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Mostly True

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:44:34 PST

I spray painted my first train in 1983. I tried to do Black Flag's “Four bars,” but they ended up looking like four non-descript lines. My other attempt at train graffiti was an attempt to spray paint an anarchy symbol and a peace symbol. The peace symbol, I later realized, was in fact a Mercedes logo. Later on, while I was living in Berkeley, my friends and I would hop on the slow-moving trains and ride to Gilman Street. Until one night, when my friend fell and lost his foot. My affair with trains was officially over. I met a punk guy in Maui a few years back and he told me how he and his friends rode trains all over the country, going from town to town—punk festival to New Orleans—so, apparently, train-hopping is something that people do. In Mostly True, hobo train-riding graffiti legends Bozo Texino and Herby are featured. Many of their chalk drawings on a variety of trains are depicted in detailed photos. Many of the train graffiti-ists describe their art as an addiction of sorts, something they are compelled to do. If you're looking for a window into train and graffiti culture, this seems like a great place to start. –Steve Hart (Microcosm, 636 SE 11^th Ave., Portland, OR 97214)

Bicycle!: A Repair & Maintenance Manifesto (second edition)

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:41:28 PST

I enjoy biking around Boston. It's not a bad biking town, although it comes with its share of hazards. Having a bike here requires it to be in tip-top shape. While I take my bike to Bikes Not Bombs for upkeep, others, like my roommate, prefer to do most work on their own. A book like Bicycle! is meant for people such as her, as well as bike messengers and mechanics—anyone who works on bikes regularly.

Bicycle! is broken down into chapters that go in depth about the various parts that make up the bike: frames, headsets, wheels, handlebars, brakes, and more. There are also chapters on winter riding, on-the-road repairs, different geared bikes, and even building your own bike. The material in here is detailed and thorough, with photographs and drawings that show parts and materials that comprise a bike.

While the material may be more detailed than a basic bicyclist may need, author Sam Tracy has plenty experience with repairing bikes (including in the African country of Mauritania) to know what he's talking about. Written in paragraph form, he writes of ways to improve one's bike as well as simple fixes for what ails it. Overall, Bicycle! seems thorough and comes from an author who is quite knowledgeable in the field. Unfortunately, for someone like myself who is a more casual bicyclist, it was a bit over my head. But for anyone interested in taking on the maintenance aspect of their bicycle, this is recommended. –Kurt Morris (PM Press, PO 23912, Oakland, CA 94623)

Japanoise: Music at the Edge of Circulation

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:39:52 PST

After spending a number of years as a student in academia, I've noticed that a new generation of academics (Generation X and younger) have become fairly transparent about their interest as to why they are in academia: they are nerds and nerd out on certain subject matter. Older generations of academics were nerds, too, but they hid their love for a subject under a sense of respectable educational maturity and calmness. They would rarely be called “fanboys” or “fangirls” for whatever subject got them educationally stimulated.

For more recent generations of academics, however, academia is one of the few places in the world where they are allowed to not just nerd out but also get paid for it. If one looks at the theses and dissertations written—and how finite and exclusive they are—academics are either scraping the bottom of the barrel with subject matter or have finally thrown away any premonitions of writing with the grandeur of their elders about topics on a larger scale. Instead, they're writing books (not just articles, but books) about such topics as the bone histology of fossil tetrapods, the world of Sicilian wine, and Japanese noise artists. (Shit, I wrote a masters thesis on 1970s Christian “scare” films and I'm pretty sure no one else—including my advisor—really cared.) It's the last topic—Japanese noise artists—that is the subject of Japanoise; a subject the author concedes is small, but interesting.

From the start, it's fairly obvious the author, David Novak (a professor of music at University of California at Santa Barbara), is a fan of Japanese noise “music.” (Whether or not music is the appropriate term for what is created is a question Novak discusses in his book, hence my use of quotation marks.) His research is built upon work he did in Japan from 1998 to 2008. The seven chapters in the book discuss a range of topics related to the noise scene including: cassette culture, show spaces, and Merzbow (of course). The book starts, however, with a lengthy introduction that grew from inviting to academic in nature. I grew so annoyed with it that I eventually had to stop reading, as it was clear it was meant for the few academics in the field of music who also might find noise music interesting.

