Blogcritics Author: Michele Catalano

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

From the Music Vault: NoMeansNo

Michele Catalano — Wed, 28 Jun 2006 01:29:47 EDT

Ninth in a series of my (M) and my co-blogger's (T) musings on our music collection.Today's selection:NoMeansNo -- Why Do They Call Me Mr. Happy?Punk? Yea definitely punk. But there’s so much more going on here. There’s heavy doses of funky jazz and funky doses of heavy metal. There’s weird timing changes, jagged rhythms and lyrics that seemed to have been penned by someone who has traveled through Dante’s circles of hell while on acid. I’m not gonna lie here. This is some weird shit. It’s an acquired taste. This is not an album to listen to casually in the car or while doing some other work. Maybe later on, after you’ve studied it and buried yourself in it and picked up every single nuance within. But your first couple of listens? Devote yourself to it. Just you and this album. In the dark. With headphones. Turn off the rest of your life and submerge yourself in the music and words. You need to become one with this. And here’s the thing about this album: you either get it or you don’t. There’s no in between. Either your mind completely rejects it or your soul clings to every note. So, why do they call me Mr. Happy? Takes you the whole album to find out the answer to that. And it’s worth the trip to get to that point. It’s like you are on a boat -- no, a ship, a huge ship that’s out in the middle of vast, churning, dark waters. Think Poseidon Adventure. Not Titanic. Leonardo DiCaprio has no place here. No, we’re talking Ernest Borgnine and Richard Dawson as your captains. And you’re Mr. Happy. Why? Some little kid asks you why they call you that. And then the ship starts rocking. The ocean rises and falls, rises and falls, and one minute you’re partying, thinking you’re on top of the world and then it all crashes and you’re upside down and everything has gone to hell and you wonder if the devil has boarded this ship and is just having some fun with you. Your life flashes before your eyes and every dark secret spills forth, every ounce of bleak emotion you ever experienced -- all the sadness, depression, despair, regret, hatred, fear -- surrounds you like dark water but you push through all that, come up for air, fight off flying glass and fire and zombies eating human flesh and screaming people yelling at you to save them and you just kick all that out of the way, because you can. You can. You get to the end, you see the light and you’re standing on the deck and breathing in fresh air and that little kid is there and asks you: Why do they call me Mr. Happy? Because. I’m. So. Fucking. Smart. - (M)NoMeansNo. Ok. I'm gonna start this off by saying I have a bias for this album. This is when I was really playing bass and getting tired of everyone bagging on bass players. "Why couldn't they stand out more? Why couldn't they be more up front? Bass players suck." Go to hell. We hold this thing together if you haven't got it yet. At the same time as this, there was also a similar thing going on with drummers. Although I don't really know how that works, but whatever. "Why couldn't drummers stand out? Why couldn't they twirl their sticks more?" Oh. Go to hell on that one.So we as bass players and drummers were feeling a little down. So we went to a nomeansno show. Not cause we needed cheering up. But, cause we were bored.nomeansno came out. Like saying to everyone "We made this fucking band. Me and my brother. You wanna see what a fucking drummer and bass player can do? Hold on cause here we go." Man! This album was blasted with things. Insane bass riffs, insane drum rolls, insane guitar riffs, insane lyrics, insane everything. This was their pinnacle. This is why they struggled all those years. To put this out and say "Fuck you. Bassists and drummers are people, too."Not only that, when I saw this tour, there was something different about the set. Hmm. Is that gonna be there the whole time? The second drums? Shouldn't someone move that? No. Two drummers. It was staying. They were gonna blow shit out with this tour. Two drummers. Wow. All I can remember is my breath being sucked out of me during "The River." To this day, I will never forget the passion on his face as he sang -- wait, not sang, almost cried, as one drummer just nailed the double bass drums as hard as he could while Rob's brother just filled in and added drums and more bass drums. The place was dropped. Faces were dropped as well as jaws. The pit stopped and we just watched and tried to get air. They didn't care. You asked why they were called Mr. Happy? They answered. They played the whole album as we sat there and watched in shock and awe.This was amazing.This was something to remember forever. Walking up to them at the end of the show, thanking them for the set. Them looking at me and saying, "It was no big deal. You are welcome."But is was a big deal.This was an album to remember. - (T)NoMeansNo Cats, Sex and Nazis NoMeansNo - The RiverNoMeansNo - I Need YouNoMeansNo - Machine

