Dead Moon- Echoes of the Past 2xCD

 

Ethics have played a large role in punk since the genres inception back in the 70′s. Bands like Crass, Zounds, the Subhumans and Fugazi (and a world of others) come to mind when thinking of those that have practiced what they preach. Enter Clackamas, Oregon’s Dead Moon, another band that have lived by the DIY ideals for the last 20 years up until their unfortunate demise just a few short months ago.

Fred Cole, involved in Rock n’ Roll since the 60′s, started Dead Moon back in 1987 with his wife and bass player Toody, and drummer Andrew Loomis. In those 20 years they recorded more than a few LP’s and EP’s themselves, released the bulk of them on their own label (Tombstone Records) and cut their own masters on the same disc cutter used for the Kingsmen’s hit (way back in the 60′s) Louie Louie. To me, this speaks volumes about DIY self sufficiency.

Echoes of the Past is a 2xCD anthology compiled by the band themselves and, like the Radio Birdmen anthology from a few years back, released by Sub Pop. What you get is 49 raw cuts of (dare I call it garage influenced) Rock n’ Roll, not far removed from bands of the past, spanning their 20 year career.  Expect gritty, honest, whiskey soaked music. This isn’t polished to say the least hell, sometimes the guitar or vocals are too loud, and sometimes you can hear the pops and hisses from the old vinyl masters, but that only adds to the music, separating it from the pack of crappy over produced boy bands that pass for punk these days. Don’t get me wrong, I like to be able to hear the multiple  tracks that only a clear recording will offer, but I am also a fan of music that is raw and stripped down to its basic elements such as what is offered by Dead Moon and bands of that ilk. It also doesn’t hurt to know that they had a hand in almost every step of the recording/mastering/distributing process.

Dead Moon influenced bands from the Northwest and otherwise for twenty years. Let’s be honest, there are songs on this release that you can tell Nirvana blatantly ripped off. And they’ve had a loyal following throughout the course of that career. If you’ve never heard them before, then there is no time like the present to discover this amazing band.
Sub Pop

A Burrito Tour D’ Force

In the forthcoming months I, with a few other friends, will be conducting the Tampa Bay Burrito Tour: Seven Burritos In Seven Days. The plan? Find the ultimate non corporate (Panchero, Chipotle, Moes and Tijuana Flats can suck it!) burrito joint in the area. Please send in suggestions now for ideas on the criteria or any restsraunt suggestions.

Martyrs of Progress

By: Corey, Field Archivist

Who exactly are the martyrs of progress? Who are the people who die in the name of societal “evolution”? Who pays for growth? I found myself asking these questions walking around downtown St. Petersburg in the rain. Oh, what solitary inspires.

Walking through downtown St. Petersburg, you see a vast array of people who are doing well for themselves, and those who have been displaced by society. With enough observation, you may even encounter interactions between the two. Those are generally the most disheartening to me. Seeing someone in the process of unlocking the door to their Lexus, spit on someone asking for spare change, offers little more than disgust for humanity as a whole. This isn’t an “us vs. them” diatribe, because I have witnessed first hand punk kids do the same, and sometimes worse. It really offers little hope if a “subversive” microcosm of society can’t realize that the songs they are singing along to, are more than likely about the disenfranchised people they are treating with complete disregard.

The thing is we have all been there before, myself included. I have had to on many occasions, tell people that I don’t have any money to help them out. I usually try to help them out with either a cigarette or the rest of a beer or something. I generally have a large feeling of guilt that follows these types of experiences. The feelings of guilt usually arise out of the fact that these are people who have nowhere else to turn. If I can’t pay my rent, I can always move back in with my dad, or ask a family member for help. These are people, regardless of circumstance, have no one or little options of receiving help.

Now, here is where things get somewhat complicated. More and more recently, I have encountered homeless people around town, who appear to have nothing wrong with them. According to U.S. Census reports, an overwhelming majority of the homeless population in America is mentally ill. Whether that illness has stemmed from prolonged drug use, alcoholism, isolation, war trauma is besides the point. The point is, the more and more we build up this town and eradicate affordable housing, the more and more lower-class members of society will be found living on the streets.

It seems to me to almost have the appearance of a caste system, routed in capitalism. Sure, there are those who get lucky, and can and do move up, but for many it seems to be a perpetual cycle of try-fail-try. If we as a society, don’t realize these things and don’t begin helping the people in our communities, I do believe that these things are going to continually get worse.

