Started by anarchist Spanish writer Miguel García García, the Centro Ibérico began with his printing of the Anarchist Black Cross Federation’s newsletter, Black Flag. Soulsby documents some of García’s past which included fighting Nazis in World War II and later being exiled from Spain. These details give us the spirit and intention of García’s vision for the Centro Ibérico. The center he founded served as a place for anarchists to meet and discuss ideas, and morphed into a venue for bands to play for a portion of the center’s twelve-year history.

Nick Soulsby’s writing is very accessible. His retelling of the anarchy movement paints a different picture than previously reported. The text is broken up by pages of pictures and newspaper clippings from Black Flag or other publications. Sometimes he provides the full articles to give context rather than break up the narrative. 

The book is very well researched and features interviews with a good number of people telling the history and personal histories of the Centro Ibérico, but it’s not overrun with interviews. They are actually more sparse than expected. There were sentiments that some of the true anarchists were upset at punks’ co-option of anarchy, mostly aimed at the Sex Pistols who seemed to be commercializing their ideas.

Soulsby’s book doesn’t just beguile us with politics. The anarcho-punk bands of the late 1970s and early 1980s have their roots intertwined with the center’s history. He also traces how the anarcho-punk scene emerged in regards to the center. For you Crass and Poison Girls fans, part of this book is a bit of an extended footnote on their histories, with both bands playing the Autonomy Centre, a meeting place and music venue put together by like-minded anarchists. Eagle-eyed fans would remember the mention of it in the liner notes of Crass’s Christ The Album. Even Wattie from The Exploited gets a mention in a somewhat funny exchange.

What is clear is that a scene was being built and funded by the bands and the people who wanted it to flourish. The Centro Ibérico may not have been as long-lasting as some of the venues, but it is still poignant in the ways communities grow. We’ve reached the point in punk rock history books where authors can fully flesh out aspects that were once footnotes in earlier pieces of work. I think it’s a good place to be, and Nick Soulsby’s book is a great read if you are into the scene’s history rather than just the music.

Pick it up here from PM Press.

Speaking of those color variants, we’ve got an exclusive first look at them for you collector nerds to salivate over. Check ’em out below and set a reminder to grab your copies when they go up for sale!!

Originally recorded in 2009 and now newly remastered for vinyl by J Powell at Steinhaus, Would Like a Few Words with You is loud and fast enough to tick off the neighbors and catchy and endearing enough that the neighbors will want to come over once they cool down a bit. They can be a bit uptight, but they’re all right once you get to know them, ya know?

In between Nerf Herder’s active times, lead singer, Parry Gripp has made a career out of making the same types of silly songs for a younger audience, but also jingles for brands like Wawa Food Markets and Hallmark Cards. Gripp has written themes and songs for a number of TV shows including The Super Hero Squad Show, Ben 10: Omniverse, and StoryBots Super Songs. In 2017, he won a Daytime Emmy for the song “I’m not Very Nice” from the Disney TV show the 7D based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

This year Nerf Herder celebrates thirty years of their self-titled LP. We talked to Parry about the record that started it all, its legacy and how it is still finding new fans three decades later.  

(Edited for clarity)

Parry Gripp: Sorry it took so long for us to finally talk, but here we are.

Dying Scene (Forrest Gaddis): No worries, man. Thank you for doing this. I’ve met you a couple of times at shows and you’re always so fun and cool to talk to. 

That’s very flattering. Thank you. What town do you live in?

I’m in Orange County. I saw you at Chain Reaction years ago. You guys played with Peelander Z.

OK, that’s going way back. That was 2006, I think.

Then we saw you about ten years ago at Slide Bar.

Oh, right. OK, yeah. Yeah, right. I remember that.

I do have to say my daughter was really excited that we are talking because she liked the StoryBots when she was younger. I played a little bit of Nerf Herder. She’s a teenager now, and getting into punk rock, I told her you wrote “Walk Like A Camel.”

I think “Walk Like A Camel” is my favorite song I’ve ever written. So I’m glad you referenced that.

It was funny because she was watching the show, and I’m like, “Are they ripping Parry from Nerf Herder off?” And then I look, and I’m like, “Oh, it’s Parry from Nerf Herder.”

That’s so funny.

How did Nerf Herder initially come together? 

We’re from Santa Barbara, which is a small town, and at the time, it was the mid to late 90s. Every person you knew was in a band. There was no Googling or anything like that. You just had to do something. And what do you do? Oh, you’re in a band. That’s kind of what everyone was doing. Steve and I went to the same high school; we had known each other for a while. Charlie was just a guy in other bands from around town. We just started playing together.

It’s a natural thing. Really, it’s unbelievable we’re still playing because at the time it was just a way to hang out with other people in bands. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a band. It’s just a way to have a social life. We were just excited to be playing at the Mexican restaurant with all the other bands around town. We weren’t super serious about it. I was really hoping that my girlfriend would be impressed and not dump me. So, that was a big motivator, too.

Who were the bigger bands in Santa Barbara at the time?

Lagwagon was from Santa Barbara, and they had been somewhat bigger at that point. There were touring bands. Toad the Wet Sprocket earlier was a huge band from Santa Barbara. Other bands that came out of that scene, like Summer Camp, who we’re playing with at this 30th-anniversary show in Santa Barbara, they got signed. Dishwalla was a big band that came out of that scene. They were just guys we all knew. It was kind of a small town, and still kind of a small town. It just was something to do. Everyone was in a band.