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

A Tribute To Aaron Spelling

Michele Catalano — Mon, 26 Jun 2006 16:03:03 EDT

A tribute to the late, great, Aaron Spelling from both myself (M) and my co-blogger (T).A good man has shuffled off his mortal coil this week. So today is officially Aaron Spelling Tribute Day!Next time you make a reference to Tattoo yelling at some plane, think of this man. For he was the one who put that reference in your mind. Hats off to Aaron Spelling today and flags at half mast. Our leader of campy TV and cleavage has died. No more car chases. No more gun toting chicks with their tits hanging out. No more midget asking if he was doing "okay" to his boss.The car has broken down. The chicks have buttoned up their shirts and put their guns away. The midget has gone home.Aaron SpellingApril 22, 1923 - June 23, 2006What to say about this man? A truly nice man who grew up telling stories so as not to get his ass beat walking home from school everyday. Sure, it's nothing that I would have done, but since he was a multi-millionare and I am just a scarred-up punk rocker. I am gonna say maybe talking instead of fighting was a better way to do this thing called life.I don't know.All I know is this man's motto in life was that if someone came up to talk to him he would stop and listen. 'Cause they were the ones who made him who he was. And they deserve his attention.But anyways. Today I am gonna pay tribute to my favorite show of his.Beverly Hills 90120Or was it 90210....Always got that mixed up. I loved this show. I was in college when this show started. And yes, community college is still college, thank you very much. Actually, that might not be true. But anyways, I started watching this when I was in college. Oh yeah. Party on turtle. But really. It was on at like 8 on Tuesdays. We would sit around each night and wait for the sun to come up 'til that one day of the week it came on. That damn intro song made everyone run to the fridge to grab two more beers 'cause this might be the one Donna gets some. C'mon, Donna give it up this time. C'mon. Donna. This virginity thing was overrated. C'mon, Donna. Spread those legs for David. I'm running out of beer and it looks like he is about to blow a gasket if he doesn't get some sweet lovin' soon.Dylan. Rebel-hard and smooth. Alcoholic who had stolen the heart of Brenda. A man who lived what he spoke. When he said a man doesn't talk about his sexual conquests, I kinda had to look at myself and ask myself if I was a man. His sex might have been dull if he didn't want to talk about it. For me it was like "Hey dude! She can put her ankles behind her back!" Yeah, I'm a pig, I know. But Dylan stuck to his word. He had stopped drinking before 15. He was cool as ice. I never really understood how you could become a problem drinker before 25. I mean, I drank since 12, but I never had any realization that I had a problem til 29 or 30. He caught it right away. He had a problem. Vodka in little bottles, Brenda, and his attitude. That was what would do him in. Brandon. Always looking on. Giving his advice of what to do right and how you did it wrong. This guy always had the answers. Like a sad parent, he would always just look on, thinking "I told you this would happen." Not the most exciting character on the show, but he was the rock. Brandon held this group together. Catfights happen and blood would be spilled, but someone has to keep their cool when the shit comes down. Where do you go and who do you look to? Brandon. The only time he would raise his voice was when he was pulling you out of your car after you were so drunk you flipped it and the gas was about to ignite the car.All of the characters on that show had so many issues and flaws. The show was magic. Pure magic.It was like telling you a life story. Inviting you in on their exciting lives while you couldn't be bothered to get off the sofa to get another beer. This show also had one of the greatest characters of all time in it. Joe E. Tata as Nat Bussichio! I defy any of you to tell me you didn't laugh when that name hit the screen. His last name was Tata! Oh, that was funny. Tata. He was Brandon's mentor. The man who swooped in when everything was down and offered a sentence or two while serving you apple pie. That was Nat. Did I tell you his last name was Tata?Plus the parents in their were pretty cool, too.All they needed was a character named Michele with a thick Long Island accent and this show would be annointed by god himself as not "Cool", but "God-Like Cool." God does that. He commands the Emmys.An entire show about teenage sex, guns, alcohol, rebels, motorcycles, breaking and entiring, rap music, and cool haircuts.Gold.So thank you, Aaron. That was a great show that I will always remember. So today, if you hear about his death and think he really didn't matter? Think again. He did matter. Donna finally had sex, Tattoo pointed at the plane, and Starsky and Hutch had a really cool car, and you had a smile on his face.Thank Aaron Spelling.Thank you Aaron.RIP -TGeez. Aaron Spelling. Look at the list of everything he’s ever done and you can really forgive the guy for forcing Tori “Mother, May I Sleep With Danger” Spelling on all of us. I mean, this guy was responsible for the bulk of my television viewing for most of my life.Yea, I’m into cheesy TV. Hey, we all have our guilty pleasures. At least mine doesn’t involve a girl going blind on a prairie. I’m going over the list of everything Aaron Spelling was involved in and man, if I didn’t feel sad and humbled to begin with, this sure put me over the edge. Did you know he produced the classic tv movie Boy in the Plastic Bubble? Yeah, dude. John Travolta in a bubble. A story of survival and love in which Travolta and his girl next door ride off on a horse at the end. Sap. Cheese. Campiness. The Aaron Spelling hallmarks.Jesus. This guy was responsible for more than half my daydreams, fantasies, and ridiculous life goals. I wanted to be a crime fighter with hair like Jill Monroe. I wanted to be as cool as Julie Barnes and as smooth as Linc Hayes. I wanted to sail on the Love Boat and find romance and exchange witty banter with the clever, hip bartender. I wanted to hang out with Huggy Bear and hmm.....no, we're gonna stop there. You really don't need to know what my version of Fantasy Island was like. Just remember that was the late '70s. I was doing a lot of drugs and I can't be held responsible for what may have transpired in my head between the time Tattoo yelled "da plane" and the time I had become a morphed version of Farrah Fawcett and Peggy Lipton, all sultry hair and big tits, yet incredibly cool and smart, and Jim Morrison was sent to my room, gift wrapped. Spelling was a master of overdramatic cheese. His TV movies had titles like Little Ladies of the Night and One of My Wives is Missing. You could bet your last dollar that if there was a movie of the week coming on with a title like Satan's School for Girls I was canceling my evening plans to sit in front of the TV and enjoy some Aaron Spelling schlock. S.W.A.T. Let's talk about S.W.A.T. I saw this show and thought, this is what I want to do. I want to dress in black and carry an arsenal of weapons around. We all did. So that's why we started playing S.W.A.T. at night instead of sitting in front of 7-11 making fun of hippies. We would all just scatter through backyards, chasing after each other, pretend weapons in hand. The fun wasn't really in catching anyone. It was in that one moment when you put your back up against the side of a house and held out your arm as if you were really packing and peeked stealthily around the corner, looking for a "bad guy." Yeah! Jackpot! Some kid from down the block was standing right there and you shoved the fake gun in his face and said...what? We were like 13 and 14. We weren't about to make fake gun sounds. So we did the next best thing. We just clocked each other upside the head with our hand as if it were the butt of a gun. Hell, we had no idea what S.W.A.T. people really did. We just knew that it looked really cool on tv. And we liked hitting each other in the head. Hey, it was more fun than ridiculing hippies. Because the hippies never even tried to come back at us. But the kids we played S.W.A.T. with? They would clock you right back in the head. Man, that was fun. Thank you, Aaron Spelling. Without you, I probably wouldn't have that permanent bump right at the base of my head. Thank you, Mr. Spelling for all the campy, sexy, cheesy, sappy TV shows and movies you gave us. Without you, my teenage-years would be devoid of concussions and bizarre fantasies about what Starsky and Hutch did when the cameras weren't rolling and I wouldn't have ever wondered about simulated sex between a guy in a plastic bubble and his next door neighbor. For all you contributed to American culture, for all your hard work at ramping up the cheese factor on my tv screen, for your giving Shannon Doherty a place to show off her bitchiness and Heather Locklear a place to show off her legs, for all the lingo I picked up watching the Mod Squad and the Love Boat scenarios that played out inside my head during various acid trips, I salute you and thank you. RIP, Aaron Spelling. -MTheme songs:90210S.W.A.T.Charlie's AngelsLove Boat (by Reel Big Fish)Fantasy Island Starsky and Hutch

