Viletones (Video)

Shit's intense, on many different levels.

OPERATION: SUGARWALLS

L-R Dr. Matt Puke, Aaron Puke esq., Shawn Puke photo by Julie

My Sugar Walls...

My Sugar Walls...

     It was sometime after the watching Harmony Korine’s Trash Humpers. After the 1st additional beer run, and the re-run to someplace that had a much better chip selection. After the heavy consumption of domestic American and Jamaican beer and finishing off of a bag of Ju Ju Fish. It was after the speech to the team, which included the immortal first line "First there was D-Day, then there was this...”

     There were photos, goodbyes. There was a re-commitment to hugs for friends, handshakes for enemies ("But you always have been a hugger Shawn" he said). A distribution of sidewalk chalk and the mission briefing itself.

     Someone stepped in wolf shit.

     We all pissed outside, in the wild, on trees next to the driveway.

     It was definitely after a dramatic reading of Sheena Easton song lyrics complete with eye-to-eye moments that the mission would be named.

     A silly name for a silly beer driven idea.

     Yeah, we were crazy. Thinking crazy thoughts that seemed to make sense somehow in the long run... It would all make sense because we were vibrating on that sort of level.

     We were drunk. Everything made sense, no matter the obscurity. It could be done if we want it to be done. I imagine that the decision, and then later execution if all grand events transpired as we were transpiring, and conspiring that night.

     First there was the moon landing... then there was this,

     (OPERATION: SUGARWALLS)

     Matt Puke.

     No...

     ARCHIE & THE PUKES.

    Yeah…

   I cant remember exactly when, but the awesome ’77 revivalist punk (rePunk) snot-punk Cincinnati band Archie & The Pukes, made famous from their 1995 debut 7" on Cincinnati’s own beloved Centsless Productions… just stopped. Everybody grew up. Everybody went and got themselves a gosh darned edumacation! One day you turn around and where in the fuck is Jeff The Amish? Columbus what? No worries, Andy will just do that too. Aaron’s in San Diego joining the CIA… Matt moved to Texas. Oh wait, Aaron’s back but Matt’s still gone.  It was an ending of an era.  Leaving the band in true obscurity. Leaving the rest of us to jump at a moments notice when he calls with instructions with the particulars on when, how, where and the why of his visit.

     It’s usually a verily awkward window. Maybe a quick stop-by or maybe catch an evening at The Comet. Death in the family so he only has a Wednesday from 7 pm to 7:30... It all usually hits so quickly that it would take some form of unexcused work absence, or a last minute marathoning some evening to truly encompass a visit from Matt. Ultimately guaranteeing yawns and power naps during work hours when the boss isn’t looking or whilst taking breaks the following day.

     Matt Puke is definitely worth it.

     Yeah, even I cringe at what I have become, in some ways. In secret I loathe the predictable factory worker I have become. My life isn’t without perks; I don’t wish to take back everything I have now. Don’t get the wrong impression from what I’m saying, but I just wish there was more of a melding of those times with these times. Some sort of middle ground...

     Matt Puke has become the keeper of the flame, in some ways. The one who embodies all that was those times.

     I never want to think the good times are over. NEVER! Good times are ahead, as would be proven, and still yet to be proven again and again (you just wait and see).

      But still that call came. Those times.

     Saturday.

     Evening, sometime in the evening.

     “I’ve already called Aaron and Andy.” Matt said.

     Ok…

     I first met Matt whilst with my now wife at the very first performance of The Socials May 29th, 1995. He genuinely liked the band. I would like to think he still does. He handed us a version of the Pukes first demo. A cassette with a hand drawn cover tapped over some old metal tape that was deemed obsolete. It still had masking tape over the holes that allow you to record overtop of a manufactured store bought cassette.

     As with anyone who listened to that tape, I became a rabid fan of Archie & The Pukes and our friendship would grow at continued Socials shows and other shows where Matt would show up. He, and the band would become a standard in the scene. We would find kinship in the sub-genre of Killed By Death style punk rock and would combine our money to do bulk orders of records no one knew about. We would play shows with our bands, watch each other play shows, drink verily heavy and do all the things that you, the humble reader of this piece, would do.

     Or have done. Whatever your case may be.

     So Aaron shown up shortly after The Juice by Jerry, Socials drummer who has a handful of early connections to Matt Puke himself. We watched Harmony Korine’s Trash Humpers and tried best to answer each other’s unanswerable questions about the movie.