The rest of the text fluctuates between those previously mentioned parts: academic and fanboy. Novak is at his best when he describes the performers in their element. He captures the energy, intensity, and passion these artists display. There were often times I really wanted to be in the place he was describing and to experience what he experienced because the noise shows seemed so exciting. Novak is also a good storyteller. He's the scene historian who can guide the reader effortlessly through the important names and places in the history of the Japanese noise scene. He makes it interesting and educational at the same time.

Unfortunately, not as much of the book focuses on the narrative as would have been preferable. Novak is also an academic and Japanoise is published on an academic press, so there's obviously going to be a good amount of that type of material. Paragraphs are spent referring to other research and defining terminology in the context of the Japanese noise scene. It can be quite boring, if not confusing, for most readers. Chapters dealing with such topics as noise as a post-World War II history of Japanese media reception and noise as a humanistic critique of techno-culture don't necessarily invite the non-academic reader. Instead, they alienate all but the academic audience, which, as mentioned earlier, is likely to be very small for such a topic.

I understand how academic presses work and what academic audiences want. You've got to show you can publish articles and books if you want tenure at most schools. I also know (as much as it's possible) what punk rockers and music history fans desire. Novak has written what I assume is an accurate academic text (I don't have any experience in the academic field of music) for his field, but does so at the detriment of not utilizing his full fanboy passion of Japanese noise. I'm not even much of a fan of noise music, but should Novak ever write a non-academic history of noise music, I'm certain it would be excellent and I would enjoy reviewing it. –Kurt Morris (Duke University Press, 905 West Main St., Suite 18B, Durham, NC 27701)

Unsinkable (How to Build Plywood Pontoons & Longtail Boat Motors Out of Scrap)

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:37:52 PST

I fell in love with Mark Twain's books, Adventures of Huck Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer when I was growing up. The idea of unsupervised adventure into dangerous and unknown territories frightened and intrigued me. When I was around twelve, a friend and I tried to make a dugout canoe, only to end up pushing a log into Lake Michigan and riding it for a half-mile in the undercurrent. Building a pontoon boat was high on my priorities as a kid. Unfortunately, by the time my building skills caught up to my ambition, I had already lost interest. When I received this book for review, I instantly handed it to my twelve-year-old son, who was at work with me and bored out of his skull. He devoured this book. There are a few features on how to build a pontoon boat and a DIY bike trailer. However, the adventure stories are what drew my attention. In fact, drunken debauchery while floating down the Mississippi on a pontoon boat should draw everyone's attention. This is well worth your time. –Steve Hart (Microcosm Publishing, 636 SE 11^th Ave., Portland, OR 97214)

Spit and Passion

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:34:45 PST

If anything, Cristy Road is super prolific, to the point of being ubiquitous. Over the years, I've been both super annoyed by her work and genuinely impressed. I've gone from being bored shitless by her “went here/did this” stories of punk travel in her zine Green Zine, to totally immersed in writing she's done on race and class. I've been completely irritated by trite drawings she's done of open-mouthed punks in dumpsters shocking suited yuppies, to enamored by surrealistic and saintly portraits she's done of people who could be her friends. Or, just as easily, someone any of us could know, elevating the mundane to the sublime. And, frankly, I'd just as soon have it this way. I'd rather have someone keep things interesting, even if it means being a bit spotty at times, than a reliable one-trick pony.

The thing with Road is that she's been in punk for a long time and, as a result, her distinct, black and white illustration style is as recognizable as Cometbus's handwriting to anyone who's been involved in DIY punk for the last decade. And as time passes, I see less of the wide-eyed posi-fetishism that I found frustrating and a more distinct take on her punk rock world, with thick lines of realism slipping into the visceral hearts and blood that symbolize the radiant and near-divine passion of her and her community.