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

The 100 Best Punk Songs, 54-61

Michele Catalano — Fri, 9 Jun 2006 01:27:17 EDT

The list moves on to the second half. My co-blogger (T) and myself (M) come up with eight more this evening. 54. Dwarves - "Let’s Fuck"So I’m sitting here thinking about doing a list of the most offensive punk songs. And this immediately comes to mind. And then I think, hey this should be on the 100 list too because really, the Dwarves need to be represented and what better way to do that with a song that has the lyrics I'm made of rubber/You're made of glue/I wanna stick my fucking cock inside of you? I’m planning on using this song to freak out my neighbors next time they bang that fucking basketball in the driveway at 2am. -M55. Circle Jerks - "Back Against the Wall"A cool song about defiance and being brought down by the man and the impotence of trying to fight back. Well, when you’re 18 it’s a cool thing to sing about because you have the whole emotion of “yea, dude, right on!” behind it. When you’re 43, it’s a cool song to sing because it reminds you what it was like to be 18 and hear that breaking glass sound for the first time; it lets you feel that fuck you and everything you stand for attitude surge up in your bloodstream again when the song comes on. At least for a minute or two before you realize dinner is burning on the stove and the dog ate your kid’s homework. -M56. Sick of it All - "Potential for a Fall"This list is so heavy with west coast bands, I had to get some east side representation going on. This is NY Hardcore. A voice as mean as the South Bronx, music heavy as Hell’s Kitchen. Whatever that means. I’m just trying to make an analogy here. This is part punk, part metal, all aggression. I think it’s about materialism, but really, sometimes it’s just about needing the right kind of music to play when you’re feeling all aggro. -M57. H2O - "Faster Than the World" Well yea, you had to see this coming. And hey, another NYC band! A great song about a band being out on the road. Typical H2O speed combined with a catchy riff, and it passes my “is this song repeatable?” test with a 5, meaning I listened to this song five times in a row one day while playing dodge-and-weave with tractor trailers on the Long Island Expressway. And if a song can make someone in a little Mazda feel invincible against those 18 wheelers, then rock on. -M 58. Clutch - "Shogun Named Marcus" Is this metal? Is it punk? What the fuck comes out of Iowa? This is like angry corn farmer music. "I will pick your corn as long as I can stick an ear so deep in you that you will hear Orville Redenbacher's dead voice whispering in your ear." Just saying, whispering, "You did wrong boy. And I hope you enjoy my corn!" This is angry music and I'm not gonna fool you. I have no fucking idea what this meant. Something about shoguns and taxes and Feds and geishas and corn coming out of your ass like like a god damn explosion of popcorning goodness, knives and sex in a warehouse. With chickens hanging around. Just watching.But I may be wrong.But chickens watching you having sex with a Geisha while not paying your taxes is a kinda cool thought.Or maybe that's just me. -T(Unumbered) Clutch - Shogun Named MarcusListen. I have no idea what he’s talking about with his review of this song. Maybe he doesn’t either. I know he digs it, 'cause Clutch is sort of how we met, but dude....corn fucking? Seriously? I’m going to do the same song, just so none of you think this is really about Orville Redenbacher porn.This song is all bass and heaviness and gritty voice singing about ummm...hari kari and emperors and sourmash and new world samurai. It’s got a kick ass groove and the lyrics are fun to sing and/or decipher and it really doesn’t matter what they are saying because, dude, this band -- and this song -- will kick your ass from here to the fucking cornfields of Iowa and you’ll never know what hit you. But trust me, it won’t be a fucking corn on the cob up your ass. I swear. -M59. Murphys Law - "Care Bear" Ok. Now that I'm done fucking around and talking about sticking corn up someone's ass with Orville's ghost floating around, let's get to the shit. This was a song about a party gone wrong and someone just wanting to help. Fucking care bear. I just broke a bottle. I just broke some glass. This fucker moves. New York hardcore at it's best. Float your flags and ink your skin. I don't care. This song was cool. These guys were fun. All they wanted to do was drink beer, smoke dope and play. Sweat the beer out of you from the night before and wash the memories away with another beer. Cause we are not stopping. Cause you gotta have fun. In the sun. Yeah you gotta have fun! fun! A great song from a band that really didn't give a fuck anymore except about not being able to see straight. And I don't even think they wanted to do that. That's Murphy's Law.*disclaimer - I know the fun lyrics were from another song -T60. Cro Mags - "We Gotta Know" Could anyone understand the lyrics? I couldn't. I know I'm almost deaf and shit, but this was a long time ago when I could hear. I couldn't get it. Pre H2O. Pre Sick Of It All. Pre Gorilla Biscuits. Pre CIV. This was shit that went nuts. Or made us nuts. This came out before all the skinhead shit took hold in California. Back when we tried to figure out what gang people were in by their fucking shoelaces on the god damn Doc Martins. Fucking shoelaces. I'm fucking colorblind god dammit. Gimmie a fucking break.Hey kids, this was life. Things happen. Back when I learned that you duck your head a bit when someone is diving on you. Push your head into the back of a bigger guy and let him take it. Fuck man, my inner mouth is cut up with so many lessons of when i was learning. It screams at me to duck when the dog jumps on me night. Still to this day. This was this song. Stand or fall. -T61. CIV - "Set Your Goals" Jesus Christ another fucking New York hardcore band. Well I did ask Michele for East Coast bands and really, after you get out of glam and get out of Ramones, hardcore really takes over. You New Yorkers are an angry lot. Hey dude, I grew up on the west coast, so hearing this song kinda made me think, "Man they are pissed off." Basically an inspirational song but an angry one. Fuck. Remind me not to order a pizza next time I'm New York. The "Double Double Pepperoni with Extra Anger" sounds like too much for me. But it is a cool song that sets off a cool album. Sure it's short, but really man, how much can you take? -T

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

World Cup Fever! Sort Of

Michele Catalano — Thu, 8 Jun 2006 17:37:28 EDT

What the hell do I know about soccer? Oh, I'm sorry. FOOTBALL. Honestly, I don't know much except that every four years I pretend to have this great interest in FOOTBALL and I go all World Cup crazy. That is, until America gets its collective ass handed to it and I go back to watching baseball like a good American.I do know enough about football to carry on a decent conversation. Or get one started. Whenever someone mentions the sport, I just say, in no particular order: Pele! Hooligans! Maradona! And depending on who you are talking to, that last one might get you a smack in the head, especially if you follow it up with the phrase "Hand of God!" Which I often do because, hey, if you're gonna get yourself all excited about a sports tournament your team really has no chance of winning, you might as well get some good, sporting fun out of it by pissing some people off.See, I think the World Cup is nothing more than a good excuse for nation hating. It's no longer politically correct to just bag on other countries for no good reason. So we use football as an excuse to say things like "Mexico couldn't play their way out of a fucking piñata!" or "England sucks!" Okay, maybe we say that one anyhow. No offense, Brits. It's just the way it is. Kinda like a Mods/Rockers thing, you know? Friendly rivalry. Yeah, friendly.I mean, look at all the countries we get to make up chants about. Trinidad and Tobago! Ghana! Iran! Oh, hell yeah. We're gonna go Ayatollah on your ass, Iran! See? See how easy that is? Think of it as misplaced national pride. Where else are you gonna shout USA! USA! USA! these days without someone thinking Karl Rove gave you eight bucks and a candy bar to say that?See, World Cup is for everyone. It works out great for people who measure their patriotism by bumper stickers because they can drape themselves in a flag and just call it football frenzy. And it also works out for people who have been kinda down on the state of the union since, oh, November 2004, because they can wave a flag and shout America, hell yeah! without feeling like they are betraying their ideals. It's all about the soccer ball. Uh, sorry. The football.So I'm looking forward to World Cup 2006. I think I still have a Pele shirt from that Giants Stadium gig in 1977. I'm brushing up on my "let's mock the cockney accent" phrases. I've been practicing saying the word "hooligan" several times a day (hey, it's a fun word). I have sharpened my "hand of god" conversation starter so that I can ignite a heated argument in under five seconds. I've got a bunch of UK punk songs about football loaded up and ready to go.See, it doesn't take much to feel part of the action. Say it with me. Pele! Hooligans! Maradona! ENGLAND SUCKS!Bring it on.And here are two songs to start you off. The Business - MaradonaBouncing Souls - Ole!