     Wolves kept peering into the window. Just a peek to make sure.

    Sometime after dark Matt arrived and things got more intense instantly.  The volume of alcohol increased, that was OK, and it was a Saturday night. Sundays are for hangovers, so lets make it count everybody!

     We talked of the sneezing, nose wiping beauty of the Pale Hulk, which is much like the other. Green Hulk. Well, no. Pale Hulk is nothing like Real, Green Hulk. Sneezes. Handkerchiefs and/or Bandannas everywhere. Lots of nose wiping and Big K Citrus Drop drinking. Lots of allergies and sweets. Equally, Pale Hulk is still a creature of science. Beautiful science.

     Talk, a grand discussion, was held concerning Matt Pukes infamous art (picture included below) that he offered up to myself just before evacing the Midwest. I have had the piece of art for years and still cant figure out its cryptic faux Russian message. The Juice by Jerry took it upon himself to try, that’s the key word, try and decipher its meaning and to this day, got the closest of anybody that’s tried.

     Details, as one could imagine, are fuzzy. Like any good American, I will blame something. So I will blame the alcohol! All that I retain of these fuzzy details is something about the movie Billy Jack the faux Russian styled message (that Pale Hulk... er, I mean Matt Puke) insisted was real Russian at one time, was some line from the movie. The Juice by Jerry got close. Damn close. He is a hero for many things, but especially this night and the work he done in the deciphering of this message 6at has eluded me all these years. I will take close. I’m fine with being as close to close as I am… for now.

     Talk of Operation Night Bird, and the aforementioned dramatic reading of the Sheena Easton song lyrics to “Sugarwalls” were read… And that led way into the development of what would be called Operation: Sugarwalls. Another meaningless display of break apart vandalism upon dear friends.

     The targets would remain the same.

     Andy Breightone would become this op’s PRIMARY target. He was PRIMARY because some light showers were entering the area. He had a covered porch. Liam Dolan would once again be  a target, but a SECONDARY one. He had no covered area that would protect what we were to do from any sorts of rain.

    What we would do would be another meaningless act of art. As if the flamingos weren’t enough for Andy and Liam. Now, we would draw non-permanent children's chalk outlines of Matt Pukes body CSI style on Andy’s porch, and if possible, Liam's driveway. With the message Matt Puke Wuz Here. Later, as the mission began to roll, we would add three finished cans of beer to the equation… Leaving them behind as forensic evidence. For the boys in the lab to figure out.

     Matt would even leave an almost finished donut on the outline of one hand.

     Matt loves donuts. Once, at The Neus Subjex 4^th anniversary party circa February 2000, he ate a dozen Boston Crème-filled donuts. That was just for starters.

     With such a mission being impromptu, and ‘of the moment’, we did a couple dry runs of the plan before mounting up. Matt would simply enough, lay there. Aaron and I would draw the outline and then scribe the message.

     You gotta have a plan and you must stick to it. In our state, the plan was shaky, true. But it was still a plan. Our drunkenness would propel the plan to new levels adding dangerous elements and widen our chances of being caught as the mission unfolded.

     None-the-less, after a speech by myself that unclearly defined reasoning’s of why such an operation should be done or performed that began, rather immortally with Troops, first there was D-Day, then there was this…” (Totally over emphasizing the importance of the current situation), after a dramatic reading of Sheena Easton’s “Sugarwalls” that caused at least two erections between us (My own, plus some other undisclosed persons erection is being counted, maybe more) that led to the mission being re-named Operation: Sugarwalls (for no logical reason mind you) from Aarons suggestion of Operation: Ninja (next time Aaron) and photographs where our faces were covered in make shift disguises…

     We pissed on trees, got Killed By Death #3 playing on the CD player (yeah, the lawyer has it on CD) and for the second, of three times that night Aaron Puke Esq. backed out of the manors driveway… A 150-foot journey to a four-lane road that regularly witnesses excessive speeds of 50 mph by most motorists. It was quite a feat in itself.

     We placed a quick call to Gunther 8544 to retrieve a difficulty on the mission at hand. Plus, I was just declared an honorary member of Archie & The Pukes! I had to tell Gunther this. So I placed the call to the Tidewater region of Virginia.

     It was 1am (approximately) by this time. Gunther answered on the second ring.