Spit and Passion is a thick graphic novel about Cristy's attempt to come to terms with her queerness at thirteen. It's not so much a story of her coming out, but more her staying in the closet. Her identification with Green Day, and how the band empowered her, gave her some of her only clues to another life being out there. She describes the conflict she had with being proud of her Cuban heritage but feeling like an outsider when faced by the homophobia of her family and friends.

A cold way to put it would be to say that it's simply a great piece of music journalism, documenting how something as simple as an ex-punk band could be so influential to a young girl, leaving breadcrumbs to a better life where she could be out as queer and wouldn't be stuck in her youthful closet. But that would throw this memoir in with all those bougie hacks who write all those horrible books about how Morrissey taught them to be proud of being a wusscentric, self-centered jerkoff or how they lost their virginity to (or in spite of) Black Sabbath. Road isn't using Green Day as a pop culture shoe-in to a book deal—it's deeper than that. It brings you into the claustrophobic closet and desperate longing of a pubescent lesbian girl trying to find something of herself in anything and finding not much anywhere. The closest she gets is Green Day, who she clings to like a talisman.

The most impressive thing about Spit and Passion is Cristy's ability to so clearly recall her youth; the strength she's had not to block out the hardship she dealt with. Maybe I'm projecting here, but as someone who remembers little of his pre-teen years—choosing to forget fundamental Christianity, family, money problems, and strife, and all the hell I went through in middle school—one has to respect the sheer force of memory that Road must have to be able to describe this story in such detail.

It will, hopefully, fall into the hands of kids as confused and alienated as she once was. It's not the tired old story young punks are always regaled with about creating a scene and a community out of nothing, nor is it about a punk's first show where she realizes there are other outcasts and misfits just like her. Instead, it's a far braver story, one that takes place earlier,when a closet is a place of refuge for a confused young girl until the day she won't have to be surrounded by fag jokes at school or religious uptightness at home. And the only clue she has of this is in the integrity of one rather mundane ex-punk band who weren't afraid to stand up for queers or what they believed in. Through them she found faith that there was a better, more open-minded community that one day she might find, and one I think she ultimately did. In turn, she leaves some clearer and more direct markers behind for others to find their way, as well as a damn good memoir. –Craven Rock (The Feminist Press, 365 Fifth Ave, Suite 5406, NY, NY 10016, feministpress.org)

Seventeen Television Stories

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:31:51 PST

Fuck, Justin Maurer is a great writer. The brutal characters in his mostly-true (?) stories penetrate my imagination with rich imagery and color. When he describes a dog piss-laden floor, I know that fetid, ammonia smell. A Hollywood sidewalk with its myriad of idiots and thieves oozes alcohol-infused urine that bakes in the sun. Stories of oxycodone addicts and hairdressing would-be rapists are juxtaposed with a fun and beautiful morning waking up in the Italian countryside while on tour. This is a small book, with seven short stories. I wish it was larger, with about one hundred short stories. I will gladly read anything else Justin writes and will look for his previous book as well. Seriously great writing. –Steve Hart (Volume 1, Brooklyn, 36 Plaza St. E Apt. 6A., Brooklyn NY, 11238)

Pussy Riot! A Punk Prayer for Freedom

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:28:50 PST

Pussy Riot is a complex phenomenon to wrap your head around. They gained international prominence on February 21, 2012 when five members staged an impromptu performance in Moscow's Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. Dressed in balaclavas, they launched into a “Punk Prayer,” calling for the Virgin Mary to drive Russian President Vladimir Putin from power, with the chorus: “Virgin Mary, Mother of God, put Putin away. Put Putin away!” After about forty seconds, security drove them out of the cathedral.

If you weren't there to witness the performance, you can view it on YouTube because the performance was video-taped by members of Pussy Riot. This is important because it suggests that the intended audience wasn't so much the church-goers in attendance at that moment, but a larger cyber-audience. The event and, more importantly, the videotape of it, gained notoriety and three members of Pussy Riot—Maria Alyokhina, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, and Yekaterina Samutsevich—were later arrested and charged with felony hooliganism motivated by “religious hatred.” In August, the Russian courts found the three guilty and sentenced them to two years each of hard labor, though Samutsevich eventually had her sentence suspended.