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

From the Music Vault: Mr. Bungle

Michele Catalano — Thu, 8 Jun 2006 16:07:56 EDT

In today's album review, we depart a bit from the usual punk rock -- something a little different for you all.Mr. Bungle: S/T (T) and California (M) Mr. Bungle. A band from somewhere like Modesto? Or Stockton? Or some other Northern California town? They are from where? You have to remember, I really hated the stupid stage antic shit that some of these bands did. Lighting shit on fire -- boring. Breaking things -- boring. But wearing masks and drinking urine on stage? Well fuck, dude. That's kinda new.I will be honest with you. I didn't like this for a long time. It was too, well, gimmicky type shit. It didn't do anything for me and I didn't like it. I don't really want to sit around and wait for a kick. I wanted it now. But I listened to it again. Like three months later in the car of some burned out punk rocker. His car was decorated in skeletons and I was drinking a Pabst. He lectured me on how cool this band was.So I listened.Heading to the show, it's kinda cool if you get to know the sound before you walk in the door. Hey, you gotta do it.This was Mr. Bungle. Weird fast, slow like a circus on fire with all the clowns running out with bottles of gin. Bondage gear, clowns, and midgets. Like something out of a nightmare, they came at you.This was sweat and beer and gin and...piss? This shit was something when I first heard it, I thought was evil clown music. Fuck man, look at the inlay. It's dead drunken dying clowns. What the fuck was that all about? From the second this starts, you feel as if you are in a video game hyped on speed playing the pinball game that would save the world. Cause you had a pocket of quarters. The fucking circus needed saving. Only you can save it. One more quarter. You can save it.The album is loaded with samples. Things that make you think you heard it before... but from where? Samples I had to ask Michele about to find where they came from. Things I knew, but were all in a drug induced haze and couldn't remember. "That was a pinball machine, right?"All the samples were old video games and pinball machines. Every time you heard this album, you remembered the old times of playing those games, smoking a cigarette, looking over your shoulder to watch for the security guard as you made that last kill in the game you were playing. This album goes on the record for having the most video game and pinball machine samples of anything I have heard before.I really can't say this rocks because it's just too out there to define. It is a great fucking album, don't get me wrong, but the insanity of it just makes me pull back and wonder why.Like people of the '80s sit around and think of Frank Zappa. What they missed. How great he was. He was a genius they missed. Much like that, soon people will see what they missed in Mr. Bungle.Plus they sing about the girls of porn. Which is kinda cool. (T)Girls of Porn Stubb (A Dub) Squeeze Me, MacaroniLet me preface this by saying that I am a huge fan of anything Mike Patton, and my opinion on all things Patton related, be it Faith No More or Mr. Bungle or any of the myriad other bands/projects he has been a part of, is all a bit biased. If I had to choose my favorite Patton related piece of work -- and that's really like asking a parent to choose a favorite child -- I would have to go with California. Yeah, FNM's Angel Dust forces some tough competition but hey, if you asked me today, I'd tell you I like my daughter better than my son (the mouth of a 13-year old boy can be exasperating). You caught me on a California kind of day.This is way different from the previous Bungle efforts. It's polished, it's smooth, and it's not as experimental or noisy or juvenile. You'll get no "Squeeze Me, Macaroni" here. Instead, you get lyrics that have matured and musical composition that has flourished. Yeah, you still have a lot of that patented Bungle weirdness/noise, but California is like half mind fuck, where the band stars and shows off a plethora of amazing sounds and rhythms, and half lounge music, where Patton's voice is a musical instrument itself. While some say this is Bungle's most accessible album, that doesn't mean much here. That's like saying Mulholland Drive is David Lynch's easiest to understand work. Just because it has more melody and more instrumentation and reaches a wider audience, doesn't mean it's going to be any less confusing to a non-Mr. Bungle fan. Ok, so you are in this boat. Think Willy Wonka's boat. That ride where everything is sweet and sugary and then turns into a speeding nightmare. That's California. It is all bar room and cigar smoke and just when you are about to lean back in your chair and sip your bourbon, the ride gets noisy and disjointed and you hold onto your seat as it shakes.Then it's back to a slow ride and you're suddenly thinking of red lipstick and black garters and maybe you're going to finish up this song and then go masturbate to a magazine cover. But then the boat shakes you up again and it's hands and arms inside the ride at all times. It shakes your brain and rattles your skull and "Golem II" and "Holy Filament" play and make you think, what kind of crackhead nightmare is this? You're almost tempted to jump out of the boat, but something about the calliope-like sound makes you hang on, even if the sound is giving you flashbacks to some tenth grade mescaline trip at an amusement park.Then you see the light at the end of the tunnel, and the boat is bumping its way over there with the lyrics What would they say/If you went up in smoke?/If I dug you up/And made soup of your bones? playing in your ear and you think, damn this has been one crazy ride. Was it fun? Was it scary? A little of both? Maybe I should ride it again and be sure. And you get back on the boat and you notice little things about the ride you didn't notice the first time and each subsequent turn on the boat makes you appreciate the ride more fully, makes you see all the noises and imagery and soft sounds and full range of emotions come together to make one pretty surreal, yet fulfilling, experience. (M)Retrovertigo Pink Cigarette None of Them Knew They Were Robots