Was there ever a weird bill or a strange lineup that you were on in those early days that didn’t make sense, or was it just those bands essentially rotating out?

Because it was a small town, you ended up playing with just whoever was standing around. So, there were all kinds. I mean, I think the 90s was just this weird experimenting time for bands. There were grunge bands, punk bands, there were still metal bands, and there were folk rock bands. I think that you would play with weirdos all the time, but you didn’t really think about it.

What do you remember about the early shows?

Yeah, I mean, they were chaotic, and we just wanted to play. I think we had like six songs when we played our first show. It wasn’t like a full set. We basically just wanted to have enough songs to be able to get on stage for a little bit.

One thing I remember, we had been playing for a few months, and after a while, we came up with a cassette tape that had “Sorry” on it, and the local radio station played it. I remember at that point we were playing at Alex’s Cantina, which is a Mexican restaurant downtown. There were high school kids who couldn’t get in because it was a bar, standing outside and watching us through the window. I remember thinking, “Oh, that’s kind of neat that these kids had heard it on the radio.” Here they were, going downtown to watch us through the window at the Mexican restaurant. 

Was there a moment you realized the band was working better than you thought?

Yeah, I guess when Joey Cape from Lagwagon had us record our debut record, I mean, that seemed like a big step. We thought maybe it would be like playing L.A. and San Francisco and stuff like that. It happened really fast. We were signed to Arista, this big label, and we had a video on MTV. That was like, wow, this is it, it just seems insane. It’s still crazy to me. You sort of assume anything can happen at that point.

What was the time between you guys starting the band and you guys signing and getting on MTV?

I think it was a couple of years. It seemed fast. I mean, we were just having fun, playing different things, and then doing the record with Joey. That was really exciting. We didn’t know it would happen. Then “Van Halen,” our song, which is really dumb and goofy, was picked up by radio, and that just seems unbelievable. We just wrote that song to be funny for the people that were at the Mexican restaurant. We didn’t ever think that Sammy Hagar, Van Halen, or anyone like that would hear the song. That just seems crazy. It still seems crazy.

I know Sammy Hagar wasn’t initially enthused about the song. Has he ever said anything about it since then, or have you run into him?

I can imagine if someone sang that song about me, I would be really mad and bummed, too. So I totally understand that. The point of a lot of Nerf Herder songs is that the guy singing the song is kind of crazy. I call it a relatable idiot type person. I mean, I don’t really dislike Sammy Hagar, but the character singing the song does. He’s really mad about it. I don’t know, but I still don’t want to meet Sammy Hagar.

Although Sammy Hagar was on this PBS show, Finding Your Roots, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the show, but he was on that show and my wife watched it. She’s like, “Oh, you’ve got to watch this show about Sammy Hagar. You will love him after you watch it. Your heart will go out to him.” He had kind of a crazy life and a hard upbringing. I might have written a different song if it came out before we wrote Van Halen. I still think it’s a funny song.

Do you feel any different about any of the songs that you wrote outside of “Van Halen” since that time?

Not really, no. I mean, they’re all kind of satirical. They were kind of ridiculous when we wrote them. I still feel that way about them. It’s weird looking back at something you wrote thirty years ago. It’s sort of like you’re thinking about a different person, but I still like them. I think they’re funny. I think they’re silly.

I know you write a lot more kid-friendly stuff now. Have any of those kids become Nerf Herder fans? 

It’s funny. People bring their little kids to Nerf Herder shows. When I can, I explain, “Hey, Nerf Herder is different.” They’re always like, “We know.” The parents know they shouldn’t bring their kid to this thing. Recently, we’ve had a lot of younger people, like high school kids, coming to see Nerf Herder. I think it’s because they found How To Meet Girls. It’s weird to me. I’ve even asked them, “What are you doing here? You’re in high school.” They really like “Feeling Bad” and “Pervert.” They love the song “Pervert.” I can’t really advocate for that. It’s kind of strange, but I’m glad people are there.

I feel like everyone looks at things superficially and sometimes doesn’t get satirical references.

It’s really different the way people take things, but I feel like these people get it. I think people understand satire. Maybe they think it’s something new. The 90s were sort of an “anything goes” kind of era with what you could say. It was understood that it was satirical or you were kind of making fun of a certain culture or something like that, but now it hasn’t been like that. So, I don’t know. What can you do?

When you write a song, especially thirty years ago, you didn’t think about how things would change. It’s just out there. What can you do? You can’t change that.

Are there any tracks you don’t play anymore for any reason, whether content-wise or because it’s not your favorite song in general?

I try not to play any songs that are difficult. We came out with this album, Rockingham. The song, “The Girl Who Listened to Rush,” is just hard to play. I try to avoid playing that. Those other guys, Linus, Ben, and Steve, they’ll want to play it. I try to veto that, but sometimes we do anything that’s difficult to play or difficult to sing.

Is there anything you felt was a personal song off this album?

“Golfshirt” is kind of personal. I think a lot of the songs I would write from a personal perspective, and then I would change the lyrics. They were kind of more ridiculous. Like “Sorry,” it’s really over the top. If you toned it down, it would be like a guy really whining. So you bump it up and then it’s sort of funny. I think that they all have kind of personal elements to them.

Do you feel “Golfshirt” is an outlier on this record compared to some of the other songs?