Many observers in the West have sought to define Pussy Riot based on their own perspective. Or, perhaps more correctly, they try to fit Pussy Riot into already established pigeonholes. For some, Pussy Riot is a feminist punk band holding aloft the ongoing banner of riot grrrl. For others, they are a feminist art collective in the tradition of the Guerrilla Girls. For others, they are liberal activists fighting against the increasing repression of the Putin state. All of these interpretations are understandable, and they are also completely correct. But they are also extremely partial. In reality, Pussy Riot is a feminist collective that is far more complex and radical, defying easy categorization. Even the label “feminist” becomes complicated when applied to Pussy Riot.

The complexity (and revolutionary potential) of Pussy Riot and Westerners' partial understanding of the phenomenon is the over-arching and unspoken theme of Pussy Riot! A Punk Prayer for Freedom, recently published by the Feminist Press at the City University of New York. The first part of this slim paperback volume is a collection of writings attributed to Pussy Riot, especially the three defendants. We are presented with the lyrics to “Punk Prayer,” a few press releases from the group, several letters by the defendants written from prison, excerpts from the court transcript, and the fantastic opening and closing statements from the defendants. These shed light on the complexities of the collective, while also capturing their humanity. When I first became aware of Pussy Riot, I cynically assumed that they were rather na�ve because of the simplistic nature of their lyrics (a problem faced by most bands trying to articulate a political philosophy within standard verse/chorus constraints). But this collection of writings illustrates a group with an impressive level of political analysis, historical awareness, and global perspective. They knew what they were doing when they walked into the Cathedral with the cameras rolling.

They knew, but we still struggle to make sense of it. This is clear from the second part of the book, which is a collection of tributes from Western musicians, scholars, and activists, such as Tobi Vail, Bianca Jagger, and Yoko Ono. These tributes are short, with most of them not really worth much of your time. What they all seem to pick up on is the intensity of Pussy Riot's actions. As Vail points out “Pussy Riot's punk is pure protest.” But these are tributes, not analyses. Which is fine. Because it is clear from the first section that Pussy Riot is both a purely Russian phenomenon of a specific time and place, but also much, much more. Part riot grrrl, part radical art collective, part liberal activists, wholly feminist, Pussy Riot is far more than the sum of its parts. This short little book begins to give their revolution a voice. –Kevin Dunn (Feminist Press at CUNY)

People's Apocalypse, The

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:26:16 PST

With a variety of authors and writing styles, this anthology of apocalyptic stories, visions, and nightmares is the stuff that kept me up as a child. My mom always talked about the day Jesus was going to return and rapture all the good Christians. That shit drove me to despair and nihilism for years. So, I approached this book with some trepidation. I've noticed a few of my friends have become “preppers” or people who are prepared for an economic collapse, war, and a shutdown of the electrical grid. It's one thing to be prepared, but stockpiling cans of food, guns, and ammo isn't going to get you very far. Because of this, I enjoyed the how-to articles more than the fictional stories. How to build a teepee or a solar oven is always useful information, stockpiling food and raising goats is a commendable exercise, I suppose. However, I live in Maui. When the boats that import food stop coming (like they did post 9/11), I have no illusions of surviving for very long. I know how to hunt, grow food, fish, build a home. I understand soil science and botany and even took a few survival courses a long time ago, but when an entire island becomes a mass of starving, angry people, I doubt I will be able to protect any food or livestock. To paraphrase Uniform Choice, “There's always someone with bigger piles of ammo, chump.” While it may be fun to hypothesize about how I would survive an apocalypse, I hope that I'll be one of the first to go. Living off the land is fucking difficult. Add hordes of gun-wielding maniacs to that and there's a dystopian future I want nothing to do with. –Steve Hart (Lit Star Press, distributed by Microcosm Publishing)