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

100 Best Punk Songs 47-53

Michele Catalano — Wed, 7 Jun 2006 09:43:52 EDT

Slowly but surely, my co-blogger (T) and myself (M) are getting there. Halfway done!47. Youth Brigade - "Sink With California" I really don't care where you're from. I don't really care what language you speak. And the band isn't really Californians. This is THE big unity song. Fuck all the rest. This was about being together. I'll sink California. It means nothing to me. This song was about sticking together. This was about anyone, white, black, yellow, or brown, all being the same. The name Californian doesn't mean shit. It's just a label. Shaking your hand is what this song is about. States, nations, everything means nothing anymore. This is about forgetting any kind of fucking line on a fucking map and just getting people for what they are. And accepting them. Cause we don't care if you're from north, south, east or west it's humanity that is the best. (T)48. D.I. - "Richard Hung Himself" A lot of older punkers are gonna be so sick of this song, it will bore them to read this review. But really, isn't this the first time you ever wanted to know what subcutaneious meant? And here you are, years later, reading an idiot's review and it's spelled wrong? Gotta be a cool song. A little sad, prolly bullshit, but really the feeling of this song is one of giving up. t's kinda sad cause it happened to a lot of our friends so I'm a little hesitant to say it rocks, but I will. This isn't something that you would yell out of your car window unless you were packed with gin and didn't know the time of day. This wasn't a theme song. Don't get me wrong. This was a cool song about suicide and that is even kinda lame to type......but this song kicks ass. Desperation, failure, death, all in one song. Kinda like a combo meal at McDonalds. 'Cept instead of a strawberry shake you get a swinging dead junkie. (T)49. D.R.I - "Busted" This was a funny song. Or was it funny? I know when I first heard it was funny. We thought it was funny. We didn't know it would become a reality. This whole album was the background music when we were building a halfpipe. When I was a kid and laying down on the grass after putting in a few 2x4's this song would come on. It would get me up. Almost, almost I say, get me back to work. But then I realized it was almost 2 in the morning and I needed a beer. Later in life, this kinda became my theme song. I didn't know it. It was like Johnny Carson with that big fucking hat and the envelope to his head with Ed McMahon asking him "Where is the turtle going to be tonight?" and the Great Carsona replying "Jail!" A great song that just tells you that you can never get away from your past even if you want to. It will be there. The price you pay. (T) 50. Vandals - "Pat Brown" Who was Pat Brown? This was years before I lived in Orange County. Yeah I lived there. Fuck you. Years before I smelled the shit covered streets and felt a sun so hot it forced you to the ocean. Hey, turtle, ocean, beach, get it? Anyways, a look on the Internet got me Pat Brown as a Mayor or something and I really don't think Mayors would be doing B&E's for Marshall stacks. Hmmmm.Who was he....Pat Brown....why shouldn't I fuck around...hm... Anyways, this song is a great conversation starter. Tell anyone to not fuck around with Pat Brown when they piss you off. More times then not they will think you are crazy or they will shake your hand and sing the next verse. This is original Southern California second wave punk rock. Gah! That hurt my head to think about. Don't ever make me say that again. Way too much thinking there. A great song about someone who was, well, kinda a dick. But a cool song anyways. (T)51. Steel Pole Bathtub - "Train to Miami"Surreal, noisy, weird, disturbing, haunting, addicting. The repeated chorus of “these are my friends now” over a staccato bass, the cacophony of sounds in the background, the whispers about church burning and Satan, the short scream; it’s what the circus might sound like if you smoked a bowl of crack before entering the big tent. You’d think that putting all these sounds together might make a mess, but this band makes it work. It pulls you in, shakes you up and leaves you with a feeling in the pit of your stomach like you just witnessed someone’s bad acid trip. And you want to see it again. These are my friends now...these are my friends now.... (M)52. Bouncing Souls - "Ole!"Yea, there are plenty more Bouncing Souls songs I could have put here. They’re a fun band. They make fun music. And this one is the....funnest? Most fun? Check it out: We’re Bouncing Souls no one can beat us, we drink beer and wear Adidas. That’s hella fun to sing. Couple that with doing a football chant of Ole! Ole! Ole! Ole! a whole bunch of times (and add in the “mom this song is annoying the hell out of me” so I turn it up real loud and play it 20 more times factor) and you’ve got a cool party song. Plus, the Bouncing Souls are the best thing to come out of Jersey since the Sugarhill Gang. (M)53. Jonathan Richman - "Roadrunner"Is it punk? We called it punk back then (1976) and that’s all that matters. This song is an ode to the road. It starts off with him counting to six. Who counts to six? Four, three, but six? And then he launches into a singing/talking/rambling ride through Massachusetts, all disjointed lyrics and voice like a head cold over this simple punk beat fused with - is that a synthesizer? Keeps saying “with the radio on” and if you close your eyes you feel like you are driving with him in some convertible muscle car on a warm summer night and all you can hear is some cool music coming out of the radio and his fingers drumming on the steering wheel and the wind in your ears. Roadrunner, roadrunner. Going faster miles an hour. (M)

