dynamitehemorrhage:

Well, this is something of a find – a good-quality audience tape of the very first FLESH EATERS show at Los Angeles’ Masque in December 1977…! Are you kidding me? I would have given my right arm for this thing at any point during the past 30 years, and it’s just been sitting there since May waiting for all of us to listen to it.

Thanks to Jon Hope for hipping me to this site Noise Addiction II – I’ve barely even dug through it yet and have already found that the site is just bursting with LA punk and oddities from the 70s and 80s. Don’t mind me, I’m over here shoving files into my piehole.

So the Flesh Eaters, in their very first show, still sound searing and raw on most tracks. This was from Chris D.’s “screaming” phase, which you can read him disowning in our own Dynamite Hemorrhage #1 fanzine, which has a lengthy interview with him about this era. The tape contains their cover of the Magic Band’s “Plastic Factory” as well as another cover I can’t place right now….can you? The tape cuts out just as the monstrous “Automaton Bombs” is just getting locked and loaded.

I can help a little with the song titling as well. Minus the one I don’t know, here’s what you’ll hear:

FLESH EATERS – live at the Masque, December 21st, 1977

  1. Disintegration Nation
  2. Agony Shorthand
  3. Police Gun Jitters
  4. Plastic Factory
  5. Achieve That Reject
  6. Brain Time
  7. title unknown
  8. Jesus Don’t Come Through the Cotton
  9. Automaton Bombs

Download the thing here.

IN SCHOOL tearing the motherfucker down at Laughing Horse Books last Wednesday. Best straightforward HC band in ‘Merica right now. So stoked to finally see em live after listening to them on headphones after fucked up days at work. Now I got to see it live and in person after a fucked up day at work. You can see me ruining most of the footage in the left corner, old sweaty gray Roxy Music shirt pacing back n forth because I was way too tired, carrying too much stuff in my bag, too worried about my glasses breaking to even git in da pit. Also I’m a dingus and forgot my zine where I wrote up the Praxis of Hate 7 inch to give them. But I fucking sang along goddammit. FEAR.


First issue, come n’ get it. Music fanzine, no scenes. Freak power//Future music.Interviews with Tyrants and Wet Drag. Write ups/Reviews on Vex Ruffin, Priests, Health Problems, Yi, In School, Good Throb and more plus a blurb of tribute and recognition to Steven Jesse Bernstein, street poet spider of the pacific northwest, and his Prison LP.

First issue, come n’ get it.
Music fanzine, no scenes. Freak power//Future music.
Interviews with Tyrants and Wet Drag. Write ups/Reviews on Vex Ruffin, Priests, Health Problems, Yi, In School, Good Throb and more plus a blurb of tribute and recognition to Steven Jesse Bernstein, street poet spider of the pacific northwest, and his Prison LP.

This is a review of Hank Wood and the Hammerheads “Go Home!” LP that didn’t make the cut for the first issue of Totally Different Head. Since the review is basically a year old and the record is over two years old, it didn’t seem as relevant to keep in, but I still liked how it came out. There’s a certain point where “rock music” can be too smart for its own good, when there’s too much awareness, consciousness, poetry, politics, too many unnecessary members over playing their instruments, too many laptops, midi controllers, pedal boards, chord changes, delicate melodies and consideration to sound quality. Many shades of “indie music” qualify as this, and it usually neuters itself from even being rock music. But on the other end of the scale, so much current rock music is too stupid for it’s own good, where people start using it as a good excuse to not use their brains, and essentially demean themselves and their audience. A glut of current pop punk and garage rock bands have come out where pizza has become a relevant song topic, partying is a defining aesthetic, and using the same chord progression up and down the neck is considered songwriting. Essentially it’s “Dee Dee Ramone in Rock n’ Roll High School” as a genre. That bumbling dolt who can barely play bass and who’s only addition to the conversation is “Pizza!” But what most of them missed is that Dee Dee actually wrote amazing songs that just happened to be three chords/three minutes. To quote Spinal Tap, “It’s such a fine line between stupid, and uh, clever.” Which in a roundabout way brings me to Hank Wood and the Hammerheads, an NYC band whose LP “Go Home!” came out in 2012 and I completely missed the boat on until a few months ago. Here’s my tardy slip, but it’s been blasting my lobes regularly, my favorite punk record to come out since Brown Sugar dropped “Songs of Birds and Racism.” The two records are basically kissing cousins for me in that Hank and the ‘Heads play totally D-U-M-B punk rock that isn’t nostalgic sounding or dim-witted, just streetwise, tough and musically regressive in the best possible way. It’s what NY punk should always sound like even if post 9/11 NYC is a world away from the grimy fucked up bankrupt city of yore. It’s that brutal street kid honesty that’s more in the spirit of the Ramones than any band mimicing the bowl cuts and leather jackets ever could. Hank reassures us that it’s still hard on the streets, its murder, and fuck you don’t look at me. He has the good sense to realize that since no one is gonna understand what the fuck you’re yelling about anyway, a song only needs two lines of lyrics to get the point across.It’s probably more fun to just yell out “OW!” “UGH!” and “HONEH, DAHLIN, CHILD” than to figure out what else rhymes with “street” other that “feet” and “heat.”And unlike a lot of retro-obsessed garage nerds’ futile attempts at replicating Nuggets chic, the Hammerheads have all of the organ-grinding overdrive and lateral hip shake of the Sonics, but merged with the thuggish baseball bat bluntness of hardcore. It not only makes you wanna dance but spit, ball up your fist, scoot your ass on the ground or push somebody for no reason. Perfect rock n roll should make you feel like a devolved raving goon even if only for two sides of an LP or the duration of a 15 minute set. Photo reblogged from:@miyakobellizzi

This is a review of Hank Wood and the Hammerheads “Go Home!” LP that didn’t make the cut for the first issue of Totally Different Head. Since the review is basically a year old and the record is over two years old, it didn’t seem as relevant to keep in, but I still liked how it came out.