With that being said, we, the people who work for a living are the martyrs of society. We are the ones who shoulder the struggles. We are the ones who at the drop of a hat could be living in a tent city, like the ones on 16th Street and 5th Avenue. It could very easily be anyone reading this, or someone they know. Without understanding that, we are slowly crucifying ourselves in the name of progress.

Vegan with a Vengeance: Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock by: Isa Chandra Moskowitz

 

I am a fan of cooking and food in general. I love Mexican food, Thai food, Italian food…if it tastes good, and is made fresh you can pretty much assume that I’ll eat it (within reason of course). When it comes down to it, I’d rather cook the food for myself than go out to eat. Maybe it’s the sense of accomplishment especially when you tackle a really hard, time consuming recipe, or maybe it’s the satisfaction of being self sufficient, or maybe it’s the fact that unless I’m eating at Taco Bell, I’m saving a lot of money doing it on my own.

I used to be vegetarian and the majority of food I cook is just that. Now this isn’t to say that I shove a ton of meat down my throat, in fact the only meat that I eat is seafood and even then it’s only every so often (I know, I sound like I’m copping out). The biggest problem that I have when I would look for a good tasty recipe that is vegetarian is that it always seemed like it would taste bland…blah…blasé. I always found myself getting cookbooks or recipes with meat in the ingredients, and adapting it to what I was making, and it turned out that my substitution method worked fairly well. But I always thought that the world needed a really good vegetarian cookbook especially in a world filled with crappy zines with horrible recipes. Enter Vegan with a Vengeance: Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock by: Isa Chandra Moskowitz.

For those of you unfamiliar with Isa Moskowitz, she is the host of a vegan cooking show on cable access TV in New York called The Post Punk Kitchen. I’ve only watched a few episodes of the show on the computer, but what I loved about it was how easy it was for me to relate to things, because it’s cooking from a DIY punk perspective, which is exactly the approach to the book.

Vegan with a Vengeance places emphasis on creating dishes with quality yet cheap ingredients for us punkers that want a good meal, but don’t want to pay an arm and a leg. Face it, we’re cheap bastards. I really like that Isa teaches you how to make everything from scratch. For example there is an awesome recipe for green curry with tofu, and where as many cookbooks would tell you to add a tablespoon of green curry paste, Isa teaches you how to make that paste from scratch. Also, instead of the same boring recipe for spring rolls, Isa includes a recipe for mango summer rolls with a killer dipping sauce. And the cupcakes…did I mention the cupcakes yet? They look absolutely delectable! Another strength of this book is the infusion of politics, for example there is a piece on Food Not Bombs (FNB) which is very relevant especially when you take into consideration the politics behind FNB. I’ll tell you what, in a world of crappy half bit vegetarian zines and really horrid cookbooks by people like Paula Deen or Rachel Ray, this is a shining beacon on the horizon. Highly recommended!
The Post Punk Kitchen

The Evens, December 4, 2006 @ The G-Spot, Baltimore, MD

By: Ivy Lopez, Field Archivist

(Disclaimer: The author takes full responsibility for the untimeliness of the following)

My interest is always peaked when I read a review or hear about a band that features former members of another band that I’m fond of. That was the case when I first heard of The Evens. Featuring the iconic Ian Mackaye of many redefining bands, but most notably of Fugazi, and Amy Farina of The Warmers, I was eager to hear the sum of such notable variables. However, upon hearing The Evens first self titled album, I was admittedly disappointed. The songs, while minimal are not straightforward. With a baritone guitar and drums, The Evens are able to write songs that are robust, dynamic and well developed, while wrought with the lyrical content and messages we’ve grown accustomed to. Many of the songs are laden with hooky and driving riffs reminiscent of Fugazi.

By no means was I expecting nor wanting a band that was a replica of Fugazi, but what I was expecting was the same energy to be conveyed in this new project. With that, for me, the album lacks luster. Although I don’t care for the music, there are a few things that make The Evens notable.

One of the things that I do like about The Evens approach to songwriting is the focus on volume control. Though not a novel approach, those familiar with Billy Childish (artist, poet and member of The Headcoats and Thee Headcoatees), know that he championed such philosophy decades ago. Through their recordings and live show, they convey that volume does not translate into power and energy. That being louder does not mean being more of anything.  The Evens channel their energy in a more subtle way. And for that, I can understand and appreciate their approach.

Another thing that I like about The Evens is the control they have over their show environment. They choose their forum, playing in art spaces etc. They choose to perform in a space in which they exist and allow their songs to breath in an environment that is not a bar.  Once again, while not a novel idea, I give them much credit for “keeping it real.” For allowing music to be exactly what it is.