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

From the Music Vault - Slayer

Michele Catalano — Tue, 6 Jun 2006 14:09:20 EDT

Eight in a series by my co-blogger (T) and myself (M)Yes, it's 6/6/6. And National Day of Slayer! It’s a day to pretend you are some dark, evil person who wears a hooded robe and chants satanic verses in your bedroom while staring at the pentagram you drew on the mirror with eyeliner and waiting for Candyman to show up. It’s a day to look for the 666 carved on your child’s head, a day to read Good Omens, and a day accuse your boss of being the Anti Christ. And it’s a day to celebrate the wonders of Slayer.Besides, I am a metalhead at heart. Yea, despite my playlist that seems to include nothing but Minor Threat and the like, I have a long, long history with metal. Heavy metal, speed metal, thrash metal, angry German metal, death metal, whatever there is. I've listened to it, banged my head to it, kicked a small child to it, and vomited up twenty shots of Goldschlager to it. And out of all my favorite metal bands - spanning from Motorhead to Meshuggah -- none has won my heart, mind, and blackened soul like Slayer.However, I am shunned by many a Slayer fan. Why? Because my choice of favorite album isn't the usual pick of Reign in Blood or the hardcore fan's pick of Hell Awaits. It's not even Season in the Abyss. No, it is 1998's Diabolus in Musica, the follow up to the much maligned Undisputed Attitude (see T's review of this album below).For many Slayer fans, Attitude was a hard slap in the face. Punk songs? They are covering punk songs? They felt it was a departure as well as an insult. Of course, these were the people who remained ignorant of the fact that Slayer was actually influenced by hardcore punk bands like Minor Threat. But hey, why let a little history get in the way of your disdain? Anyhow, Slayer fans held their collective breath waiting for Diabolus to be released. Was Attitude a signal that the band had changed? Would this album be more punk than metal? Did we lose Slayer for good? I guess a two year wait in between albums will do that to a fan. Four years, if you are one of those who pretend Attitude doesn't exist.I remember distinctly listening to this album for the first time. June, 1998. I slipped it into my car's CD player in the parking lot of the mall. I waited. Anxious. The slow bass of "Bitter Peace" kicked in. It was a trudging kind of metal, heavy in the pit of your stomach. So far, so good. I nodded my head a bit, the way people afraid to actually bang their head in public do. And then the short break in the song where it gets quiet, then you can feel the build up coming, the drums rolling, and...dude. Holy shit. Speeeeeeed! Yes!! Oh yea, you can hear that hardcore influence loud and clear. And I knew that at that very minute, there were thousands of other Slayer fans listening to this album for the first time and feeling a little let down. Fuck them. If you can't appreciate "initiate blood purge, coalition in massacre" at full volume, at full speed, there's something wrong with you.Ok, next song. Could they follow this up? Could this get better? I was still sitting in the parking lot. Savoring the moment when hardcore punk and thrash metal came together so perfectly, like peanut butter in chocolate. "Death's Head" played. Oh, yea. Oh fucking hell yea. And then "Stain of Mind" kicked in. Fuck, yea. That's all I could say. Fuck, yea. I knew that within two hours, I would have the lyrics memorized, the song permanently embedded in that part of my brain that I reserve for songs that fall under "greatest fucking things ever recorded."I knew after my first full listen that most Slayer fans I knew wouldn’t be digging this album at all. In fact, quite a few of them called it Slayer’s worst album ever (those are the people who like to pretend that Attitude doesn’t exist). I got into a few arguments over it then decided that fighting with people who get annoyed when a band strays even an inch from their original sound is like fighting with someone who gets pissed when the sunset is purple instead of pink. Enjoy something different, dude. Think outside the lines. Yea, this isn’t Reign in Blood, but why would you want every album to be the same? It’s still got war and destruction and blood and Satan. The guts haven’t changed, just the structure. Hey, would it help if I told you that if you play "In the Name of God" backwards, it says “Kill everyone! Satan rules! Light churches on fire!”? Yea, really. You go do that. Go try it, hero. I’ll be over here enjoying this album for what it is while you listen for something you just aren’t going to get. (M)Undisputed Attitude - You all knew I was gonna grab this one to review. That's what I do. The punk ones and the ones you guys hate.This album turned me on to Slayer. I'm not gonna lie and say I was huge Slayer fan. They did what they did and that was cool. But after I heard this, I became a rabid fan. This is the one album I truly treasure. Sure, I like all of them now, but back when this came out, I hated them. Well, hate is a strong word. I never bothered with them. They weren't my style and I just didn't care. Speed metal was for burnouts in San Francisco. Back then I really didn't give a flying fuck if you wanted to see Satan or blood. That shit didn't impress me. I saw Satan every night. Hey dude, don't fool yourself. Satan was just a dude who changed his name to Satan. I think his name might have been Brian or Bob or Bill, but still, Slayer didn't really impress me.Then I heard this one night. Sitting on a couch. Slamming back a beer while wondering where I was at. Fucked up on ten different types of drugs. Thinking I could levitate if I just had one more line. Then it came on."Hey dude....that was TSOL, dude..." "No it wasn't. that was Slayer." What? Really? Fuck me. Really? It had been along time since I heard TSOL so I didn't really question it. I was still trying to peel an apple with my mind so I really didn't care if I was wrong or right on the song. I was focused on the apple. "Hey dude, that's Dr Know...." "No dude, it isn't...it's Slayer, dude" The apple's skin was still on, so I really didn't pay much attention to it. That skin would come off, god dammit. But I think that was Dr. Know. hmmmmm. "Oh, OK...Hey dude, that's fucking DI, god dammit, don't fucking tell me this is Slayer again god dammit or I am quitting drugs and becoming a hare krishna, god dammit!" Apple was thrown out the door in anger and frustration. Poor apple never had a chance. "Shave your head dude and put the pipe down cause this is Slayer."Fuck.I hate religion and I hate not having my apple. It was a green one too. Those are the best, god dammit.If some of you don't know this was an album of Slayer's tributes and covers of punk bands. Pretty much all west coast punk rock with a few exceptions. They jammed as much in as they could even mixing a couple songs together from a band or two to get the most out of their time. Did it work? You be the judge. 33 minutes of not slowing down. They knew they only had a little time to pack as much punch as they could into this album and they did it. This fucker kicks you in the face. All you have to know is that this album turned a bunch of punk rockers on to them. This was a band that I ignored until this record came out. When I heard this I kinda said to myself, "This band is pretty cool...." and went out to find the other records like a junkie on a dope hunt. "There must be more....there must be more...." I know people don't like this one but you have to realize what it did.A lot, and I mean a lot, of people bagged this album and said it was un-Slayerish. Don't ask me what that means. A lot of people didn't understand what was going on. How did their Slayer turn punk? Well the simple fact is they never turned punk. These are all old songs. Guys. This isn't Slayer. Well, it's them playing, but these aren't their songs. One day when you are sitting at a friend's house listening to music and a song comes on and it sounds like a Slayer song? One that you know they did? Think about it.These guys were paying tribute to their influences.Or just bored in the studio one day.You make the call cause this is one of my favorite Slayer albums.And "Violent Pacification" is just fucking insane. Happy National Day of Slayer everyone! -TAbolish Government (TSOL)Violent Pacification (DRI)Richard Hung Himself (D.I.)Stain of MindBitter Peace

