Circle Jerks
Group Sex
1980
Frontier Records

Keith Morris – vocals
Greg Hetson – guitar
Roger Rogerson – bass
Lucky Lehrer – drums

01 Deny Everything
02 I Just Want Some Skank
03 Beverly Hills
04 Operation
05 Back Against the Wall
06 Wasted
07 Behind the Door
08 World up My Ass
09 Paid Vacation
10 Don’t Care
11 Live Fast Die Young
12 What’s Your Problem?
13 Group Sex
14 Red Tape

I bought this album shortly after The Decline came out. I had memorized the songs off of the soundtrack, and wanted to hear the rest. Classic songs. After this album, the band would never be as good. The Wild in the Streets song was good, but I never enjoyed them after this fifteen minutes of pure adrenaline.

If you don’t own it, get it.

Rating: ** * two out of three stars

On with the story . . .

Sometimes in life you meet someone that has an incredible impact on you without them even knowing it.

Last week I wrote about the time I spent up at lovely Camp Wayside. Midway through my stay a bus load of new campers came in. One of these people was a short fifty something year old man with a receding hairline. He looked like an accountant or a teacher. He walked into the barrack and looked incredibly lost and scared. I walked up to him and introduced myself and told him some of the rules of survival. He told me his name was Tim and he did some teaching and counseling in the Bay Area. At the time it seemed vague, but I didn’t pursue it.

A couple of days later we were walking to lunch and Tim confesses to me that he is a Priest from San Francisco. I asked him why he didn’t tell me when he came in. He said he felt he would be ridiculed or targeted and the biggest reason was that he was here. He felt that a man of God isn’t a man of God if is in jail.

I ask why he is here. He explains that prior to becoming a Priest he had a drinking problem, but he was able to extinguish it. And go on to become a man of God. Great, I say. But a month before he landed in Wayside he received a phone call at his church that his parents had been in a car accident and they both died in a collision with a truck. Father Tim immediately drives down to identify the bodies and make funeral arrangements, and to settle the estate. Turns out his sister was a district attorney, and couldn’t get away to help.

I listened to Father Tim as he told me his life story; he was filled with sadness, and guilt. The loss of family, and his feeling of letting down God. Then he told me that after everything was settled, he packed his car and headed back towards the Bay Area. Halfway home he passed a liquor store, he stopped and went in and bought a bottle almost every kind of booze they had. Three quarters of the way to Frisco he was pulled over for weaving up and down the highway. He was tanked. He didn’t mention he was a Priest or that his sister was a district attorney. He waive his right to an attorney, and asked for the harshest punishment the law would grant.

He was sentenced to six months to a year. His sister had no idea what happened to him. He vanished. He called his church to tell them he had to face punishment.

I, kind of, took him under my wing. No one else knew he was a Priest. I told him I was going to let people know. At the time there were a few younger inmates that were bullying him; they always look for the weakest in order to look tough.

I explained to Father Tim, that as he is being punished here, he could do a lot of good, start a bible study group or counsel some of us. Guys at Wayside were receiving divorce papers or break-up letters daily; I knew he could help people through this. After a day of day he agreed. I told him maybe he was here for a reason.

I sat in on a couple of his study groups; his understanding of the bible was astounding. The one lesson that sticks out in my mind was: the meek shall inherit the earth. Father Tim explained how the word meek has changed its meaning over the years. Meek used to mean faithful, now it means shy or bashful. So the term really means the faithful shall inherit the earth.

Father Tim got so comfortable in his ability to counsel that he forgot he was in jail. A race riot between the blacks and the whites broke out in our barrack, Father Tim started walking back to where the riot started, and I grabbed him and said what are you doing? He said I’m going to talk to them, this is silly. Then I saw three or four black guys coming towards us, I pushed him against a wall, and I took a few shots to the head, then I just shielded Father Tim until the chaos stopped.

After a month or so Father Tim received a visitor. He was surprised; no one knew he was here. It turned out one of the clerks in his sister’s office had run across his name when they were filing. So, she rushed up there. She said she was bailing his out. He said no, he did wrong and had to pay. They went back and forth like this for another month or so. Finally, she took the case to a judge, the judge recommended rehab, and then have him returned to his church. When he was packing up to leave he apologized for leaving me there. It’s that last time I ever saw Father Tim.