The Evens live show is another very redeemable element. Interestingly, although the album lacks energy, their shows are quite the opposite. They performed to a mostly sit down audience (of which I have issues about, but that may be another article appropriately titled “the etiquette of show-going”). Aesthetically, The Evens embody their name. They both play seated, both instruments are evenly volumed and they both have the same lamp placed by each of them. Contrary, to what they say, even does mean equal in their live appearance. The Evens were able to engage the audience in a cadence that few bands today can do well. The audience was an active participant, often times singing in chorus.  At one point, the space was roaring with the phrase “the police will not be excused. The police will not behave,” which was overwhelming and inspiring. It is apparent that they are very excited about what they do and their interactions with others. I found myself wanting Mackaye to physically feel the energy he was trying to convey. I wanted him to writhe and flail as I’d once seen before. There were moments where it looked imminent. He would be playing a very driving riff and the vocals would be paralleled, but then nothing. I can’t understand the restraint. But then again, that would be a band of yore and not The Evens.

Shirt Design!

Below is one of the shirt designs that Keith drew up. Available soon!

Dinosaur Jr. and the Beat Buttons January 19, 2007 @ The Cuban Club, Tampa, FL

The SPOT anniversary show is always an event to behold. I’ve seen some amazing shows over years: Avail with Hot Water Music and Radon, Against Me! with Smoke or Fire and the Soviettes, so on and so forth. But this year promised to be one of the most amazing anniversary shows ever because somehow the fine folks at SPOT pulled a major coup, and got the legendary Dinosaur Jr. to play a one off show to celebrate their 14th year in existence. To say that I was excited was an understatement.

Dinosaur Jr. was one of those bands like the Pixies, Husker Du or Mudhoney that sparked my interest in all things alternative and punk. I remember staying up late on Sundays to watch 120 Minutes and seeing the video for Feel the Pain, instantly getting hooked. I never got to see Dinosaur Jr. (or Sebadoh either) when I was in my teens, so now I would finally get the chance. And that they were playing with the Beat Buttons, one of favorite newer indie bands, was only icing on the cake.

We arrived at the Cuban Club to a huge line and the Beat Buttons already playing, but luckily we got tickets in advance so our wait wasn’t as bad as it could have been. One thing that disappointed me was the lack in execution of getting the free beer wrist bands out in an efficient way. If you’re going to advertise 14 free kegs of PBR, then don’t have one random guy at a table passing out wrist bands to well over 500 people. The lines for a beer would be a reoccurring theme that would haunt me the whole night through.

Like every other time that I’ve seen them, the Beat Buttons were on point, focusing largely on playing songs off of their Self Titled CD. What I love about them is that the bass and drums really push the music, where as the vocals and guitar almost mimic each other, carrying the melody. If you’ve never heard them, then you have no idea what you are missing. The venue’s sound definitely left something to be desired during their set which put a bit of a damper on things for me.

I ventured out to get a drink thinking that I’d be able to hit the bar, and then hurry back to see Dinosaur’s whole set. Literally and hour later I was finally close to getting one, and Dinosaur Jr. was already 30 minutes into their show. The bartenders made absolutely no effort into expediting things. There were not enough of them to service the amount of people at the show, and those that were there talked to one another more than they actually poured. At least I got to hear Freak Scene and Feel the Pain even if I didn’t get to see it close up.

I was able to catch the rest of the show from the side of the stage and I’ll be damned if they weren’t impressive. They sounded as tight and amazing as the first time I heard them so many years ago. The guitar dork in me was very excited by the amount of awesome amps that J. Mascis played through, making him sound loud and dirty like on their older releases. And besides the fact that J. has long grey hair making him resemble a witch, it was hard to tell that the members were well in their 40′s. They definitely played a long, very spirited set which made all of the beer line hassle not seem as bad.

It was just awesome to see them play songs from their 10+ year career. It was even more awesome to witness them play with their original lineup. I’ve heard that they recorded a new album that will be out sometime this year, so hopefully there is no bad blood between the members which was the driving force with Lou Barlow exiting the band way before they even had their minor radio hit. Hell, maybe they’ll even tour for the new record!

The Riverboat Gamblers, ASG, Fake Problems, Degenerate Elite, and Spirits Down January 10, 2007 @ SPOT, Tampa, FL

Photographic evidence by: Chewy and myself

It’s no secret, the Riverboat Gamblers are one of my favorite bands. I hold them in as high regards as bands like Dillinger Four, American Steel, and Against Me! So when my friend Jamie told me at Danielle’s birthday party that they were scheduled to play at SPOT, a warm feeling went through my whole body.