It’s a little more serious, but it’s also ridiculous. The sound of it is a little different, right? I guess there isn’t a song quite like that on there.

Have you changed any of the lyrics over the years to keep the pop culture references up to date, or do you keep them as they are? 

We use the same references. Until recently, it was kind of the same people coming to see us. They would all get the reference.

What song from the album has surprised you the most that people love the most off that album?

Probably, “Nosering Girl,” just because it was really like a toss-off thing, with kind of ad-libbed lyrics, but people love that song; we always play it.

Were there any songs from these sessions that didn’t make the album but found a home later?

We had a song called “Hospital,” but I don’t think we recorded it that session.

How do you think the album fits into the larger pop-punk or nerd rock landscape in general?

I don’t know. I think it was sort of an earlier pop-punk record, but it has Weezer-y influences. We were really listening to NOFX, but we couldn’t play that fast. I think it fits in with the Fat Mike, NOFX-type stuff, the Weezer-type stuff, but a lot of it just has a Ramones thing. I don’t know how it fits. I hope it fits in; I don’t really know.

What’s the most unexpectedly cool thing that happened because of this album?

Oh, well, of course, having Mark Hamill in the video for “Sorry” was huge, but our whole having a record deal and getting to tour. I don’t think that would have happened without this record kind of starting it all for us. It’s weird to be thirty years later and still playing it; you just never imagine that you’ll be doing that.

How was it having Mark Hamill for the video for “Sorry”?

Oh, it was amazing. Oh, my God. It was great. That’s still like a high point in all of our lives. We were all such Star Wars fans, and to have Mark Hamill and Miguel Ferrer, he was amazing. I wish that we could have just hung out with Mark Hamill for the rest of our lives. I still can’t believe it. I look at the video. I’m like, I can’t believe Mark Hamill’s there yelling at us.

Did you figure this record would lead to a music career in general?

I don’t know, with a career in music, a lot of luck is involved in that. I think the whole time I was thinking, “Oh, this is going to stop and I’ll end up doing something else.” It’s been really lucky and strange.

My friends and I love For Those About The Shop…

I’m glad you got that.

We listened to that a lot.

Oh, I’m glad someone did.

Was that just you trying to show that you could do a bunch of different types of music?

I was just goofing around. Nerf Herder had kind of stopped, and it was just something to do for fun, the way you might take up woodworking or something. I was just like, “Oh, I’m going to write these songs.” When I had 50 of them, I thought, “I’ll see if someone will put this out.” “Do You Like Waffles?” is still a popular kids’ song. I don’t know how that happened, but it’s still getting played.

Was “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” your first musical work for TV? Like your first TV theme?

It was just a random thing. Some of the actors on the show liked our band, and they had us come up with something. They asked a bunch of bands, actually, and they liked what we came up with. It was again, sort of a luck kind of thing.

How long into Nerf Herder did that come out?

It was right when our record was being made and we were getting signed. Our first tour was with Weezer. We have a song about that. People back home were like, “Hey, we’re watching this TV show. You guys did the theme song.” It wasn’t like now where you just bring up YouTube or watch it online. There was none of that. You kind of relied on someone calling you on their landline. 

Are there any elements from old material that you find yourself returning to in music now?

All of it. I mean, we try to regain that. The first record was so organic, and there was no real thought put into it. You try to mine that stuff again because it seemed like magic at the time. I think a lot of that, if you listen to Nerf Herder records, you’re like, “Whoa, these all sound kind of similar.”

Especially when you added the keyboard, was it the second or third record?

Yes, that’s the second record we did. We couldn’t play the keyboard too well.

You’re doing an anniversary show in Santa Barbara, a European tour, and an acoustic version of the album. 

There’s some debate about whether it’s acoustic or not. All the guitars are acoustic, but the drums… I guess drums are normally acoustic. It’s kind of the same energy as the first record, just done with acoustic guitars. There are a few surprises in there, but I don’t know. It’s interesting. The initial idea was just for it to be like one microphone and us playing around the microphone. It’s turned into a produced version of the first record with acoustic guitars. You wouldn’t mistake one for the other.

Is it, for lack of a better term, like a Violent Femmes version of the first album?

Yeah, it’s kind of like a Violent Femmes version. Maybe not as out of control as that, but that was sort of the idea. Ben Pringle is playing his acoustic bass. Linus and I both play acoustic guitars. It was really fun to do. It’s fun to work on a record where you already have these songs so you don’t have to worry about messing with them, though we did mess with them a little bit. I’m excited to hear it when it comes out.

It’s coming out on Fat Wreck Chords. When we first started, Fat distributed the record. They were kind of there from the beginning. We’ve always been friends with them. It’s very exciting. The guy who kind of masterminded that was our drummer, Steve Sherlock. It was really his idea. He took it to Fat and they were like, “We’ll put this out.” I didn’t really think that would happen, but now that it’s happening, it’s great.

Are you guys incorporating these versions into the set? 

We don’t really know. We’re going to get together at some point and figure out what we’re doing for these shows. We’re definitely playing the whole first record. I can’t imagine we would do some of it acoustically; we’ll see.

Are you guys working on any new music, or just focusing on the first record right now?

We’re really focusing on the first record. We have a lot of half-written songs where the bands played all the backing tracks, and they just need words and stuff like that. There are definitely things being worked on, slowly though.