Lord of Garbage

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:22:23 PST

I don't really know anything about Kim Fowley. I've heard plenty about him (wrote some wacky songs, was mean to The Runaways or something), but all this is like thirteenth-hand info from magazine articles, interviews, and the Rodney Bingenheimer documentary that Fowley inserts himself into. Here we have Fowley's autobiography, the first book in a promised trilogy, published by Norton Records imprint Kicks Books. The writing strikes me as a combination of James Ellroy, Charles Bukowski, and Billy Childish. Ellroy for the self-promoting megalomania, Bukowski for the “woe is me, I had a rough childhood,” and Childish for the really whiny “woe is me”-ness. I love Childish's music, but his writing… not so much. Don't expect straight autobiography or even hard facts. Fowley's irreverent style inserts personality into every sentence, and I get the sense that if he has to exaggerate a story to make it better, so be it. My opinion of the book sways between “oh this is cool rock'n'roll nostalgia from a fringe player” to “who cares about some overblown pop groups that were ‘invented' instead of coming together organically?” Right now, I'm feeling like it was a quick, fun read, but would have benefitted from more structure and chronology. I'll at least read the second installment. –Sal Lucci (Kicks Books, PO Box 646, Cooper Station, NY, NY 10276)

Free Pizza for Life: Or, The Early Days of Plan-It-X Records

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:20:03 PST

I've had this book for awhile and put off reviewing it, for which I apologize. Free Pizza is a long story of friends, roommates, love interests, scammers, jail-time, heartbreak, traveling, playing in bands, and free pizza. In many ways, it parallels many stories of people I once knew who grew up in the late ‘80s, early ‘90s punk scene. This is a story of surviving that horrible time—surviving the hunger and loneliness—the confusion and that weird feeling of being in constant danger, living in a stranger's house, wishing they would just shut up and let you go to sleep (and not kill you). I can't say I “liked” this book. It's hard to say I enjoyed reading someone's struggle to survive. I found myself wishing they would walk away from their friends and start a new life somewhere else. Nevertheless, I totally recommend this book to anyone and everyone—especially the “straight people” who have no idea how we were living for the past few decades. Give them this book and tell ‘em, “It was something like this.” –Steve Hart (Chris Clavin, Plan-it-X Records, PO Box 2312, Bloomington, IN 47402)

Dew Dew, Dew Its

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:18:11 PST

This well-constructed, high gloss photobook showcases the considerable talent of Hiro Tanaka. Much like one of my favorite contemporary photographers, Dan Monick, there is loads of subtext beyond the mechanical action of capturing a visual rectangle. Absolutely, the photos are artful. They're color-saturated. Hiro's timing and framing are immaculate. And yet, there's more. Taken as a whole, Dew Dew is an intimate document of one strain of current independent music: shots taken strides away from a vehicle at a rest station, when the show's torn down, when the band's in transit. Hiro's power is in his dynamics of dualism—like hot/cold water (not a current of warm/tepid water). Sweat-saturated shows/ abject boredom. “Fame”/ very-real anonymity. Human-electric shows/blow-outs in never-enough-rest hotel rooms. Body claustrophobia/skies that look like infinity. Septic, graffiti-kudzu bathrooms/Lush, overgrown weeds/brown desert heat. It's a beautiful document with no words framing who or what is in any picture. As much as music's about notes vibrating air, these photos, inspired by the making of music, ring and reverberate long after the book's closed. Excellent stuff. –Todd Taylor (asianmanrecords.com/hiro)

Better If You Don't Come Back

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:15:52 PST

Do you like skateboarding? Do you know what a frontside nollie 180 is? I had to look it up and I'm still not sure if I get it. Growing up, I loved skating—it was my main transportation until I was into my thirties. But I hardly ever learned any tricks and while my friends would skate pools and half-pipes, I would've rather listened to Final Conflict's demo tape and smoke pot. Anyway, this is a fun novel about skating and smoking dope, getting a job, and being a teenager and not being in control of your life. Furthermore, it is obvious that the author skates a lot and isn't using skateboarding as a marketing ploy. His infectious enthusiasm is on every page. (In fact, he even wrote a few messages to the reviewer in the margins –fuck Stephen Hawking indeed!). The expert use of dialogue makes the book read quickly and the literary device where Thomas Becket is referenced is brilliant. It almost reads as a play or screenplay. If you're into skating, I think you'll enjoy this. –Steve Hart (Fat Thumb Publishing, Fatthumbpublishing@Gmail.com)