Here’s the deal, I have a horrible bad luck streak when it comes to seeing the Gamblers play. The first time I was going to see them a few years back was on the “Guinness Tour” with Flogging Molly and Hot Water Music. Unfortunately the show sold out before I even thought about getting tickets. Then I was supposed to see them on the “As the World Burns Tour” with X and the Rollins band, but I realized after I parked my car that I left my tickets at home, so I had to turn around and drive all the way home. The Gamblers finished their set by the time I returned. D’oh! I finally got to see them play at Fest, and they were awesome, but since they had only 30 minutes to play it seemed like everything was rushed. I was so excited to see them headline a show in the intimate confines of Transitions Art Gallery at SPOT.

Fast foreword to the night of the show. We (Shannon, Nathan and I) got a late start on things, and by the time we got to SPOT we missed the opening three bands which bummed me out because I really wanted to see Fake Problems. As upset as I was about missing Fake Problems, I didn’t sweat it too much because I knew in a little more than a month I would be seeing them with Against Me! and Riverboat. Hell, at least I got there in time to drink a couple of beers, and watch the two touring bands.

ASG promptly set up, and began to rip the crowd a new one. I was uber impressed with ASG when I caught them at Fest, and they certainly did not disappoint. For the uninitiated, ASG plays a potent mix of southern rock by way of Black Sabbath with a slight touch of old Metallica creating a new genre of music that I like to call Rifftastic. Also like Torche, Sleep or Floor (other bands that I would consider Rifftastic) the vocals are sung not screamed adding a different sense of melody to the songs. ASG played a very high energy set, to a very receptive crowd. Unfortunately I do not own any music by them, so I couldn’t tell you whether they played new or old songs.

Soon there after the Gamblers, who were sharing ASG’s equipment, took the stage and proceeded to blow my mind for the next 40 (or so) minutes. Kicking their set off with “Let’s Eat” and “What’s What” from Something to Crow About, the Gamblers focused all of their attention to playing songs off of the aforementioned album and To the Confusion of Our Enemies, which didn’t bother me at all since those are my two favorite albums.

What I love about the Gamblers is that their live show is fun as hell.  Everyone in the band is moving around, and they all look like they are genuinely having a good time. One minute Mike, the singer, is on stage and the next minute he is climbing (literally) up the wall to the balcony, or singing from atop of the PA speakers, or making his way through the crowd to sing from the front counter all the while never missing a beat. The band as well was super tight, performing like a well oiled machine. I love shows like this where the crowd is as much part of the show as the band is. The Gamblers effectively tore down that imaginary division between bystander and participant by drawing everyone in.

The audience was very receptive…they sang, they danced, they smiled. There were a couple of situations where the meat heads that stood in front of me made it a bit of a chore to enjoy especially with their display of machismo (note: drunken wife beater wearing Tom foolery) but it wasn’t enough to ruin the night. My only complaint is that the Gamblers didn’t play “Walk Around Me” but eh, maybe they will play it on the 21st when I get to catch them again. There is definitely a reason that magazines like Spin or AP have listed the Gamblers as one of the best live bands, because in all honesty, they are.

 

PS, Here’s a pretty cool interview that I found over at punkmusic.com. Enjoy!

Five Minutes Till Midnight?

I know it’s no opus like “Two Minutes Till Midnight,” but seriously, we’re fucked!

The Legend of Deli Boy

I’ve only had two jobs in my life, not counting mowing yards for my grandmother and my neighbor across the street. Yes, it’s true, only two jobs in the last 14 years. Now let’s get something straight, there was never a huge lag between jobs, and it was never because I was spoiled and I could just be living off of the (non existent) wealth of my family. In fact, the only substantial amount of time that I have had off between jobs was maybe six months while I was interning, and then looking for a teaching job after I graduated. It just happens that I am a pretty dedicated person and when I am doing something that I even marginally like, I stick to it.

The first job I ever had, been at a local deli in town called Gioia Deli. I started working there because my aunt somehow had a connection with the place, and found out there was an opening. This was also the same deli that catered my mom’s second wedding. Only sometime down the line would I find out that my ex boss felt like he was the reason that my mom got her second divorce a few years later. I was 16, and would be turning 17 a few months later.