In a place where ever street corner junkie is a minister, it was comforting to talk to the real deal, if only for a couple of months. Every other person in the system lies about there crime, but Father Tim wanted to stay. I was proud to know such an honorable man.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

Dear Landlord/Off With Their Heads
October 2007
No Idea Records

Off With Their Heads
Ryan Young: guitar, vocals
Justin Francis: drums
Nate Gangelhoff: bass
Josh Lynch: shred guitar 1
Dan Jensen: shred guitar 2

1. Die Slow
2. Splendid Isolation

Dear Landlord
Adam – bass, vocals
Brad – drums, words
Brett – guitar, vocals
Zack – guitar, vocals

3. High Fives
4. Crashing

I got this, like I get most Dear Landlord releases, with the hope of new tracks. With this split, track five, Crashing is one of the few Dear Landlord tracks floating around out there that isn’t on their full-length album Dream Homes. Not a bad comp.

Pick it up if you have the chance.

Rating: ** * two out of three stars

On with the story . . .

A few years ago, on Free Comic Book Day (http://www.freecomicbookday.com), I ran into a bit of a problem. No, I got some comics for me and my son, that wasn’t the problem.

My son and I had gone to three or four different shops, and picked up as many comics as we could carry. Finally, after driving around for hours we were done.

I’m driving down this side street when this SUV comes flying out of a driveway, misses me by, about six inches. I lay on the horn, and swerve.

Well, turns out that honking my horn at this prick pissed him off. So, he swerves in right behind me and inches behind me, just short of rear-ending me.

I figure, at first, that it’s a coincidence that he’s behind me. So, I switch lanes, and turn into the left turn lane. The kid in the SUV makes a quick sharp left, and he’s behind me in the left turn lane. Normally, this macho type of driving doesn’t faze me, but my son is in the backseat in his car seat, and I don’t like any bullshit when I’m with my kids.

I wave my hand up in the air, kind of a “What the hell?,” gesture. The kid starts yelling, “Fuck you, who are you to fucking honk at me?” I give my son a handful of comic books, and tell him, “I’ll be right back, and I have to check something.” He smiles, and says “OK.”

I get out, walk a few steps, and I’m at the SUV. I look at this 18 or 19-year-old punk, and think to myself, somebody somewhere made this kid think he was tough. Maybe he roughed up a girlfriend, little brother or sister, and now he’s Chuck Norris. So, I give him my introduction, “The fuck you following me for, motherfucker?”

“You didn’t have to honk at me.”

“If you knew how to fucking drive you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know what? Get out of the car.”

At this point, my heart was racing. I wanted to get back to my kid quickly, unscathed, but knock this guy out quickly.

He opens his door to get out, his hand reaches up to hold onto the roof of his SUV. I grab the handle of the door and slam the door on his arm eight to ten times, as fast as I can.

He starts screaming, “Ow, god dammit. What the fuck.”

When I stopped, he had a dent on his bicep that was turning blue. I warned him again, “Stay in your car, and drive the fuck on.”

“Fuck you dude.”

Again, he opens the door, this time he keeps his hands inside and steps out with his left leg. Since I’m all-nerves and want to get back to my kid, I kick the door closed on his leg.

He starts cursing at me, I grab the door handle and slam the door on his leg five or six more times, until it’s purple and starting to bleed a bit.

Now, I yell at him again, “You want to fight me, fucker? Get out of the car!”

Now his eyes are watering, and he’s getting scared, he says back to me, “You won’t let me out of the car.”

So, I tell him again, “This is your last chance, drive the fuck on. Follow me, and I won’t let you go. Understand?”

“Uh huh, OK, sorry.”

Now, I’m starting to wonder how long my son has been in the car alone, if he’s noticed me gone. The SUV pulls into the right lane and drives off. I pull into a parking lot. Watch the SUV until it’s out of eye-shot. Then I go home.

We get into the house and my son tells my wife all about the Free Comic Book Day, not a mention of me getting out of the car. He didn’t notice. Thank God.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

Various Artists
Punk History Vol. 3
2007
Liberula Barriguda Recordings

01 X – Los Angeles
02 The Avengers – We Are the One
03 Black Flag – Wasted
04 Discharge – Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing
05 T.S.O.L. – Dance with Me
06 Agent Orange – Bloodstains
07 Vice Squad – Young Blood
08 Adolescents – Amoeba
09 Redd Kross – Annette’s Got the Hits
10 Toy Dolls – Stay Mellow
11 Chron Gen – Jet Boy, Jet Girl
12 Infa Riot – Catch 22
13 Bad Brains – Big Takeover
14 Fear – I Love Livin In the City
15 Government Issue – Understand
16 Social Distortion – The Creeps
17 Last Resort – King of the Jungle
18 Legal Weapon – Equalizer
19 Stepmothers – Don’t Kill the Beat
20 The Vandals – Pizza Tran
21 Bad Religion – Atomic Garden
22 Kraut – Getaway
23 Agnostic Front – Gotta Go
24 D.I. – Johnny’s Got a Problem
25 7 Seconds – Straight On
26 The Dead Milkmen – Punk Rock Girl
27 Youth of Today – Can’t Close My Eyes
28 Poison Idea – Desecrate
29 Murphy’s Law – Shut Up
30 Dag Nasty – Values Here
31 Operation Ivy – Yellin’ in My Ear
32 Jeff Dahl – I’m in Love with the Gto’s
33 Cadillac Tramps – Hoodoo Guru
34 Gorilla Biscuts – High Hopes

This has something for everybody, TSOL, Black Flag and the band that if you’re “punk” you’re supposed bow down to: Bad Brains. Great compilation

If you don’t own it, get it.

