This Atari Teenage Riot double LP comp titled, Burn, Berlin, Burn! was my first introduction into the bat-shit-crazy world of breakbeat hardcore. It’s a fever-inducing, riotous collage of sound eager to invoke internal bleeding, and is perfect noise candy for Monday afternoons. Had it not been for Grand Royal, I likely would have never exposed myself to this brand of ear violence, but as it stands, great pleasure can derive from a certain amount of pain.
Snapcase’s third full-length, 1999’s Designs for Automotion, yields the coveted #100 mark in the Victory Records catalog (VR100), and was released on black, white, orange (this), blue, red, and yellow vinyl. If you aren’t into Snapcase, but are a fan of Nation of Ulysses and Refused’s Songs to Fan the Flames of Discontent, you’ll love their melodic approach to the Hardcore genre. I had the pleasure (I think) of seeing them open for someone (The Bouncing Souls?) back in Milwaukee, and they blew my feeble mind. Snap to it and check out this band!
No, you’re not still dreaming, and yes, as it seems, Refused are not fucking dead. Pitchfork has the brand new track, Elektra, streaming right now, and you can pre-order Refused’s first album in 18 years directly from the Epitaph store. With an expected release date of 6.30.15, it’s without question that this summer is going to be imperative.
This sealed copy of Ec8or’s 1997 comp has been on my “to digitize and enjoy on the company iPod” for the past 4-6 years. It’s now 2015, and I’ve still not broken the musical seal. Did I set her aside as a reminder for a weekend project? Nope… and back into the cavernous stack she goes. Perhaps in another 4-6 years, I’ll think of her again, and maybe this time, her seal will be broken.
Obsessions are born, not necessarily made. Am I willing to save up, and eventually fork over $1k for a Rocket from the Crypt record, perhaps… does this tidbit of information have ANYTHING to do with tonight’s gesture? Well, decidedly, no. Released in 1985 on both (this) blue, and white vinyl, this 7-track 7” titled, Mystic Records Super Seven Sampler #2 features some pretty solid hardcore licks from Doggy Style (not what you think), Wall Flowers (again, not at all what you think), and the then titled, NO F-X. $10 for this guy back in 1998 was a bit of a head scratcher, but looking back, I can’t imagine ever thinking twice about this record’s purchase. Indulge the senses, kiddos!
When magazines camouflage their faces with legendary album covers, the hordes stop for a second look. Decibel Magazine, back in September of 2010, painted their printed face with a very familiar album with its 8 pages of chimerical bombination. Hats off to you, Decibel, and your creative gesture to (arguably) the greatest hardcore album ever released, 1998’s The Shape of Punk to Come, by Sweden’s Refused. It displays well, don’t you think? It’s been sitting, lovingly, atop my end table for the past 4+ years. Well done, Decibel Magazine… well done indeed.
File tonight’s venture under the heading of 10” pictures discs that haven’t been played in over 18 years. One of the most memorable live bands my teenaged self has ever had the pleasure of witnessing, the Chicago-based new, new wave ska hardcore band, The Blue Meanies, combined big band numbers with post-hardcore aggression, offered eye-opening repetitive (and loud) percussion, horns, and spitting lyrics bellowing forth from an amplified megaphone.
Pave the World, like most spot-on commentaries on the everyday unraveling of social morality (based on the motivation of greed and fatter stacks), wails like an uneasy siren of truth. The Blue Meanies were not a band to be taken lightly, and their wisdom will continue to paint the horizons of willing truth seekers generations to come.
There is something about the abnormality of a non-traditional vinyl disc that is both alluring, and instantly gratifying… specifically what that is will (fortunately) have to wait for a future engagement, when and where I find myself with more time and adequate resources with which to report.
But in the meantime… here is a pretty record by Judge, and please enjoy your weekend responsibly… somebody should.
Still fighting off whatever head-pressing virus has decided to camp out amongst the deserted prairie that is my weakened immune system, today’s contagious groove come from the 1984 Mystic Records Sampler #1 and Ill Repute’s Book and It’s Cover.
The Nardcore kings of hardcore punk, Oxnard, CA’s Ill Repute come with an in-your-face approach to the classic conception, “don’t judge a book by its cover.” I’m desperately searching for ways with which to attribute this philosophical approach to the name of the band (Ill Repute) and my current haze (sickness), but alas… none doin’ (this medication is causing a thick cloud of fog to form between my ear canals).
Thick, molasses-like sick has infected the otherwise healthy offices of the Prudent Groove this morning. So as not to spread my unhealthy funk, my frail and nauseated digits will shuffle out today’s post in rather brisk fashion (so that I may return to the couch with my tea and abhorrent daytime television). Chronic Sick, the New Jersey hardcore band from the early 80’s struck me by surprise when I discovered them some four or so years back. If there were such a genre as pop-hardcore punk, Chronic Sick would be its chain-smoking grandfathers.