I held the position of (as my friends would lovingly call me) Deli Boy for seven years. Seven years of minimum wage. Seven years of getting yelled at by old New York ladies that liked their prosciutto cut so thin that they can read the newspaper through it. Seven years, quite literally, of blood, sweat and tears. My god they were some of the best years of my life. If you’ve never worked in a kitchen before, then there are a few things in life that you are missing out on, like washing a chest level pile dishes at least four times a day. Or cutting your finger tip off (err…more than once) but not going to the hospital for stitches for fear of claiming workers comp. I mean honestly, my boss owned a small business, like he was really willing to pay me 80% of what I normally make for sitting at home on my fat ass, and watching TV. You also miss out on working with the miscreants of society, where getting drunk in the kitchen was as common as breathing. Don’t believe me? Read Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbellyby by: Anthony Bourdain. My god, the bastards I worked with made for some good stories.

There always seemed to be a revolving door of employee’s, but in general there were a good seven of us that held down the fort: Kelly, Judy, Irene (AKA Mom), Jerry (the owner), Jason, Steven, and myself. I always found Kelly to be them most endearing for a few reasons. She always had some bazaar, borderline Baker Act type of story. She was a biker girl who married a trucker, but was unfortunately the type of person that you would see on Jerry Springer. The type of person that said he/she wasn’t racist because she liked reggae and had an African American friend, but would commonly drop the N bomb and referred to the Southside, which has a large African American population, as brown town. She was a pretty good person after all of her nincompoopery was taken into account. Then there was Steven.

Steven was still in high school when he started working there and therefore very naïve. We played some pretty bad pranks on the kid, culminating in the time where I pretended to be a police man, and called to inform him that he was to drive straight to the police station after work to be finger printed on some made up charge. He about nearly lost his shit until Jason and I told him we were behind everything. It took him a long time to get over that.

The deli generated income in a couple of ways: by the lunch and dinner crowd, and by either on or off premises catering. I got pretty adept to working the lunch and dinner crowd, and it was time to move on to the more luxurious world of catering. Oh yeah, I’m lying. It wasn’t luxurious, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t pay better. The off premises catering consisted of driving food in chafing pans to a certain place, setting everything up and either leaving, or staying behind to serve the food and then break everything down.

In off premises catering, time was of the essence, especially when you factor in traffic, time it takes to get to the catering, and location. The quicker you went the better. Unfortunately that would lead to questionable driving and the go fast but take your time policy. Picture it: lunch rush, the day before I leave for my first (and sadly only) out of country excursion to visit family in Montreal. I had to deliver food to one of the two hospitals downtown, and I was already panicking because I was running late. The delivery vehicle was this huge, gnarly early 80’s station wagon with a really loose steering wheel. I was speeding down Ninth Avenue, not paying attention to anything but the radio, when I slammed the car into the curb. The old curbs in St. Pete are made of granite, and are super sharp. Needless to say, I popped the two right tires. I called my boss, and he brought me my car to deliver the food in. In a moment of pat myself on the back glory, I got the food there on time, but he was none too happy about the situation. He was going to make me pay for the tires and rims, therefore ruining my vacation, but at the last minute, having had time to cool down, he realized that insurance would cover it.

In house caterings also had their charm. No longer was I just part of the kitchen staff, I would have to get all gussied up, and serve food like a waiter. One of the first times I worked an in house catering, I got the brilliant idea to partake in some mind altering substances. For some reason everything, and everybody was funny as hell that night.

There was also the time that my boss decided to host an Oktoberfest, and have me man the beer station. Let me qualify this with the fact that I had just broken the edge, and was well on the way to becoming the man I am today. I think I drank more free beer that night than I poured for anyone else. Who has a 19 year old kid fill people’s steins with beer, and not think I would get my fill?

Seriously, I could fill a zine three times over with stories and situations from that place. There were so many disasters that occurred at the deli in my seven year tenure, but there were also many good times, and the amount of stuff that I learned was incredible. The deli, not my mom (though I’d never tell her this) is what has made me love cooking, and potentially want to pursue cooking sooner than later, especially if school keeps going down the crapper.

To this day I miss Gioia, not just for the nice conveniences that it offered, like waking up at 10:00 to be at work by 11:00, but also the camaraderie that was shared among all of the workers there. I miss the compliments that I got for doing something good, unlike teaching where it feels like there’s no one to tell you when you did something right. I miss the creativity and the freedom, especially now when everything in education is standardized. But mostly I miss the feeling that if I said something it would make a difference, where as with teaching everything is so big, so faceless, that I’d never be able to go to the superintendent, and tell him what’s on my mind. I’d have to go through the “proper channels.” It’s things like that, that gave me a sense of belonging. I think I shed a tear the day they tore the building down that Gioia was housed in to build a 34 story condo.