“Warm Room, Good Friends” honors 3^rd wave ska with pop punk riffs and catchy chorus parts, with lyrics that connect to the modern generation.  Imagine if Less Than Jake or Spring Heeled Jack sang about social media and DMs.  Musically, the horn section is great and the vocals have a wide range that makes it easy to go from ska to hardcore, which they take full advantage of in songs like ’20 Million in 20s’ and ‘IKN4d’ (this song features Adam Davis of the band Omnigone, who has arguably perfected this vocal range). 

‘Beyond Burgers in Paradise’ has a super fun horn section that’s super easy to get stuck in your head.  Nathan Dantzler goes back and forth from trumpet to trombone throughout the album, but this is the song that best exemplifies the simplicity of Sorry Sweetheart’s horns.  They don’t exactly stand out on their own, but they do add a significant amount of emotion to each song. 

The track ‘Touch Grass’ is another standout from this album.  Its emotional lyrics about mental health and ‘warm room, good friends’, plus the powerful vocals of singer Henry Navarre make this one of the best songs on the album.  ‘Touch Grass’ ditches the danceable upbeat of ska for an emo/pop punk ballad that should resonate to anybody going through a tough time. 

“Thicc Grinch’ is another fun ska punk tune that’s short, but definitely one of the most fun songs on the album. 

The closing song ‘Late Nights in the Bug Room’ can serve as a final takeaway to listeners that you can enjoy being part of the scene (“I still think hardcore and pop punk are cool”), while still having some morals (“It doesn’t take much to learn some better principles”).  I’m glad this was the final song; it has the most meaning behind it.  The chorus part is going to be super easy to sing to at their shows.

Sorry Sweetheart started from veterans of ska Leslie Hackworth (bass) and Zach Barker (drums), and for almost 10 years that have held down the Denver ska scene with positivity and not being told what to do. Their first full length can be seen as a tribute to the mainstream ska scene that was on Warped Tours and MTV, while also delivering some great originality.  Put this album on at the skate park or if you’re feeling nostalgic, then you’re bound to have a good time.

“Warm Room, Good Friends” is available for purchase on Bandcamp.

While lyrically these songs have the same snark as their previous EP, Combobox comes out much more aggressive and biting here. The music is faster on the first half, but also heavier and darker on the second half. “The Party” is a great start to the EP. It’s fast and catchy. The fun riffs from the first album are there, too. The breakdown of this song seems to pivot into Pixies territory with its clean surf-like guitars before speeding back up for an abrupt ending. The song structure stuck with me on this album.

The second track, “The Sermon,” is even faster and riffier than “The Party,” and works just as well. Musically, there is enough DNA from the last EP that it doesn’t sound too different, but it definitely moves their sound forward. Lyrically, these first two songs remind me of Jello Biafra and their way of making the narrator’s thoughts ridiculous until they’re poignant. On the surface, these lyrics are a little silly, but a closer look reveals much more to them.

“Meanwhile” and “The Road” are slower and heavier, but great nonetheless. “Meanwhile” is probably my favorite song off the album, starting off with a humorous exchange during a bank robbery gone awry because of an argument about face masks. Whether or not these songs follow the same narrator, each track feels like its own short story, a self-contained misadventure with its own stakes.

Combobox has done it again; they manage to squeeze in four fantastic songs into about ten minutes, leaving you clamoring for more. This EP is proof that Combobox isn’t just refining their sound; they’re expanding it. Their talent for writing music and biting lyrics shines through even more this time around. Their use of humor, commentary, and satire to point out the stupidities of the world is becoming a signature, not just a quirk. Pick up Combobox’s Here We Go Again! It is available digitally and on cassette from their Bandcamp.

Combobox has some shows coming up. Go and see them if you can:

3/6 – Portland, OR – Kenton Club (EP Release Party)

3/7 – Eugene, OR – Ghost Town Outfitters

4/18 – Roseburg, OR – Rosebud Theater

4/19 – Kaizer, OR – Radness Ensues

The late 1990s were an interesting time. While things were much less complicated and less tense than they are now, the seeds of these factors were planted over twenty years ago. Sheasby’s intro discusses the almost prophetic way Green Day’s American Idiot foreshadowed the direction of politics. This leads into a brief history of MTV and its eventual offspring, MTV2, and how shows like the Carson Daly-hosted Total Request Live (TRL for you cool kids) shaped music during this time.

Sheasby profiles some of the bigger acts of that time: Eminem, Marilyn Manson, and Blink-182. It also covers how each of these artists shaped pop culture in some way, whether it was Marilyn Manson’s attempts to shock the world or the influence of Nu-Metal and the ape-like douchebaggery that came from it. It’s interesting to look back at how things aged, whether good or bad, and consider if it was due to the initial criticisms given. Sheasby’s assessment can be a little glossed over, but it does mention that some documentaries provide more detail on some of these relics.

There are a few interviews with behind-the-scenes people, such as P.R. Brown, who was a music video director and graphic designer for some of the bigger names of the era. The interview with music biographer Joel McIver was interesting, as he talked about what it was like covering the new rock stars of that time. One thing I agree with and am learning is true is that the heavier the music, the nicer the person. These interviews give perspective but don’t add too much to the overall conversation.

The book seemingly takes inspiration from Chuck Klosterman’s books of essays on pop culture, except it’s zeroed in on this second generation of MTV artists trying to make their own mark for better or worse. Choosing this era will resonate with adults of a certain age and most sociology students, but it may not appeal to people outside those groups.