Certainly not something for the whole family (to put it lightly), Chronic Sick are tight, agile, crunchy, hilarious, catchy, and tend to never overstay their welcome. Comprised of the 1982 LP, Cutest Band in Hardcore, the 1983 7”, Chronic Sick, and three unreleased tracks, this 2009 reissue is a perfect discography for those looking to acquire this band’s catalog on the cheap (their 7” sold on discogs for a whopping $892.94!). This particular version happens to be a bootleg, limited to 100 pressings, or so the internet is telling me.
Give the gift of 30-year-old sullen music, and allow Dr. Chronic Sick to cure your senseless ailments.
Dischord Records did a remarkable thing for fans of early, D.C. based hardcore. Back in July of 2007, the label, owned by Minor Threat frontman and drummer, Ian MacKaye and Jeff Nelson, reissued four, LONG out of print 7” EPs as the 12” comp, Four Old Seven Inches On A Twelve Inch.
When you consider how much these original records sell for (brace yourself, because this is crazy: Teen Idles – Minor Disturbance E.P. – $750, S.O.A. – No Policy E.P. – $450, Government Issue – Legless Bull E.P. – $208.35, and Youth Brigade – Possible E.P. – $538.40), fans of the genre, like myself, may not otherwise have heard these historic rants had a compilation such as this not been released. Totaling $1946.75 for the originals, the $12 price of the comp still doesn’t seem so bad.
Do you own Aglio E Olio (pronounced ahl-yo ay ohl-yo) by the Beastie Boys on wax? If you don’t, discontinue reading and go here. If you do, have you ever noticed the subtle misconception with the record? It’s not a wrong impression so much as a blatant deception. Allow me to briefly explain.
Here is the record, right? Nothing out of the ordinary, at least at first glance. It plays, doesn’t skip, everyone is happy. With me? Ok, good. So, for years I thought this was an ordinary record. I’d purchased it new, kept good care of it, saw that it wasn’t colored, only the basic black, would play it from time to time, and that was it. It wasn’t until about 10 or so years later that I discovered (thanks to Beastiemania.com) that the record wasn’t black, but instead an excellently executed bit of trickery by the band.
I’m 99.9% sure every Aglio E Olio record is translucent brown, so if you own this album, and you haven’t heard of this before, check it out. While you’re at it, Check Your Head.
Setting the musical content aside, as I assume few of you frequent the sheepish delights of early 80’s hardcore, Mystic Sampler #1, has a very distinct, unique, creative, humorous and memorable feature that NO OTHER record in my collection possess. It is a feature so ingenious, it can be easily misinterpreted as a pressing error. Had it not appeared at the exact spot on both sides of the album, I would have written it off as such, and this post would never have existed. It is a feature I’m dubbing, “The Intentional Skip.”
Punk Rock is more about emotion than it is about music. Whether you believe that or not is irrelevant, and beside the point. Allow me to explain this with a scenario. Imagine getting a used record… for me it was Mystic Sampler #1. Now, imagine putting your newly purchased record onto your trusty, freedom-yielding phonograph. The record starts… plays… you’re happy. Cut to the last revolution of the last track on Side 1. Familiar with the song or not, you can’t help but notice the record skip… and skip… and skip. You think, “Great! No wonder it was so cheap!” But as you start towards your music machine, you begin to think, and slow your determined approach. You listen, as the record repeats… looping the same words over, and over, and over… “Have a nice day. Have a nice day. Have a nice day…” As you stand, with a dumbfounded look on your face, you begin to cock your head, not unlike a dog when it thinks it understands what you’re saying. You begin to wonder… “WAS THIS SKIP INTENTIONAL?!”
Suddenly, there is a warm and fuzzy part of you that perks up, and for a brief moment of spontaneous realization, you find harmony with the world… that is, until a moment later when your head begins to ache from the incessant looping of an angry adolescent with their opinionated, political overtones bouncing back and forth inside your head-space until you physically ACT, and raise the tone arm in the attempts to cease the infernal rage. Punk Rock requires action, if only the motor skills with which to turn it off.
I simply will not entertain any notions that this emotion-inducing feature was anything but deliberately intentional. To do so would paint a picture of a world I want nothing to do with… a world in which I do not want to exist. As far as I know, The Prudent Groove is coining the term “Intentional Skip,” but if any of you have heard about this amazing feature, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org as I’d LOVE to read more about it. I’d LOVE to read more about it. I’d LOVE to read more about it…