So we end up more like fat ring-card girls at the bout: in this corner, weighing a slight amount, we've got Jerry Only and his version of the Misfits; and in this corner, weighing even less, we've got Michale Graves. It's basically 8 blocks of canvas between 'em, too - Jerry down at the Hawthorne Theater and Michale at Sabala's. The former's an all-ages racket, the latter a 21+ affair.
Was it chaotic? Hilarious? Awe-inspiring? I kinda doubt it. We had fun, tho', opening again for Graves at the same place we did over a year ago when he brought Gotham Road to town. Apparently there were maybe a dozen at Jerry Only's show that were over 21. This allowed somebody like Robo to hang out in the crowd unnoticed until some of our old asses hit him up for info. There were a fair amount of kids there, tho', but at $20 a ticket I'm not sure how hardcore this is any longer...
On the other hand, at Sabala's, the $8 show on a Sunday night had some takers, at least more than last year. The Untouchables (no, not that band but another one of kids from Jersey who apparently can't Google band names) opened, then us, then locals The Shift, then Graves. I still apologize for not getting the band names right but, hey, at least I mentioned them this time! Trying to do better at that...
Our set went pretty well (MUCH better than when we opened the Rainin' Blood-fest earlier this year) and, at about :30 min., we just hit the highlights. Foil got to play through a better setup than he ever has thanks to Graves' guitarist Jason needing to borrow his cab to complete his setup. The sound was incredible - even tho' we hardly pride ourselves on gear-geekery it was a nice change. MySpace folks came out in force and that's always a good crowd, too. But the highlight of the audience was prolly Dr. CHOAD's momma getting to witness her offspring ripping through a fat-core set. Decent!
Graves finally got on stage and earlier than we'd anticipated which, on a school night, is always good. He did a good mix of his own stuff (off the "Web of Dharma" album which is actually pretty alright) and the stuff he wrote when with the 'fits, both that which was recorded and that which didn't make it. He's got an amazing set of lungs and a good amount of energy. His line, "I'd rather play in front of two people than play with Jerry Only again," was saddening but enabling and good for his crowd. He played a good set but ran out of steam (his own admission) by the end.
I'll say this for the guy: he's gotta good sense of humor, a good work ethic, likes to have fun through his music, and seems pretty much a straight-up guy. I don't know if I could say the same for Jerry and his version of the Misfits but I'd like to find out someday. Robo's thought was that we should've been opening for them but who knows? It's a strange disparity, a grudging tolerance we enjoy being who we are and what we do and, more importantly, the way we do it. Maybe some day...
Eat out,
-Glenn
Friday, October 14, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
:20 seconds over Sabala's
So the last show was weird. Weird in that sense that we were even on the bill for a weekend-long psychobilly show, even weirder that we started the whole thing off, and weirdest of all that we were done playing then went outside into the sunlight (heavily rain-filtered but "daylight" at least). What gives?
'twas the "Rainin' Blood" festivale, a fairly decent mishmash of music, cars, BBQ, and personalities. At least we got free beer, free event shirts, and some good response. That made up for the indifferent 2 dozen folks lingering in the joint at 7pm and lasting until 7:20pm. That was our set. And the assistant stage manager telling us to wrap up in the middle of the obvious last song ("You guys need to wrap it up?" and my reply, "Hey, whaddya know - we are!") and coming on stage and killing our smoke machine. The regular sound guy appreciated us helping out by doing things right like getting on and off in no time and helping get our gear outta the way. This other douchebag is another story altogether, tho'. I like playing Sabala's alot and we chatted up a good many folks in the sidebar (3D drawings covering the walls and a free jukebox with the Cockney Rejects on it). But that situation was a bit tough for any band to play in, much less us.
I called it a good dress rehearsal since everything we're doing now is pointing to the show in SFO.
And I think we're all looking forward to this Saturday's show at Porky's Pub. We always seem to have a good time there and we're busting out the full damn set this time 'round. Maybe it's the lure of cheap booze in Jell-O form, I dunno, but it should be a hoot. Come see it and you can be a "hoot'er".
'twas the "Rainin' Blood" festivale, a fairly decent mishmash of music, cars, BBQ, and personalities. At least we got free beer, free event shirts, and some good response. That made up for the indifferent 2 dozen folks lingering in the joint at 7pm and lasting until 7:20pm. That was our set. And the assistant stage manager telling us to wrap up in the middle of the obvious last song ("You guys need to wrap it up?" and my reply, "Hey, whaddya know - we are!") and coming on stage and killing our smoke machine. The regular sound guy appreciated us helping out by doing things right like getting on and off in no time and helping get our gear outta the way. This other douchebag is another story altogether, tho'. I like playing Sabala's alot and we chatted up a good many folks in the sidebar (3D drawings covering the walls and a free jukebox with the Cockney Rejects on it). But that situation was a bit tough for any band to play in, much less us.
I called it a good dress rehearsal since everything we're doing now is pointing to the show in SFO.
And I think we're all looking forward to this Saturday's show at Porky's Pub. We always seem to have a good time there and we're busting out the full damn set this time 'round. Maybe it's the lure of cheap booze in Jell-O form, I dunno, but it should be a hoot. Come see it and you can be a "hoot'er".
Friday, May 20, 2005
Worthy of a post on its own
Finally! A sammich worthy of the Misfats! See it here and disregard the flimsy retard posing with it.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
You gene, I gene, we all scream at Eugene
Wow - what a show last Friday.
Baloney and I lived in the town of Eugene, OR, for way too long and always get the same feeling of creeping, insidious dissatisfaction whenever returning. But not this time (for me, that is - Baloney still went insane after getting a parking ticket :20 min. after pulling into town).
Here is a copy of the writeup we received in the local alt.rag, the Eugene Weakly-er, Weekly. With that kinda prep on the place we should've known there'd be such a kickazz turnout but we were a little skeptical. We arrived early (naturally - the ONE thing we're not lazy about) and, after unsuccessful attempts to get into John Henry's yielded negative results, we mosied on over to Lucky's. Now, before the citywide indoor smoking ban, this was a great pool/cigar bar that sold $.95 glasses of Henry's and was literally around the block where I "worked." Now, tho', it just seemed kinda sad. Competing for our biz that night, local faves Floater were also playing downtown (but for $15). Any band that describes themselves as "art-metal" needs to have some metal artistically wrapped around their head in ultraviolent fashion. One cat, upon seeing our attempts to roust someone at John Henry's, said, "You should skip that and go see Floater!" Dr. C.H.O.A.D. retorted with one of his better ones, "'Floater'? You mean like a turd?" In true oregonian fashion this cat kept walking and muttering out loud but it felt good to already take that bite.
Speaking of bite, two things sorta related. The show featured 4 bands and started "promptly" at 10:30pm. But the bar staff was great and kept shoving handfuls of drink tickets at us so who are we to say anything bad about that setup? The first band, tho', was so abysmally awful as to drive me outside to hang with old peeps. This led to me finding the hot dog cart on the corner, a vendor selling yer basic Cossco dawgs but offering such fine ammenities as real bacon bits, grilled red peppers, and chipotle mustard. Slathering on a boatload of onions, I enjoyed every bit of the $2.50 it cost.
Thankfully, that band closed up (this their first and most likely last show - aren't we the favored ones?) and the night moved along. The Anxieties tore through a :25 min. set of Screeching Weasel songs and, to my pleasure, did belt out the hit, "I Hate Led Zepplin." Short and sweet, it was a nice break from the previous band and, for me - who seems to be the only SW fan around much - a decent enough time. A seldom seen Turbonegro cover band, Burt Reynolds Overdrive, was up next. They put on a great energetic set and I don't even like Turbonegro. Go figure. Or maybe it was the contact high I was getting waiting in the green room before their set (this is eugene, after all). In any case, they, too, were a welcome addition to the night - plus it was good to see the sadly now-defunct Courtesy Clerks doing something more.
At about :10 after 1am we hit the stage. Normally, when this happens, so many folks have cleared out of the given place that we're just playing to the other bands that are stranded there. Not so the case this evening, tho'. While not as packed as earlier in the night the true faithful remained to raise some fists, guffaws, drinks, and laughter. Thankfully, we'd had the foresight to cut Baloney's mic 'cuz he was buzzing offa 6 long islands and a broken bass strap - still staying in tune and focused, tho', which was damn impressive. Everything he also threw out to the audience got chucked back at us nicely, too, and even a few things that we didn't supply found their way on stage. The pizza to my crotch was a nice touch, too, 'cuz this place didn't serve any pizza. I still think it was thrown by one of my chickenshite enemies from The Old Days who's all fat now and was sorta half-turned to the stage but still stayed through our entire set but who knows? We were all on the edge of puking or passing out our entire set but we were also actually in tune and having a ball. Everyone there seemed to be very much into it and we'd like to thank 'em all, especially those that started the pit and kept it going. Fantabulous!
We had our great haul at the end of the evening, not the least of which was the invitiation to return whenever we wanted. That sure sounds good to us but we've got some miles to put on our soles first. We'll be back, Eugene, with a new setlist and more raucousness, just you wait!
Baloney and I lived in the town of Eugene, OR, for way too long and always get the same feeling of creeping, insidious dissatisfaction whenever returning. But not this time (for me, that is - Baloney still went insane after getting a parking ticket :20 min. after pulling into town).
Here is a copy of the writeup we received in the local alt.rag, the Eugene Weakly-er, Weekly. With that kinda prep on the place we should've known there'd be such a kickazz turnout but we were a little skeptical. We arrived early (naturally - the ONE thing we're not lazy about) and, after unsuccessful attempts to get into John Henry's yielded negative results, we mosied on over to Lucky's. Now, before the citywide indoor smoking ban, this was a great pool/cigar bar that sold $.95 glasses of Henry's and was literally around the block where I "worked." Now, tho', it just seemed kinda sad. Competing for our biz that night, local faves Floater were also playing downtown (but for $15). Any band that describes themselves as "art-metal" needs to have some metal artistically wrapped around their head in ultraviolent fashion. One cat, upon seeing our attempts to roust someone at John Henry's, said, "You should skip that and go see Floater!" Dr. C.H.O.A.D. retorted with one of his better ones, "'Floater'? You mean like a turd?" In true oregonian fashion this cat kept walking and muttering out loud but it felt good to already take that bite.
Speaking of bite, two things sorta related. The show featured 4 bands and started "promptly" at 10:30pm. But the bar staff was great and kept shoving handfuls of drink tickets at us so who are we to say anything bad about that setup? The first band, tho', was so abysmally awful as to drive me outside to hang with old peeps. This led to me finding the hot dog cart on the corner, a vendor selling yer basic Cossco dawgs but offering such fine ammenities as real bacon bits, grilled red peppers, and chipotle mustard. Slathering on a boatload of onions, I enjoyed every bit of the $2.50 it cost.
Thankfully, that band closed up (this their first and most likely last show - aren't we the favored ones?) and the night moved along. The Anxieties tore through a :25 min. set of Screeching Weasel songs and, to my pleasure, did belt out the hit, "I Hate Led Zepplin." Short and sweet, it was a nice break from the previous band and, for me - who seems to be the only SW fan around much - a decent enough time. A seldom seen Turbonegro cover band, Burt Reynolds Overdrive, was up next. They put on a great energetic set and I don't even like Turbonegro. Go figure. Or maybe it was the contact high I was getting waiting in the green room before their set (this is eugene, after all). In any case, they, too, were a welcome addition to the night - plus it was good to see the sadly now-defunct Courtesy Clerks doing something more.
At about :10 after 1am we hit the stage. Normally, when this happens, so many folks have cleared out of the given place that we're just playing to the other bands that are stranded there. Not so the case this evening, tho'. While not as packed as earlier in the night the true faithful remained to raise some fists, guffaws, drinks, and laughter. Thankfully, we'd had the foresight to cut Baloney's mic 'cuz he was buzzing offa 6 long islands and a broken bass strap - still staying in tune and focused, tho', which was damn impressive. Everything he also threw out to the audience got chucked back at us nicely, too, and even a few things that we didn't supply found their way on stage. The pizza to my crotch was a nice touch, too, 'cuz this place didn't serve any pizza. I still think it was thrown by one of my chickenshite enemies from The Old Days who's all fat now and was sorta half-turned to the stage but still stayed through our entire set but who knows? We were all on the edge of puking or passing out our entire set but we were also actually in tune and having a ball. Everyone there seemed to be very much into it and we'd like to thank 'em all, especially those that started the pit and kept it going. Fantabulous!
We had our great haul at the end of the evening, not the least of which was the invitiation to return whenever we wanted. That sure sounds good to us but we've got some miles to put on our soles first. We'll be back, Eugene, with a new setlist and more raucousness, just you wait!
Monday, May 02, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
The good news is...
from The Ramones official site.
MARKY RAMONE CALLS IT A DAY - AND IT WAS FUN!:
As you know, I have been playing with Jerry Only from The Misfits and Dez from Black Flag, but I've decided that four years is enough. The last shows I will be doing with them will be in Mexico. I will be doing other things on my own, mainly Ramones related business; I will finish my book, and I will be a d.j. on Sirius Radio. I want to thank again, everyone who has made "Raw" and "End of the Century" a great success. I will be seeing you soon, with my own band. I give Jerry and Dez the best of luck.
MARKY RAMONE 03/25/05
It's shy of an apology for, "Project 1950," but it's at least welcome news.
MARKY RAMONE CALLS IT A DAY - AND IT WAS FUN!:
As you know, I have been playing with Jerry Only from The Misfits and Dez from Black Flag, but I've decided that four years is enough. The last shows I will be doing with them will be in Mexico. I will be doing other things on my own, mainly Ramones related business; I will finish my book, and I will be a d.j. on Sirius Radio. I want to thank again, everyone who has made "Raw" and "End of the Century" a great success. I will be seeing you soon, with my own band. I give Jerry and Dez the best of luck.
MARKY RAMONE 03/25/05
It's shy of an apology for, "Project 1950," but it's at least welcome news.
Bands we love
Check out the link to Darkbuster in the nav. section of this music rag's site.
SFO show is coming and it's gonna be mammoth, my friends...For example, if I were to say words like Jewdriver or Knights of the New Crusade, what would you do?
You'd tear your fucking head off in ecstatic glee, that's what you'd do. Then you'd figure out how to reassamble yerself by early June.
SFO show is coming and it's gonna be mammoth, my friends...For example, if I were to say words like Jewdriver or Knights of the New Crusade, what would you do?
You'd tear your fucking head off in ecstatic glee, that's what you'd do. Then you'd figure out how to reassamble yerself by early June.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Ash St. show - 03.19.2005
To be honest, I'd kinda forgotten about this show until the Wednesday previous. But our pre-show practice went well, running through about 8 songs, trying a few tempo changes and all. We decided to head down a little early and avoid the parking snafus related to The Great Douchebaggery occuring at Kell's that night. That's a long time to sit down at the Ash Street, tho'...
Filthy White Trash were already loaded in, as were The Cooks, when we got there around 7:15pm. FWT even had a banner outside promoting the show and, between them and Monkey Fur, they'd pumped alotta hype around this show which was super cool on their part. I didn't chat with anyone from The Cooks but everyone else I talked with seemed pretty laid back and, alternately, stoked for the show. That alone got me much more in the mood for it all.
The show came with an emcee, Tres (the "s" is silent, he told me; I responded with, "As in "fox"? but he didn't get it), who talked alot but was a pretty good natured guy. He supplied us with an entire bucket of his Voodoo Doughnuts for our set so I'm not complaining AT ALL. Heck, even Elvis opened up with a few crowd favorites to set the tone for the evening (really!).
The Cooks were alright - think less "home cookin'" perhaps and more "cooking school" and you get the idea. They didn't piss me off anyway.
Monkey Fur were up next. Before their set the emcee introduced Kitty and Master Cylinder, SG-lookin' strippers who acted more like ringcard girls. They seemed to think very highly of themselves but did successfully parade the bands' names on placards before their sets (except for The Cooks - sorry, guys; I guess that's the price of being more on time than a stripper). They were also taking care of raffle registrants, apparently. Not a bad idea, altogether, but their collective brain power wouldn't light a glowstick and since when is an "A" cup size acceptable for a stripper? What's wrong with this freakin' country?!?
Monkey Fur more than made up for it with pure decadent noisepunk fun. Despite some folks' objections to their wearing masks ("too 'Slipknot' for me" which is understandable) they rawked right in the gutter from the get-go and had a ball doing it. Their guitarist was a quite-capable shreddist, too, and their stage show included another pseudo-stripper/super-annoying chick gyrated with them for most of the set. Unfortunately, the lead singer didn't heed my oft-yelled advice to punch her in the head but whatever. She and another alterna-chick got all friendly on stage, this same broad who later told us, as we entered to get on stage, that we "looked HOT!" Brash, noisy, and super-messy, Monkey Fur lived up to my expectations and I can't wait to play with 'em again.
FWT took to the stage next. They had the most crowd activity by far, getting a bit of a pit going a few times during their rawk-filled set. And, yes - they were hipsters disguised as that sect's romanticized vision of white trash (let me show you where I grew up and I'll give you true "whiskey tango" - code for "W/T" or "White Trash" for you un-military types) - but there's no denying their rawkability. Their guitar and bass were out-freakin'-standing and the lead singer had enough David Lee Roth in him to make it damn entertaining. Noisepunk, to be certain, but very well done. The strippers flashing and then making out didn't necessarily hurt, either, but, again, no response to, "PUNCH 'EM IN THE HEAD!!!"
So we were there batting cleanup, I guess, tho' I'm thankful we didn't have to clean up. Stuffed animals, granny grippers, hardcore porn, and donuts littered the stage and floor by that point. And, apparently, much to Miss Kelly's chagrin, she doubled the number of penises that she's seen at Misfats shows as Elvis exposed his ol'self as our "opener." I did appreciate that soundgirl Heather played the theme from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" as our intro, too. We sped up a few songs primarily 'cuz they sound better ("Some Kinda Meat," especially but also, "Elastic Age") that way; but I also appreciate it so I'm tired sooner in the set but we've done more by that point now. Until I get into better cardio shape and get my legs back under me, so to speak, that works nicely. Band friend Tommy made his appearance and made it worthwhile, shrieking, "I LOVE YOU, GLEN HAMZINGER!" between each song. I told him that never gets old. Jokes about us having more tits on stage than the so-called strippers of earlier (they were looooong gone by the time we started) and their low self-esteem aside, the crowd that was left seemed to respond pretty well to us, I'd say.
I only wish we had $15 for the 3 shirts that were sold versus the $10 we ended up with but oh well. Oh and having my cell phone (and the bottle opener from my key chain) back would be swell, too, I suppose. But I'd still call it a success of a show anyway.
Filthy White Trash were already loaded in, as were The Cooks, when we got there around 7:15pm. FWT even had a banner outside promoting the show and, between them and Monkey Fur, they'd pumped alotta hype around this show which was super cool on their part. I didn't chat with anyone from The Cooks but everyone else I talked with seemed pretty laid back and, alternately, stoked for the show. That alone got me much more in the mood for it all.
The show came with an emcee, Tres (the "s" is silent, he told me; I responded with, "As in "fox"? but he didn't get it), who talked alot but was a pretty good natured guy. He supplied us with an entire bucket of his Voodoo Doughnuts for our set so I'm not complaining AT ALL. Heck, even Elvis opened up with a few crowd favorites to set the tone for the evening (really!).
The Cooks were alright - think less "home cookin'" perhaps and more "cooking school" and you get the idea. They didn't piss me off anyway.
Monkey Fur were up next. Before their set the emcee introduced Kitty and Master Cylinder, SG-lookin' strippers who acted more like ringcard girls. They seemed to think very highly of themselves but did successfully parade the bands' names on placards before their sets (except for The Cooks - sorry, guys; I guess that's the price of being more on time than a stripper). They were also taking care of raffle registrants, apparently. Not a bad idea, altogether, but their collective brain power wouldn't light a glowstick and since when is an "A" cup size acceptable for a stripper? What's wrong with this freakin' country?!?
Monkey Fur more than made up for it with pure decadent noisepunk fun. Despite some folks' objections to their wearing masks ("too 'Slipknot' for me" which is understandable) they rawked right in the gutter from the get-go and had a ball doing it. Their guitarist was a quite-capable shreddist, too, and their stage show included another pseudo-stripper/super-annoying chick gyrated with them for most of the set. Unfortunately, the lead singer didn't heed my oft-yelled advice to punch her in the head but whatever. She and another alterna-chick got all friendly on stage, this same broad who later told us, as we entered to get on stage, that we "looked HOT!" Brash, noisy, and super-messy, Monkey Fur lived up to my expectations and I can't wait to play with 'em again.
FWT took to the stage next. They had the most crowd activity by far, getting a bit of a pit going a few times during their rawk-filled set. And, yes - they were hipsters disguised as that sect's romanticized vision of white trash (let me show you where I grew up and I'll give you true "whiskey tango" - code for "W/T" or "White Trash" for you un-military types) - but there's no denying their rawkability. Their guitar and bass were out-freakin'-standing and the lead singer had enough David Lee Roth in him to make it damn entertaining. Noisepunk, to be certain, but very well done. The strippers flashing and then making out didn't necessarily hurt, either, but, again, no response to, "PUNCH 'EM IN THE HEAD!!!"
So we were there batting cleanup, I guess, tho' I'm thankful we didn't have to clean up. Stuffed animals, granny grippers, hardcore porn, and donuts littered the stage and floor by that point. And, apparently, much to Miss Kelly's chagrin, she doubled the number of penises that she's seen at Misfats shows as Elvis exposed his ol'self as our "opener." I did appreciate that soundgirl Heather played the theme from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" as our intro, too. We sped up a few songs primarily 'cuz they sound better ("Some Kinda Meat," especially but also, "Elastic Age") that way; but I also appreciate it so I'm tired sooner in the set but we've done more by that point now. Until I get into better cardio shape and get my legs back under me, so to speak, that works nicely. Band friend Tommy made his appearance and made it worthwhile, shrieking, "I LOVE YOU, GLEN HAMZINGER!" between each song. I told him that never gets old. Jokes about us having more tits on stage than the so-called strippers of earlier (they were looooong gone by the time we started) and their low self-esteem aside, the crowd that was left seemed to respond pretty well to us, I'd say.
I only wish we had $15 for the 3 shirts that were sold versus the $10 we ended up with but oh well. Oh and having my cell phone (and the bottle opener from my key chain) back would be swell, too, I suppose. But I'd still call it a success of a show anyway.
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