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

100 Best Punk Songs: 35-46

Michele Catalano — Sat, 3 Jun 2006 17:47:32 EDT

My co-blogger (T) and I (M) continue the list.35. Rancid - "Sidekick"This one appeals to the comic book lover in me. Because I first heard this song and thought hell, yeah. Vigilante’s sidekick. That’s kinda cool. Runnin’ around town in our superhero suits, one of us with a V and one with an S (for sidekick, of course) and we’d be gunning down bad guys like some punk rock Milk and Cheese and...hey...I think he’s talking about soup kitchens and feeding the poor, or maybe the big bad wolf huffing and puffing and going 187 on a cop...oh hell, I don’t know. I just know that someday I’m gonna write a comic book and it will start out by saying, “My name is Tim and I’m a lesser known character.” (M) 36. Operation Ivy - "Sound System"Dude, this song makes me happy. I mean, almost all the songs I’ve written about so far are drenched in alcohol and drug memories and lots of young adult angst and overwrought emotions. But this song. This makes me fucking happy. It’s about creating something, turning words into song, making those words come to life, taking a thought you have in your head, making something of it, and it’s not yours anymore because you’ve put it out there and given it to everyone. And it’s about being happy, not giving in to the shit around you and just living in the moment. Well, that’s what I get out of it anyhow. Box in my hand music by my side/Skanking to the rhythm of the music by my side. Yeah, dude. [Disclaimer: I do not skank, have never skanked, will never, ever skank. Though I have been called a skank.] (M) 37. Dead Milkmen - "Bitchin’ Camaro"Hey, you can’t have a great punk song list without this. The first time I heard this, I was thinking, "Hey this whole fake banter thing is kinda clever," and then "Hey, they are bagging on the Doors and...dude! I fucking saw Crystal Ship at least a dozen times, man. They’re totally making fun of me!" And I was all set to hate them and then the song really kicks in and by the time I got to “Tony Orlando and Dawn”, I was hooked on the song and on the Milkmen. I’m drunk on unleaded! And yea, I really saw Crystal Ship. A lot. Fuck you. I was young. (M)38. Turbonegro - "Don't Say Motherfucker, Motherfucker"I have no clue what this song is about. I woke up and heard this while passed out on a sofa. The words were like, "Toilet bowls and puppies and motherfuckers?" I must have missed that. It had been a long night and I'm half deaf. Put that thing on again and get me a beer cause we need to get what he is saying. Second play. "Toliet bowls and rubbing a dogs face in the dirt?" What the fuck is he saying? Third play. "Kick the sand in our face?" What the fuck? This is a song that grabs you and tells you it will fucking beat you if you don't like it. Love it to Deathpunk. (T)39. New Bomb Turks - "I Want My Baby...Dead?"Let's pick up the pace here. A song that you DON'T want to play at a sorority house. Even if you think it's the coolest thing you ever heard, explaining this to a bunch of girls in sweats is fucking hard. "He doesn't really mean he wants his girl dead, he is just sick of her. I don't want to explain this again." Hey dude, I'm not bagging on sorority chicks, but ...well, yes, I am. Dude, the song fucking rocks and lets you in on a little bit of inside information. Sometimes girlfriends don't rock and sometimes you feel you are better off alone. Meh. It happens. (T)40. Subhumans - "Susan"This might not be your favorite Subhumans' song. You might not even call it punk rock. But to this day I still know the lyrics. This song always came up in my head when I saw someone who just wanted out. Trust me. A lot of people in my life wanted out and were forced to keep going. But, they just wanted out. This tells you the story of one girl who wanted out years before but couldn't go. A weird, dark song about her wanting to die but staying alive just for others to smile, but in the end giving up. A really sad song about a girl who was forgotten in the end. (T)41. SOD - "March of the SOD"Oh, you knew it was gonna happen. Don't shake your head, 'cause you damn well knew it was coming. This was a song everyone waited for. Waited for on Friday nights when MTV played that stupid music show that featured music bands that played funny things called music videos. I know you are all surprised, but Headbangers Ball was something that was an era ago. Something that, when you heard the grind of this song, you knew it was going. Before Carson Daly took over, this is what we waited for. The bullrider, the trainwreck, the opening song. "March of the SOD." You could hear it at any party we were at. It was song that meant that everything you heard in the past was the past. Things were gonna get a bit harder now. (T) 42. Germs - "Lexicon Devil" I was listening to an old D.I. tune. Something off some album. I remembered sitting in a bar with D.I. and stupidly asking them about that song. "You guys didn't do this did you? Who did it?" Being immediately shamed by them for not knowing this was the Germs they were covering. That's what made me buy the album. I won't lie. This stuff was way before my time and sometimes I can't understand it. The way Darby sings. I can't hear it. Fuck, I'm almost fucking deaf. Gimmie a break. We have talked about this before. But this song had energy. And it was mean. What was it about? Don't ask me. But I remember two songs and this was one of them. This song moved and surprisingly, Darby could keep up. I wasn't one of those people who wouldn't get a Germs burn but this song was coolio enough to light a cigarette to. (T)43. The Accused - "Grinning Like an Undertaker" Take a kid and put him in a hospital. A punk rock kid who hates speed metal. Is it speed metal? Is it punk? Is it freeform fucking art? I have no fucking clue. Make your own decisions 'cause I'm turning it up. Anyway, take this kid, leave him there with just a Walkman and just this one tape. Twenty-four hours of this tape. Drugs and alcohol (we can talk about alcohol in the hospital in another story). Mix it all together and you have the turtle. By the time I walked out of there I was a full-on, pissed off, broken machine. If you get used to Blaine's voice, this shit fucking rocks. It takes about ten times 'til you kinda get it, and you can call it punk or not, but the Accused move and Blaine holds on. Great stuff from a great band that I'm not even sure is around anymore. (T) 44. MC5 - "Kick Out the Jams"So I’m in the car with my 13-year-old son, listening to the punk rock station on XM radio and this song comes on. Kick out the jams, motherfucker! Kid says, "Hey this song sounds old." I said, "Yeah, 1969, dude. This is like the original punk rock song. The original punk rock band." He says, "They said 'motherfucker' in 1969??" That made me laugh. But hey, he rocked out to the song and immediately hit his Fender when we got home to try and work it out. Over 30 years later and some 13-year-old kid is laying down your notes on his guitar and thinking it’s one of the coolest things he ever heard? Rock on. (M) 45. Husker Du - "Divide and Conquer"What? Two Husker Du songs and no appearance by anything from Zen Arcade yet? Hey, it's everybody else's favorite album, not mine. This particular song always got me going when I needed some motivation to get off my ass. I’m not saying it inspired me or anything, but the groove got me up and going when I might have just stayed in bed all day going over my bad life choices. The lyrics are kind of like reading the notes of a drunken conspiracy theorist and the music, well, it moves on and on and on and you keep holding your breath waiting for a hook or an extended 'fuck you' chorus or something, but it’s just that cool, winding melody over and over and the occasional 'divide and conquer' and finally Mould gives you a bunch of patented 'la, la, las' which isn’t much of a payoff, but damn that guitar lick kicks some ass. (M) 46. Misfits - "Bullet"Yeah, more Misfits. Hey, at least it’s not another Minor Threat song, because I could easily go there, too. How many ways can you offend people in one song? When I heard these lyrics for the first time I could almost hear the collective gasp of middle America. I could see scarf-wearing suburban women fainting in shock, grown men in seersucker suits and military hair cuts banging their fists in anger and demanding death to the Misfits. I mean, my god. Masturbation, eating cum out of your palm, shattered head on concrete -- dude, this is more offensive than the time when I was working at the record store and put out a display of Dead Kennedys records on November 22. But really, anyone totally appalled at this song only has to watch the Misfits perform it to see it go from tastelessness to, well, campy tastelessness. (M)