Barred for Life

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 17:12:56 PST

I have been looking forward to Barred for Life for a number of years now. The subtitle says it all: “How Black Flag's Iconic Logo Became Punk Rock's Secret Handshake.” As someone who has “The Bars” (as they're called), I was intrigued with what author Stewart Dean Ebersole would come up with. The book is hefty and depending on how punk rock your house is, it would make for a good coffee table book. The general thrust of the book is a plethora of photos of people with their tattoos of The Bars. The nice thing is that the photos aren't just close-ups of the tattoos, rather the focus is on the individual. Sometimes The Bars are hard to find on the person, but they're always there. It's more about their experience with the logo. Each photo comes with some basic information (I'm not in the book, just using myself as an example):

Kurt Morris
Age: 34
Home: Boston, MA
Occupation: Researcher/Librarian
Favorite Singer: Rollins
Favorite Song: “In My Head”
Favorite Album: Who's Got the 10 �?

In addition to their photo, they also have a snippet of text about The Bars or punk rock or what Black Flag has meant to them. Subjects are from the United States, Canada, and parts of Western Europe. While the photographs are the thrust of the book, there are also interviews with a number of members of Black Flag (Chuck Dukowski, Dez Cadena, Ron Reyes, Kira Roessler, and Keith Morris), as well as those associated with the band (tattooist Rick Spellman and photographers Edward Colver and Glen Friedman). Additionally, Ebersole has written essays about his experience with punk rock and Black Flag that are spread throughout the book and around the photos.

The photographs were well-done and intriguing. I wanted to learn more about each of these individuals, but, obviously, that is outside the scope of this text. The decision to focus on the individual over the tattoo was key in the success of Barred for Life. It shows that the book is about more than just the tattoo; it's about how The Bars has affected so many people. The size of each photograph was generous, reminding the reader that this was the heart of the book. However, by the end of it, the amount of photographs felt overwhelming. There were so many, and unless the person had a funny pose or said something unique, they blurred together. One or two-dozen fewer photos would have still slacked my thirst for The Bars.

That being said, it seems a poor choice to intersperse Ebersole's essays around the photographs. Separating the essays, photos, and interviews into discrete sections would have been a smarter choice. While it's interesting to read how the forty-something Ebersole got into punk and his experiences with it, I found it to be superfluous. An introduction wherein he explained his history would have sufficed.

The interviews are great, though. But it's misleading to call them interviews. They're actually essays by the individuals with no questions interspersed. I learned things about the band and the lives of the individuals outside the band, as well as their thoughts on Black Flag all these years later. It's a shame they couldn't have been longer and included even more members. (Morris and Dukowski have talked about their time in Black Flag quite a bit, but what about Bill Stevenson or Anthony Martinez?) It's unfortunate Greg Ginn and Henry Rollins weren't included, but it's not really a surprise, either, considering their past lack of interest in giving interviews about their time in Black Flag.

While the essays were largely unnecessary, Barred for Life is still a pretty cool book. It adds another level of depth to the history of one of punk rock's most influential acts. This book is definitely recommended for fans of Black Flag as well as those interested in punk rock tattoos. –Kurt Morris (PM Press, PO 23912, Oakland, CA 94623)

WILD CHILD

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:18:32 PST

Dirty and fast hardcore punk somewhere betwixt the School Jerks and C�lo. The drumming sounds like hell, the guitar lacks solid distortion, and the vocalist sounds like he's slobbering all over himself. Fuggin' spastic! “Stay Bent” is the best of the bunch, because it's the final song on here and I know it's over. Kidding. Relax... The real reason is it embodies all the best elements of the other four songs and pushes all those elements further into the red. It sounds like everything is on the verge of falling into chaos. The weird grunting in “Viral Load” has its charm, as well as the urgent delivery of “Brown Nose.”