There’s a certain point where “rock music” can be too smart for its own good, when there’s too much awareness, consciousness, poetry, politics, too many unnecessary members over playing their instruments, too many laptops, midi controllers, pedal boards, chord changes, delicate melodies and consideration to sound quality. Many shades of “indie music” qualify as this, and it usually neuters itself from even being rock music. But on the other end of the scale, so much current rock music is too stupid for it’s own good, where people start using it as a good excuse to not use their brains, and essentially demean themselves and their audience. A glut of current pop punk and garage rock bands have come out where pizza has become a relevant song topic, partying is a defining aesthetic, and using the same chord progression up and down the neck is considered songwriting. Essentially it’s “Dee Dee Ramone in Rock n’ Roll High School” as a genre. That bumbling dolt who can barely play bass and who’s only addition to the conversation is “Pizza!” But what most of them missed is that Dee Dee actually wrote amazing songs that just happened to be three chords/three minutes. To quote Spinal Tap, “It’s such a fine line between stupid, and uh, clever.” Which in a roundabout way brings me to Hank Wood and the Hammerheads, an NYC band whose LP “Go Home!” came out in 2012 and I completely missed the boat on until a few months ago. Here’s my tardy slip, but it’s been blasting my lobes regularly, my favorite punk record to come out since Brown Sugar dropped “Songs of Birds and Racism.” The two records are basically kissing cousins for me in that Hank and the ‘Heads play totally D-U-M-B punk rock that isn’t nostalgic sounding or dim-witted, just streetwise, tough and musically regressive in the best possible way. It’s what NY punk should always sound like even if post 9/11 NYC is a world away from the grimy fucked up bankrupt city of yore. It’s that brutal street kid honesty that’s more in the spirit of the Ramones than any band mimicing the bowl cuts and leather jackets ever could. Hank reassures us that it’s still hard on the streets, its murder, and fuck you don’t look at me. He has the good sense to realize that since no one is gonna understand what the fuck you’re yelling about anyway, a song only needs two lines of lyrics to get the point across.It’s probably more fun to just yell out “OW!” “UGH!” and “HONEH, DAHLIN, CHILD” than to figure out what else rhymes with “street” other that “feet” and “heat.”And unlike a lot of retro-obsessed garage nerds’ futile attempts at replicating Nuggets chic, the Hammerheads have all of the organ-grinding overdrive and lateral hip shake of the Sonics, but merged with the thuggish baseball bat bluntness of hardcore. It not only makes you wanna dance but spit, ball up your fist, scoot your ass on the ground or push somebody for no reason. Perfect rock n roll should make you feel like a devolved raving goon even if only for two sides of an LP or the duration of a 15 minute set.

Photo reblogged from:

@miyakobellizzi

I finally finished this fucking thing. Working on it for way too long but new town, new zine. Interviews with Tyrants and Wet Drag + a buncha other standard issue fanzine writing/reviews. I’ll be doing mailouts and what not in the following week if anyone else wants.

I finally finished this fucking thing. Working on it for way too long but new town, new zine. Interviews with Tyrants and Wet Drag + a buncha other standard issue fanzine writing/reviews. I’ll be doing mailouts and what not in the following week if anyone else wants.

suicidewatch:

Crime at Whisky A-Go-Go, 1977

blownfromthesunintothesurf:

goodbysunball:

If ya haven’t noticed, the ladies are wiping the floor with the fellas this year in punk and hardcore; Good Throb’s LP is a killer (major understatement), new 7”s by Permanent Ruin and Hysterics are vital and urgent, and then we have what might be my favorite of ‘em all: In School’s debut 7”, Praxis of Hate. While the rest of the dudes in hardcore are going for the deranged serial killer/mutant look (which, OK, is kinda entertaining in its own right), the aforementioned bands are all pushing back against an institutionalized sexism, one that appears to be wiped out but persists, an unacknowledged and ignored fact that we choose not to believe in an age where one story of bringing down an oppressor trumps several hundred more dark realities. Maybe you’re guilty of this line of thinking, maybe you’re not, but it can’t be denied that this kind of music hits so much harder when it’s made with a purpose. This ain’t anger for the sake of justifying your fingerless leather gloves; this is raw, explosive hardcore, a burst of corrosive bile back in the faces of those who need it, and a wake-up call for the rest of us. Praxis of Hate is a dose of vicious 1980s-style US hardcore, all bared teeth and barbed wire; lines like “Apocryphal scum/I know WHAT YOU’VE DONE” are repeated until you can taste the metal and blood. Absolutely electric NYHC at its finest.

Kill Test Records put this one out, and if its got their elusive stamp of approval, you know it’s a keeper. Buy it at Sorry State or Feral Ward, download/stream over at the In School Bandcamp

yeah!!!!!!

100%. Youth crew dudes turn over your instruments to your neighborhood girl gang.

shadowoftheskull:

VOID performing live in Washington, DC, 1984.

shadowoftheskull:

VOID performing live in Washington, DC, 1984.