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

From the Music Vault: GBH

Michele Catalano — Fri, 2 Jun 2006 18:26:56 EDT

Part 7 in a series from my co-blogger (T) and myself (M). This time we take on two different albums from one band.GBH - City Baby Attacked by RatsI was working at a record store in 1983 when a co-worker played this album for me, asking me to settle a debate with another co-worker. "Is this punk or speed metal?" I listened to the first four tracks or so, shrugged my shoulders and said "Why can't it be both?" They looked at me kinda weird and the one guy said, "Well, you know, it's got that whole fast guitar thing going on, so I'm thinking it's more metal than punk." Whatever, dude. I mean, yeah, it's got fast guitar. Fucking Yngwie Malmsteen plays a fast guitar too, but we're not gonna call him anything other than a wanker, okay? The world isn't black and white, guys. It's not an either/or premise here. Labeling shit is for people who live in tight confines. That ain't me. Label? Call it what you want; thrash, punk metal, whatever. City Baby - and GBH by extension - doesn't need no stinkin' label. Violent, offensive, dark, dirty, crude, mean and faster than fuck, City Baby - framed by Abrahall's guttural vocals and Blyth's blistering guitar work - is an attention deficit's delight. Blasting through the songs at an average of about two minutes, each tune does what it has to do and then quits. It grabs you in, fucks with your head, gets your heart pumping, slaps you around and then drops you on the floor. Then you get up for another. By the time the album is done, you'll wonder if you just went through some Yngwie nightmare, where it's proven that masturbating with your guitar may get people to call you a genius, but pounding your way through some punk-rock-on-speed and leaving people breathless, worn out, scarred, and begging for more counts for a hell of a lot more than having 14-year-old kids with used Fenders trying to mimic your licks. It's when the 14-year-olds with used Fenders break shit in their garage while going apeshit trying to play "Bellend Bop" that you know you kick some major fucking ass. So, if you're in the mood to get your heart pumping, get your throat burning, and maybe jump off your couch a couple of times and move around like you're still 18 and can take a musical beating, then crank up City Baby and prepare to feel that familiar surge of power and excitement like you had the last time you were at a show. And then prepare to feel the agony of defeat as you lay on the ground holding your knee and cursing father fucking time. Not saying I did that, but...yeah. Oh, and dude -- if you get offended at "Big Women", you deserve to be forced to listen to nothing but Yngwie fucking Malmsteen records for the rest of your life. Bellend Bop Boston BabiesGBH - City Baby's RevengeThis was my first real exposure to GBH. Great Big Hair, Great Britain Hardcore, Grevoius Bodily Harm. Whatever the fuck it meant. Years later I found out what it meant in a different country, but that's a different story for a different time. Right now we are talking about City Baby's Revenge.I don't know if this was a part two to City Baby or just some cocaine-fueled idea that went too far. Doesn't matter. The song kicks about why they hate politicians and why they hate their attitude. I have no idea what was going on in the UK at that time, but it seems to me like a politician did something bad. Fuck if I know, but the song fucking rocked.Fuck, I was a kid. Make the fucker kick and I'll like it. Make it fast? I'll like it more. Talk shit about the privileges of politicians? Well, just call me fucking Bill Cosby in full on motherfucking dancing mode cause I'm happy as a motherfucker.This shit was good. It pulled up everything a kid needed to hear about. Politicians. Women's rights. Vietnam. Bad dope. I think that's sarcasm, but who fucking knows. Maybe it was good for me to hear about in the long run.'Cause without it you wouldn't have the turtle you know and love today.Oh yeah...I'm modest, too.Hit a kid with all those topics when I'm still trying to find my Cap't Crunch cereal. Make me think that wars ten years before my time were bad, the president sucks, politicians are corrupt, bad dope kinda sucks, and maybe me calling my mom a bitch wasn't that cool of a thing to do at seven in the morning.Kinda grabs you.That was this album. This is what made you rumble when you sat down. Shake when you stood up. Made you pay attention at school and made you shiver as you fell asleep. The album that some guy wasted off his ass on speed or LSD, or maybe both, would steal from your locker, give back to you broken and apologize for it. This made you think that there might be fucking something out there you didn't know about. It was an eye opener. And for me -- just a start. High Octane Fuel Drug Party

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.

From The Music Vault: Hellacopters

Michele Catalano — Thu, 1 Jun 2006 09:07:42 EDT

Part 6 of a series from my co-blogger (T) and myself (M).Today we take on Hellacopters' Supershitty to the Max.What is it? The rock fueled guitar licks? The ear splitting distortion? The heavy metal vocals trudging over punk rock simplicity? I don’t know what dragged me into this album so hard, but all I can tell you is once it got a hold of me, I was stuck on it. Still am. It’s blistering music that’s not for the faint of heart. Yea, sure, you can bang your head to your Pantera or whatever, but that will never match the roar that comes from your speakers when you crank this thing up. It’s mean, it’s evil, it’s fun, it’s something you listen to while you are doing shots of some illegal liquor you set on fire before throwing down your throat. And then you rip your shirt off and get up on top of the speakers and shake your tits and scream FIREFIREFIRE! Or maybe that’s just me. So down another glass of alcohol-on-fire and maybe take a second or two to puke it up all over your shoes and by the time "Random Riot" comes on, you don’t even care if you are standing in your own vomit. Yea, this is music to puke up alcohol by. It’s dirty, distorted, fast as hell, and will make you wish you were 17 years old again just so you could get in a car with this blasting and go knock over some garbage cans and leave tire tracks and empty bottles on your teacher’s lawn. And maybe puke in the bushes. -- M A scream, a yell, a start, a "what the fuck is this style" thought. From a band from where? What part of the world is that? Who the fuck are they? Who the fuck do they think they are? This is fucking cock rock that makes no apologies Usually I have to pay to get my balls rocked this hard. But this was for free. And the balls were knocking. You think, well maybe they will slow down after the intro. Well, I guess not. Fuck me. I'm wrong. This thing does not fucking stop and doesn't let you breath. Cause every god damn song in there pulls a part of you out. This is something that asks for nothing, gives you everything and just says "Fuck you, I'm here" Set it for a six pack and a fast car. Fuck. That was my middle fucking name back then. As long as I could put back a warm Pabst and start the car, times must be good. Cause I never cared about you and I just wanna drive. And if I'm gonna fucking drive, it's sure as shit gonna be faster than you. Fire Fire Fire my ass as I burn past you.This is garage rock. Bad recording, moving fast and sounding like they had a car outside that could fucking shake the hearing aids out of old peoples ears. Some asshole is yelling for them to get in the car. 'Cause the car ain't moving till he had beer money. Speed the shit up cause there is a liquor store that's calling you and you gotta beat the last drag strip time to the liquor store. 'Cause you know you can. This is your time. Burn this motherfucker, crank this up cause Montel is on and you need to find out who the baby's daddy is. -TFire Fire Fire Bore Me (Gotta Get Some Action) Now! 24H Hell

Michele is from Long Island and writes about two of her favorite things - punk rock and fast cars -along with her better half at Faster Than the World.