That being said, Sheasby’s writing is super accessible. Teenage Dirtbags: A Brief History of the MTV2 Generation is a quick read; it’s under two hundred pages and is a nice stroll down memory lane. Jon Sheasby’s takes are spot-on, even if they’re a bit scant. If you’re looking for a small window into the past, Jon Sheasby’s book is for you. Teenage Dirtbags: A Brief History of the MTV2 Generation is available at Tucker DS Press.

Hodges’s book leans into the “youth” of Hated Youth more than anything, and that’s where it finds its real pulse. While not as big as some of the bands worshipped at the punk rock altar, Hated Youth had their time in the sun. Hodges details his adolescence as a stoner-metal kid getting in trouble and being sent to the principal’s office. Eventually, he is sent to the School of Analytical Reasoning, a hippie high school, as Hodges would describe it. This is where he meets his future bandmate Eric and transforms into a mohawked punk rocker.

Adolescent mythology walks a fine line between the experimentation of extremes and the embracing of familiar norms. While his friendship with bass player Eric had flourished, John was sometimes a third wheel to Eric and his girlfriend Lucia as they pushed their own boundaries. These adventures, punctuated with multiple screenings of the movie The Road Warrior, give the book a cinematic and feral energy. Despite varying degrees of intensity, the activities aren’t so different from other generations of kids growing up.

A lot of stories recounting the origins of bands coming together start to fall into the same tropes. What makes them great is the presentation. Hodges’s writing is accessible. It moves fast and keeps the reader locked in. There were many times I didn’t want to put the book down. Hodges’ memories are super clear, and the story itself is compelling. While the band may be the catalyst, the real jolts come from the tales in between the shows.

At this point, many punk rockers have told their stories about how they got into punk. Each of these stories is different but shares the same emotional weight in terms of what it meant to them and how it shaped their lives. Hodges’ book still manages to stick out. Kill The Punks: A Hated Youth Memoir feels much more personal than other books about youth and punk rock. The writing is raw and feels closer to something like Henry Rollins’s Get in the Van. The advantage here is that Hodges has many more years of writing under his belt, and it shows.

As if the book wasn’t enough, you can see the Tallahassee Pioneers of Punk from March 5th to March 8th. The exhibition celebrating the underground scene will be on display at 621 Gallery. There will be sets from some bands of the Tallahassee scene playing at the Bark. Bands like Persian Gulf, Insect Fear, Hated Youth, Silly Wabbit, and Frankenfinger will all be playing sets.

In the meantime, you can get Kill The Punks: A Hated Youth Memoir by John Oliver Hodges in either paperback or ebook from Amazon.

Fri 03/13 – The Spaze – Columbia, SC

Sat 03/14 – Melon Barn – Greer, SC

Sun 03/15 – Fleetwoods – Asheville, NC

Sun 03/22 – Scrap Collective – Roanoke, VA

Tue 03/24 – Chapel of Bones – Raleigh, NC

Wed 03/25 – Alley Cat Records – Greenville, NC

Thu 03/26 – The Byrd Nest – Salisbury, NC

Fri 03/27 – The Milestone – Charlotte, NC

Sat 03/28 – “What For Fest” Pilot Light – Knoxville, TN

Sun 03/29 – The Hideaway – Johnson City, TN

Tue 03/31 – Sly Grog – Asheville, NC

Wed 04/01 – Mean Mels – Cookeville, TN

Thu 04/02 – CXR Punkhouse – Murfreesboro, TN

Fri 04/03 – JJs Bohemia – Chattanooga, TN

Sat 04/04 – The Nick – Birmingham, AL

Sun 04/05 – Boggs – Atlanta, GA

Tue 04/07 – Pexcho’s – Augusta, GA

Wed 04/08 – Monstercade – Winston-Salem, NC

Thu 04/09 – Ground Zero – Spartanburg, SC

Fri 04/10 – The Spaze – Columbia, SC

Sat 04/11 – Brewer’s Kettle – Kernersville, NC

Sun 04/12 – Zeitgeist Gallery – Durham, NC

Kyle Knight’s Four Records:

0-10: Queen – Classic Queen

Teenage: Ween – Pure Guava

Twenties: The Moldy Peaches – S/T

Recent Record: Vic Chesnutt – West of Rome

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www.DyingScene.com

Opening song: Rad Skulls – Loud as Shit

Closing song: Lucas Perea – Underneath Ashes

The more I went backward and listened to the earlier waves of ska, the more I became disconnected from what was being fed to me on the radio. Discovering bands like The Specials, The English Beat, and Operation Ivy instilled in me the conviction that this music was intended to address social issues, racism, and politics, with these themes at the forefront. As I heard more songs off their self-titled record, it didn’t take too long to give in. Once I purchased and listened to the record, I learned what I had been missing out on. While the lead single, “Here in Your Bedroom,” was a ska pop-punk song that featured many of the tropes that turned me off to third-wave, the record draws cues from a variety of other genres, including punk, metal, and even a touch of jazz.

This year, Goldfinger’s self-titled album celebrates its thirtieth anniversary. Guitar player Charlie Paulson was kind enough to talk to Dying Scene about the making of their self-titled record and its place in ska-punk history.

Dying Scene (Forrest Gaddis): Thank you for your time, Charlie.

Charlie Paulson: Of course. First of all, I have a question for you. Why this record?