Rating: *** three out of five stars

On with the story . . .

More than a dozen years ago, before marriage, before the birth of my son, etc., I found myself in some trouble, warrants, etc. And was sentenced to Camp Wayside, out by Magic Mountain, for approximately 1/3 of the year.

During this time I took a job as a barber, I cut everyone’s hair through high school, and enrolled in Barber College right after graduation. Years later I got into graphic design, and reserved haircuts for friends and family only. My job as a Wayside barber paid me in the neighborhood of 25¢ a day. Once I had been cutting hair for a few weeks, quite a few of the “white” sheriffs started waking me up in the middle of the night to “request” haircuts. This was the best deal in the place, they would give me extra food, sometimes do favors – watch someone who was giving me a hard time, etc.

Wayside would always have three barbers, Black, Hispanic, and White. Each race would, usually, stay with barbers of their own race, unless you did something to annoy your race. Then, as in my case, the Whites would go to the Hispanic barber. The three barbers bunked in the same section together, and worked together, and were, basically, stuck together 24/7. Even if you hated races different than your own, it was hard not to get to be friends with the other barbers. The problem with this was the inmates were divided into four distinct camps: The Blacks, The Woods (Whites), The Paisans (Mexicans straight from Mexico), The Southsiders (Mexicans gangsters). If you talk too much to anyone from any of these other camps, someone would want to beat you down.

I made it through two race riots, first one was Mexicans versus the Whites, no one died but plenty were wounded, I came out of it without a scratch. Second riot was Blacks against Whites; I came out OK, punched in the back of the head, but stayed up. After these riots the Head of The Woods didn’t want me to talk to the other barbers, Hispanic or as they referred to the Blacks – Toads. They wanted to remain racist without saying the dreaded “n-word.” Well, unbeknownst to everyone I was tutoring the head of the “black-car.” Bull, as he was known, didn’t know how to read (he was the other barber) and he felt I could help him without me telling people. Also, when internal race issues came up with the Blacks he would ask my opinion, but I would swear not to let this come out, it would cause further riots and get him beat down.

So, when more and more pressure was being put on me by the Whites, Bull talked to the heads of the “white-cars,” and said that I was Italian and I had the full backing of the Blacks at Wayside, so if there was a problem with me the Blacks would riot on every White at Wayside, but me.

After that I was left alone, but warned as I left Wayside to “never come back.”

I never went back.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

Symbol Six, RF7, White Flag Down, The Gypz, The Perverts
The Redwood, Los Angeles, CA
Friday, January 27, 2012
Admission $5.00
Time: 9:00 PM

This place is pretty cool to hang out, lots of seating, but if you want to see the stage get in close. There are only a couple of booths to sit at, otherwise, you’re chancing the pit..

As a, somewhat, regular to this club I swoop into the parking lot, pay my $5.00, walk around the corner, and I’m in like Flynn.

By the time I parked, got to the club, said a few “hellos,” and got to the door I had missed the first band The Perverts. So . . . I can’t review them, sorry.

I walk in and the second band, White Flag Down, is ready to start. These guys are better every time I see them. The vocalist, Coop can sing and the band throws in a classic blast of punk with an occasional seventies metal riff snuck in here and there. Great stuff.

Here’s where the night got fun. Somewhere between leaving my house and getting to the Redwood, I lost my camera. I just got a brand-new Android phone (don’t know how to work it), and there was no way I was going to watch a show and not photograph it. So, I head to the front of the stage holding my phone up (sideways) the place is super-calm, so I’m taking my time to snap pictures and learn how the phone works. Then all at once a three-person slam pit breaks out. Some ass-hat hits me in the eye, and since I didn’t stop to think, “Oh, they’re just slamming.” I instantly punched back. I hit some guy in the head. Then some guy comes up behind me, and does this bear-hug/prison rape attempt, I drop my new phone, as I behind down to get it this guy won’t let go of me. Some I grab him by the shirt, and pull him to the ground. Once I retrieve my (unbroken) phone, I leave the fuckin’ pit.

Now back in the early eighties when slamming became the staple at hardcore punk shows, it was based on the pace of the music, the energy in the room. Nowadays, a band could be playing a ballad and these jerk-off’s will go ape-shit.