WAY TO GO GENIUS

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:15:54 PST

L.A.'s Way to Go Genius deliver a hearty, raw garage punk LP, with a nice seedy quality to it. All eight of the songs included are terrific, with variants in tempo spanning from fairly slow to fairly quick, as opposed to lingering in the mid range throughout. The fact that the recording is so meticulous helps propel the already well conceived music. The packaging is likewise a labor of love and comes complete with crayons and old fashioned handwriting paper.

WARHEAD

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:14:16 PST

This LP collects Warhead's out-of-print singles (Cry of the Truth, Drive It in Your Head and the Disorder split) and compilation appearances on one handy full length. I'm going to guess that if you are aware of who this band is and are familiar with their records that you are already putting this zine down to track this sucker down on the internet, but in case you are unaffiliated, here is the deal. Warhead started kicking around Japan around 1991 and over the following twenty some-odd years released some of the most disturbing and intense hardcore that ever came from the island. The recordings are cleaner than the bands that predated them, giving the listener the full scope of the chaos instead of burying it under noise and, despite their connections (in later incarnations) to Framtid and Gloom, the band remained their own entity and cast their own crazy curses on themselves. Their live shows have been sparse in the U.S., but those of us who have been lucky enough to witness them (saw them on the famous Forward/Tragedy tour a few years back where they (sorry guys!) blew Tragedy off the stage) have walked away just a little bit more jaded. Highest recommendations!

WAREHOU$E VALUE

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:12:55 PST

This 7” contains a load of pissed-sounding hardcore. The liner notes explain that the band only played five shows. The first side is a demo from 2001 and the other side is unreleased material. I couldn't find any more information. Kudos if this is someone actually going through with that dream of “maybe we'll put out our old demo on a 7” one day.” These songs deserve the vinyl treatment in my opinion. Lo-fi, speedy, and angry. More old school without too much heavy nonsense. I lean towards DRI-paced HC. This is something I would listen to. Good record.

VIOLENT BULLSHIT

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:11:03 PST

Speedy hardcore with a crunchy edge. Everything about their sound is thick, from the vocals that sound like the singer is about to choke to death, to the impenetrable wall of guitar and hard-hitting percussion. For some reason, I'm reminded of Celebrity Murders, but this band consists of folks from Black Army Jacket, Half Mast, Orchid, Les Savy Fav, and others. Their style is definitely in the present, mixed with the better elements of NYHC, and a forceful delivery that keeps the tension high. “Theatre Sports” is a weird blend of Bad Brains “Attitude” with their own song that gets wonky and weird. “Hip Replacement” is the definite standout of the bunch. The song is fast, direct, and verging on going over the edge. It blazes by in a fast minute, though it feels shorter. These guys definitely know how to construct hard-hitting songs and keep it interesting. Plus, going from the lyrics, they don't seem to be dour or convinced they have the answers. Pretty good.

VARIOUS ARTISTS

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:09:47 PST

Another volume of the regional, Portland-only comp that benefits pc-pdx.com, a well-loved and oft-used online resource guide to shows in the area. Like most regional comps, it's crafted out of love and is a mixed bag. Genres abound here, but it becomes quickly clear there are tons of great, active bands in this town. My personal standouts are Shitty Weekend, Drunk Dad, Pageripper, Raw Nerves, and Freedom Club. Twenty-eight bands.

UPSIDE DOWN

todd@razorcake.org (Todd Taylor) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:08:18 PST

Five-piece punk band that has been slugging away since 1992. That is really the only thing I can tell you about this band since Google “translate” does not seem to want to cooperate with me today. So I'm at a loss to find out even the most basic information about this band. This applies to their website, Facebook page, whatever. I can tell you the music sounds like fast melodic punk from the mid-'90s. Think Strung Out or Good Riddance but with Fat Mike on vocals. Oh yeah, and if Fat Mike had grown up in Warsaw instead of California. Now you've got it.