Why this record? I love this record. I didn’t at first; it took me a minute to get into it. I just kept hearing more and more songs off it. I was a dumb punk rock kid who was like, “This isn’t punk rock. This isn’t ska.” I heard more. I was like, “Why am I being stupid about this?” I just ended up buying it and I had a whole summer where I listened to it.

Yeah, a lot of you were not alone in that appraisal.

How did the band form? 

I knew Feldy from around Hollywood because he was in a band (The Electric Love Hogs) that me and a bunch of my friends would go see at the time in LA. Punk was sort of dormant; there wasn’t a whole lot happening that was exciting around that time, the early 90s. We had L7, Bad Religion. There wasn’t a whole lot beyond that. It was before alternative was happening, bands like Jane’s Addiction and Fishbone. Those were the bands that sort of took the place of punk rock.  The Electric Love Hogs were not really that metal. They played shows with all those bands. They were a great live band. So I knew Feldy from that.

I worked for the band a couple of times and I crashed on his couch. That’s how we became friends. We talked a lot about how we loved The Buzzcocks, The Clash, and The Specials, and shit like that. When the Love Hogs sort of ran their course, I saw him out one day just hanging out. He asked, “Hey, I want you to hear something?” 

I went out to his little fucking Dodge, this little fucking beater. He popped in a cassette and was playing me a bunch of like these little, it was just him and an acoustic guitar, playing these pop punk songs. I’m like, “That’s cool.” He looks at me and he’s like, “Well, would you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, “Do you want to start a band?” He knew that I loved a lot of the same music that he did. That’s sort of how it started. We auditioned a couple of drummers who were terrible. Then I went on tour as a guitar tech on a Danzig tour. He wound up putting an early version of Goldfinger together with a different guitar player. While I was on tour, that guitar player overdosed and was in rehab.

When I got home from the tour, I knew that Feldy always had an insane work ethic. I knew he probably already had a bunch of shows booked and no guitar player. So I called him. I said, “Look, I will fill in for Steve while he’s in the hospital.” I did, and they didn’t want Steve back. That’s the very abridged version.

From those acoustic songs that Feldman had, to when you went to the studio, how long did it take for those to come together?

A couple of years. I mean, he probably first approached me in like ‘93. Then I joined the band a year later. I mean, it wasn’t a band. He still had commitments and shit with his other band.

He didn’t really put Goldfinger together for a year, maybe. It took him a while to find people. I would say a couple years from that first conversation we had to the release of the first record, that was three years.

Where did you guys record the album?

We did it at this studio in Santa Monica, right by the beach, called Media Ventures. I didn’t like it because it was really sterile. They recorded a lot of soundtracks there and things like that. They had never recorded a straight-up rock band. So, we got it at kind of a discount because they didn’t really know what they were doing. I didn’t like it because it was really clean. The walls were beige. It looked like a dentist’s office.

I remember saying that. The first day that we went in to start tracking drums, somebody brought in a bunch of Bob Marley and Sex Pistols posters. I appreciated the effort.

The record is raw, but it’s still kind of clean at the same time. Was that because of where you guys were recording it, or is that just the sound John Feldman had in his head?

That was part of it, but Feldy was also meticulous about it. He really wanted it to sound like a real album. He didn’t want it to sound like demos. I think we may have overcorrected a little bit. What’s really funny about that, though, is as anal as he was, that record is totally out of tune. If you sit down with a guitar and try to play along with that record, it’s gonna drive you crazy because it’s just not in tune. If you just listen to the album, it sounds fine. But when you try to play along with it with a tuned guitar, it is wildly out of tune.

You do what the pop-punk bands were doing, where you kind of have your jokey songs, but even those are presented with reverence.

Well, part of that was when I joined the band; we all sort of adapted to John’s work ethic. We rehearsed at least four hours a day, five days a week. I mean, we rehearsed, like, fucking crazy. We were super fucking tight. We did a Sno-Core kind of tour right before that record came out. In January and February, we were on the road with this hardcore band from New York called Dog Eat Dog and Ugly Kid Joe. So, by the time we wanted to track that record, we were fucking razor sharp.

And you hear it too.

Yeah, that’s part of why that record sounds like that. We were so fucking tight. I remember at the end of that tour, we came home and we played a show at the Whisky. My friends were like, “What the fuck?” It didn’t feel any different to us because we were doing it every night. Nothing tightens a band up like the road. We came home off that tour. The next day, we had a show at the Whisky. The day after that, we loaded into the studio to start tracking.

Were there any songs you fought hard for in terms of arrangement, tempo, or feel, or was it just all what Feldman had in his brain and he wanted it out?

Those first three records, Feldy would come in with the song, and it was about 80% there. Then the band would sort of beat it into shape, write our own parts, and all that sort of thing. The way we make records now is wildly different. Back then, it was very organic. You know what I mean? We had a shitty rehearsal room downtown. Feldy would come in, and he would say, “I have an idea, and I kind of want this feel.”

Then we would sort of build it around there. I wrote a lot. I wrote most of that song, “Answers.” I wrote part of “Nothing To Prove,” “Mable.” Those were definitely like band compositions. Feldy would come in with chords and melody and lyrics. Sometimes I wrote a lot of lyrics. The band would just sort of beat them into shape. When we’d go on the road, they would really kind of come into their own.

How many of these songs still survive the set?