    Loudly I explained what was going on. The whole evening and I explained Operation: Sugarwalls and what we were doing. I explained the speech. The song lyrics. The stepping in the wolf-shit that smelled the car up and led to the moon-roof and windows all being opened (except the one next to Aarons suit). I explained how we were going to get some more beer and White Castles when we were finished.

     Finished! True Victory Castles!

     “What are you listening to? Can you turn it down?” Then I explained how I couldn’t. It wasn’t in the mission parameters. Killed By Death #3 was being played loudly. It had to remain there. Mission protocols. On the Or Else level. Gunther understood and did the math in his head and gave the mission difficulty level, an A-. That was a good level. It represented danger.

     After brief ears of Matt and Aaron, I thought Gunther would get a kick out of talking to the other operatives a bit). We were heading south from Fairfield into the wild-knowns of Cincinnati. Through Greenhills and all its police speed traps and memories.

     Through Finneytown and another stop for a cheap six of Milwaukee’s Best Ice (Ice-Beast) and donuts for Matt (a cool half dozen).

     Thru College Hill and no matter what you hear, Aaron was the only one brave enough to flip off the cop who had someone pulled over.

     Killed By Death #3 blaring. A sixer of beer and donuts. Moon-roof and windows down. Aaron flipping off cops. Despite the current soundtrack, “Danger Boy” by The Viletones got into my head and blared. Loudlily. Just to me.

    The drive by of Base Breighton was all quiet (once again). No lights on. Was the white noise projector projecting? Would the freedom dog, which I eluded in Operation: Night Bird, hear us on this Op? After all, there are more dangerous than one. Three drunken buffoons trying to drink a beer down over the course of a yard, holding chalk and eating donuts. Well, one of us eating donuts.

    We had to be loud. Surely Freedom dog would hear us. Alert Andy and Patti and Bam! We were caught!!! 1:30 Am. Three drunken fools on the rage. Drawing on a porch drinking beer and eating donuts… That would be a sight! One for the memory files… But alas, the beer was drank. Donut eaten down to a useable display in the hand area for the outline and empty cans deposited WITHOUT discovery. We even got brave and laughed out loud at one point.

     The mission record should show that one of the three actually finished their beer. The other two did a can-evac and poured their remainder out on the lawn. Pollution.

     Andy would later post a picture of the final product (also, see below). A beautiful picture of artistic beauty. He would also seriously doubt the freedom Dogs dedication to security.

    Or maybe, the operatives of Operation: Sugarwalls were that good. One, the other or maybe both.

     As Matt Puke would dictate earlier, as Aaron sped away “Hot Sody” by The Screamin’ Mee-Mee’s would begin and we would sing it, all three in unison driving through a neighborhood of people that were. Simply enough. Just trying to get some sleep.

     One of the mission parameters that were decreed early on in the mission was that the windows would be down and moon-roof open. This served a dual purpose. Finally. After a couple weeks of an intense heat wave, the trend broke and gave us a mild evening. Too mild for air conditioning. The heat had tempered everyone to the point that a normal, somewhat uncomfortable summer evening was made into a thing of total comfort. Comfort is relative, and this night that point was proven. Also, with the windows down and the moon-roof open, it added a carefree feeling to the operation.

      Oh yeah, it also had made it easier for Aaron to flip off the cops.

     The decision to proceed to the secondary target was all-go. With the windows down we also could keep up to the minute tabs on he status of weather. The widely scattered showers had moved in earlier, but it cleared out. They were scattered at best. Things seem to dry up if rain had even hit where Andy lived. So we proceeded to Liam and Lisa’s house.

     Castle Dolan. That’s what I’m calling it now.

     Aaron, with Matt navigating from the back seat had chosen a back-door route down the hill from College Hill to Liam’s neighborhood. A windy crooked curvy road where you could spy city lights in the area below and also one, according to Aaron neighbored a city dump and some sorts of farm.

     Aaron was hugging the curves tightly. Even brushing up against the roadside bushes from time to time. Killed By Death #3 was still playing loudly. The volume knob was turned up, and stayed at that location at this particular moment. Mission parameters were holding…

     At one point, as instructed, Aaron held one curve so tightly that I reached my hand out to allow the bushes to make contact. This was a dangerous move. Like as-if the movie Flash Gordon, in he swamp kingdom scene, when Flash put his hand into that big stump that held the poisonous creature. My hand could be ripped to shreds by the arrangement of the branches; depending how deep my arm went through the bush.

     Bush touching. A different kind of bush. