Eddie And The Subtitles
Fuck You Eddie
Label: Frontier Records
Eddie Joseph – Guitar, vocals
Mike Patton – Bass, vocals
Matt Simon – Drums
Eddie Joseph – Vocals
Max Ferguson – Guitar
Charles “Chaz” Ramirez – Bass
Brent North – Drums
1. American Society (Original) – 5:00
2. No Virgins In Hollywood – 1:35
3. Zombie Drug Killers – 1:23
4. Child Sin – 0:46
5. Louie Louie – 2:24
6. Why Do You Lie – 1:38
7. Circus – 5:01
8. WW III – 15:49
9. American Society (LP version) – 1:21
10. Circus (LP version) – 1:48
11. Waiting for the Bombs – 1:27
From the minute you put this on, it feels like I’ve transported back to 1980’s Los Angeles, Decline of Western Civilization era. To the trained ear, L.A. music went through definite ebbs and flows. L.A. punk started almost poppy with The Dickies sound. And maybe The Crowd, then went more amateurish, grungy sounding like the bands on Decline, like Alice Bag Band, Catholic Discipline. They all had this intentionally clanging wall of noise. Eddie and the Subtitles fit into this time period, before the so-called hardcore movement took over.
I had lunch with Lisa Fancher about a week ago, and she was cool enough to suggest a couple of bands to me, and give me a copy of this Eddie album. Now, I both dug this album, and there were one or two tracks that I will never listen to again, WW III is the main one here, clocking in at almost 16 minutes – well, it was almost Chinese water torture, 7 minutes in I gave up any and all governmental secrets I had.
Now, track 3, Child Sin sounds, musically, super, super close to I Hate Children by The Adolescents. Good track. I like the LP version of American Society, better than the original. All in all, good album.
Now, my son’s review: “Can you turn that off, it’s too loud?” Damn kids!!
If you get the chance to get a copy, go do it.
Rating: ** * two out of three stars
On to the story . . .
Sometimes in life there is a moment that occurs that changes the direction of your life. Back in 1982, I had my first and only heart to heart with my uncle Rick.
You see, I spent many years thinking that I was the only guy in the world that liked punk only for the music. Meaning, there was nothing wrong with me, I didn’t have any issues, personally, that drew me to punk. No anger, no frustrations, only a love for the music. Once I hit my forties I started doing a bit of a self-evaluation, and it dawned on me. From the age of six I was raised in a single parent home, money was sometimes non-existent, and most of those years since I was six I don’t think my mother much liked me.
Now, did I have it worse than half the punks out there? No. Did I have the makings of a serial killer? No. But I had enough of an unbalanced life that I sat up and took notice when punk hit the scene. Black Flag, and Bad Religion said things I couldn’t. When I couldn’t spike my hair, or was forbidden from getting earrings, or taken to a shrink because I liked punk, Henry Rollins screamed for me. When I’d skateboard home from school, and a truckload of losers would hurl beer cans, Greg Graffin would scream “Fuck” as loud as he could for me.
I told you all that to tell you this: In 1982, I was sitting in my uncle’s garage and I was afraid to talk to any adult really, but I felt he’d understand me. He was four years older than me, and he was deep, deep into punk. I started telling him how disconnected I felt towards everything. I didn’t feel anything.
I explained how my mom took my brother and I to see ET, I didn’t want to see it, but she wanted a family outing. I sat through it and the whole theatre was bawling their eyes out. And I sat stone-faced, thinking something is wrong with me. Rick understood, and related. He said the more this family stuff was pushed on him, the more disconnected he got. I didn’t feel so alone.
I didn’t feel anything for almost five years. And I’m not sure my uncle ever did.
Now that I’m older I realize that punk helped me through a troubled adolescence, there was nothing wrong with me. I was just a kid, without a dad around much, trying to figure out how to be a man, and who the hell I wanted to be.
Punk gave me a safety net. It didn’t care, that I was from a broken home, my skin was broken out, and I was dirt poor. It was the voice I didn’t have, and my uncle verified, I wasn’t the only one feeling like this. Rest in peace Rick.
LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: Order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330.