Currently? It depends. Not enough. I wish we had played a lot more from the first couple records, but we still play “Here in Your Bedroom.” We still play “Mable.” We played “Mind’s Eye” a couple of times, and it kind of broke my heart because we hadn’t played it in years. We played it, and it’s just kind of like, I’m not sure how many people that still come see us were familiar with the song, which bummed me out. I mean, there are a lot of songs on that record I wish we still played. I wish we still played “Stay.” I really miss “Only A Day.” I really like to play “King For A Day.”

I hated it at the time because I thought it was too clean. I thought it was too polished. Now, I go back and listen to it, and it really just sounds like four dudes in a room. My punk and John’s punk were different. He came up on super poppy stuff. He loved the Buzzcocks, the Descendents, and the Adolescents Blue Album. Those sound like crazy punk rock records now. Back then, those bands were considered pop punk because they sang harmonies.

I remember people kind of thought they were the Beach Boys of punk. Bad Religion definitely took a heavy cue from them, especially, the Blue Album. Bad Religion with all their harmonies and their arrangements. By the time the ‘90s rolled around, the natural evolution of all the early pop punk that John was listening to turned into bands like NOFX and Green Day. That was sort of the trajectory that Feldy was on and what he sort of wanted to accomplish with that record. 

My punk rock bands were Fear and X. We did have some common denominators. I also loved Bad Religion and the Adolescents, but I liked sort of nastier shit, you know what I mean? When we were making that record, I’m like, “This doesn’t sound anything like Black Flag.” I thought it was overproduced, but now I listen to it and it’s pretty fucking raw. 

Were the first three albums on Mojo, or just the first two?

The first three. There was also, there was also an EP in there. We did Darrin’s Coconut Ass. 

When you guys were recording it, did you have any idea that this would be a classic album for people?

Not at all. I mean, when Goldfinger started, I was crashing on Feldy’s couch. I was like this homeless squatter punk. I was living in squats off Hollywood Boulevard or crashing on people’s couches. When Goldfinger started, I was sleeping in a closet. Next thing I know, I’m in his studio and I’m making a fucking record.

It was very much, I can afford to feed myself. It was really funny when we started getting all the backlash about being major label sellouts, rock stars, and all this shit. For the first time in my life, I can afford to go have fucking eggs and bacon down the street from my house. My house being literally a closet in somebody’s guest house. People were like, “You fucking big time sellout.”

I’m like, “You can suck my fucking dick.”

As far as legacy, no. I just knew I could buy a new pair of Vans if I wanted them. That was it. I was so in the moment.

What do you think people misunderstand about that era of punk and ska in general?

That all the things that now get associated with punk won’t really stick. I don’t think Goldfinger was a punk band. I think we were a really tight pop band that had heavy punk and ska influences. I mean, we weren’t really blazing new territory. All our songs were about girls. It wasn’t like we were really challenging. I think the most punk Goldfinger ever was, we used to fight with cops and bouncers a lot. I mean, fight like winding up in the hospital because we would be sticking up for kids or that sort of thing. We were more punk in spirit than musically. Then when we got heavy into animal rights, that was pretty fun.

Dookie is not really a punk record to me. People refer to Bon Jovi as a metal band, you know, forty years later, and there’s nothing fucking metal about Bon Jovi. I think time has a weird way of like blurring those lines.

Everybody was like, “Oh, it’s a ska album.” There are like, four songs that are really ska songs.

There’s not even really a full on ska song on the record. There’s songs with ska parts.

Maybe you could probably get away with calling “Pictures” a ska song.

Even then it’s got that metal breakdown. Like I said, we have punk and ska influences. We also have metal influences. There’s a little bit of jazz on that record. I’m not splitting hairs at this point. If you want to call us a punk band, that’s fine.

What’s the most surprising way you’ve seen this album resonate with the newer generation?

We’re in a funny timeframe for us. When we go out and play shows, we still sell a lot of fucking tickets, but now it’s like you can tell our audience are people that were teenagers when that record came out. They’re in their forties and they’re bringing their kids. I’ll meet an eight-year-old kid who is learning how to play guitar to “Mind’s Eye” or “Mable.”

I mean, obviously, it’s an influence of their parents, but you know, that eight-year-old kid is still listening to that first record. In fact, we did a show, I don’t know, last year at some point. We always invite people up on stage during “Mable.” This kid, he was maybe twelve. He’s on stage and he’s pointing to my guitar. He goes, “Can I play?”

I’m like, “Do you know this?”

And he said, “Yes.” I just hung my guitar on this kid. He played Mable. It was awesome. I liked it. It’s kind of weird that there are a bunch of kids on stage with John singing a song about my dick. It’s certainly uncomfortable for me.

What felt bigger at the time: to have your first album released or to be asked to have “Superman” on the Tony Hawk game? I know “Superman” is not on this album, but what felt bigger?

The first album, for sure. That was life-changing for us. I was literally living in a closet at $80 a week. Then four months later, I’m in Times Square seeing my fucking album cover 10 feet in the air. That completely changed my entire fucking life. The Tony Hawk thing is funny because we were on a lot of soundtracks and video games. All the music supervisors in charge of finding music for films and TV shows were looking for the new, current thing. Bands like us, No Doubt, and The Offspring were on all the soundtracks, so we got asked to be on a video game.