Here’s my theory on it: you get a roomful of people that weren’t loved enough by mom, and loved too much by dad (follow me so far?) they will fill up on booze, hit the slam pit with one goal in mind, “God dammit, I’m going to prove to the world that I am a man!”

That’s great, if it helps you sleep on your tear-soaked pillow then slam, ass-hat. The only problem is if I am tapping my foot, and you’re swept-up in a surge of homoerotic energy, and ram me during a slow-paced rock song, I’m going to lay you out. And the beauty of being a gray-haired 45-year-old man is that security doesn’t seem to believe that I had anything to do with these guys laying face down on the concrete.

The third band on was The Gypz. Now this is where I’m at a loss for words, Mike Villalobos who is the vocalist, and bassist for the band is also the bassist for The Gears. So, I know he’s talented, but with the Gypz the songs were loose, and screaming, almost, freestyle vocals . . . well, they weren’t enjoyable. The three-piece were talented ability-wise, but songs weren’t all that enjoyable.

The fourth band on was RF7, they played a super-tight set.

When I first bought the Public Service album RF7 were my favorite band, for about a month based on these four tracks, I even went as far as painting their name on the base of my leather jacket. Felix Alanis, in my opinion created this, almost, monster-style of singing, this sound is everywhere now from Slipknot to Lamb of God. RF7, mavericks? Maybe.

They wound up their set with the entire room singing along with them to “Fuck Money,” while Felix lit a $20.00 bill on fire. Is he aware of our economy? Afterwards, Felix and Nick signed my copy of Public Service.

Finally, the last band of the night: Symbol Six hit the stage. The band was tighter than a gnat’s ass. People dancing slamming with vocalist Eric Leach in the pit, members of White Flag Down, and (producer) Phillip Raves are onstage singing along on the mike. Symbol Six has a new EP coming out soon on Suicide Kings Records, and the new tracks were getting great reactions.

By the time they got off stage, I was ready to have the band sign their 1982 Posh By EP. I was in full fan-boy mode throughout the night.

Another great show.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

T.S.O.L.
Disappear
June 26, 2001
Nitro Records

Jack Grisham – Vocals
Ron Emory – Guitar
Mike Roche – Bass
Jay O’Brien – Drums

1. Motivate
2. Sodomy
3. Crybaby
4. Anticop
5. Terrible People
6. Pyro
7. In My Head
8. Renounce
9. Socialite
10. Wasted
11. Automatic
12. Paranoid
13. Disappear

I have owned every TSOL album ever produced at one time or another, with the exception of the Joe Wood albums, and I have found something good in all of them, sometimes only a guitar riff; this one however I couldn’t find shit. Sorry, I’m a huge TSOL fan, but this one blew donkey dong.

If you don’t own it, don’t sweat it.

Rating: * ** one out of three stars

On with the story . . .

Back in the early part of 1982, maybe late 1981, there was a woman making headlines. Her mug was on every talk show, and her quotes were splattered across pages of many a woman’s magazine. Her name was Serena Dank. She founded some exploitative group called Parents Against Punkers. Between Flipside, Maximum Rock and Roll, and We Got Power, Serena received tons of hate mail, rude cartoons and overall vile comments.

Her goal was to sort of re-program punk kids into law-abiding preppies. But her argument was that punks were absolutely everything that was wrong with society. What blew about this was, like every group there were some bad apples but, every punk I knew was trying to make something of themselves.

None of Serena Danks’ ranting bothered me much. I felt I was under the radar enough to be immune. And I was for a minute, then at the age of 15 or 16 my mom and I would fight every time we would leave the house together. I wanted my leather jacket and 5 minutes to spike my hair. I was young, and mom took it way too serious.

So, she signed the family up for therapy. I went for about three months, the shrink was always trying to get me to come with my hair spiked, but for some reason this embarrassed me, and I wouldn’t do it.

After a few sessions with my mom and I together, the shrink told me she thought my mom was over-bearing, I really didn’t know what this meant, so I said, “Cool.” And thought nothing more about it. Then one day my mom was after me about something or other and I blurted it something along the lines of, “The shrink is right, you are over-bearing.” This flipped my mom out a bit, and she accused me of making this up.

Within a day or so my mom called and canceled all further therapy sessions. It was chalked up to me swaying the shrink to my way of thinking. Kind of using “Hitler-like mind control”. I was accused of this when I was much younger, if neighborhood kids liked me, but not my mom so much, I was pulling a “Hitler.”

Anyway, having gone through this I probably won’t care what my kids do with their hair, but then again I might turn into an old fart and bitch about hair length and color too. But the greatest thing to come out of the therapy was that my brother went on to become a psychologist himself.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.