with, dream of home, and prepare for the months out at sea still to come.

It really is that good. 

--Racer

http://www.sharkscomecruisin.com/fr_welcomeaboard.cfm