We thought it was cool that it was Tony Hawk because we all skated; we didn’t really think anything of it. I was stoked that we were there with the Dead Kennedys; that meant a lot to me. I didn’t really think anything of it until we got to Europe later that year. We’re playing like 500 seater clubs, we kick into “Superman” and the place would go fucking nuts. At the time, “Superman” was just another song. We just throw it in the middle of the set and their going fucking ape shit for that song. We’re like, what the fuck is happening?It was because of Tony Hawk. So that song is our song. Now, that song is absolutely the thing we’ll be remembered for. Yeah, at the time, it was a slow burn. It did not take off at first. Yeah, it took a while.

Thanks, Charlie.

Goldfinger recently released their latest album, NINE LIVES, last month, and it’s fantastic. Check out Jacob’s review of it, here.  

Last Saturday, Chicago’s Bottom Lounge came alive with ICE OUT: a powerful showcase of Chicago’s vibrant music scene united in solidarity with Minnesota after the murder of Renée Good, a Minneapolis resident brutally murdered by an ICE agent in January 2026. The lineup featured local punk & rock legends, including Deanna Belos of Sincere Engineer, Josh Caterer of the Smoking Popes, Scott Lucas of Local H and Stubhy Pandav / Pat Gilroy of Lucky Boys Confusion & OneLife.

I sat down with Deanna, Josh, and Stubhy to talk ICE before the benefit show, where we grew to share our thoughts about Chicago, rock music, and how the recent events in Minneapolis are a testament to how we must all come together in trying times.

When asked what the opportunity to play this show meant to them, Josh Caterer explained that standing in solidarity with Minneapolis felt like extending an arm to a Midwest neighbor. Something so horrible happening so nearby felt so personal, and this show was the amalgamation of all of those feelings.

During Trump’s first term, when “the wall” between the United States and Mexico became a huge part of his campaign, Caterer explained that it felt like our fights could only take place over the internet. Having events like these transpire in our Midwestern backyard felt so close, and they needed to do something about it. That’s why when the chance to play Bottom Lounge’s ICE OUT benefit show arose, Caterer immediately opted in.

Kaustubh “Stubhy” Pandav was alive with passion when speaking about his personal experiences with immigration in his family. He spoke about union, food, and the privilege of growing up in a community with such a vivacious cultural background to share with friends from outside cultures. But from those joys came triumph and hardship, dating back to his own father’s journey to America.

“My father was invited over after the Civil Rights Act passed in the 60s,” Pandav recounted. “What [the government] did was they cherry-picked people from China, India, and the Philippines, and those were the first people to come over. And my father was a part of that. So growing up in the 80s in all of this, it was real tough.” We spoke more. Pandav went on to say, “Back then, I remember there being a lot of ‘go back to your own country,’ and I remember thinking… ‘you fucking invited us’.”

I wondered if there was any hesitation or anxiety in accepting this opportunity, like the idea that social media comments might turn into real-life hate at this show, to which Belos said, “Honestly, saying yes was a no-brainer. I’m happy to do my part – our part – in something that feels more than just yelling online.”

I asked about the context of Belos, Caterer, and Pandav’s music in reference to the present, or ultimately, whether or not performing these songs that were written in the past became a different experience in the context of the current political and social climate. To which Caterer replied, in perhaps breaking news to the fans of the Smoking Popes (or at least to the room I was in), revealing that “Simmer Down” off of the 2016 EP Simmer Down (and their subsequent 2018 full-length Into The Agony) was written about the excitement surrounding Bernie Sanders’ campaign. 

He went on to explain that he had never written a political song until that song was released, noting that the results of the 2016 election certainly played a part in his motivation. We spoke about how the 2016 presidential election changed the political climate entirely, eventually just snowballing into the calamity that ensues daily in the United States, including but not limited to the death of Renee Good. 

“I never realized how much I love America, and how patriotic I felt until this guy came along and started trying to dismantle democracy.” Continuing, Caterer remarked, “We need to protect these precious freedoms. These are freedoms that have been fought for, and now we’ve handed the keys to a guy that’s going to try to burn them all down.” We all highlighted how liberating it was to see Chicago host so many protests about ICE, to which Belos, Caterer, and Pandav all spoke on how beautiful it is for people to come together and to share their voice nonviolently. These protests singlehandedly prove that change can be made peacefully but still loudly and prominently – an act that is attempting to be recreated at a show like ICE OUT.

Pandav expressed, “We’ve seen this shift to extreme madness; some people are always going to be extreme, but there are a lot of people here that we can convince with things like this.” Passionately said, Pandav stated, “Hopefully, people like us can inspire other people to change.”

A sound like Sincere Engineer’s allows fans to release their energy through the vessel of music, so I decided to ask Belos whether or not she feels like she channels that when performing songs like “Fireplace” or even “Overbite.” Belos explained, she loves to make something that’s an escape for people. She aims to create something that’s “life-affirming and communal”.

Caterer went on to add that he believes that one of the functions of their art is to give people a collective voice, something that is released once but is enjoyed millions of times over, giving a demographic of people a feeling. The amount of money raised from the ICE OUT show would be donated to help people in Minneapolis through these trying times, in an attempt to “encourage participation in a movement that is resistant to what we are seeing in the world right now,” in Caterer’s own words.

“This won’t be the last benefit show that we do for something. I hope that it’s the beginning of many efforts to do that.”

Written by Waverly Cayo, @scenesicknessradio for Dying Scene. Photos by Meredith Goldberg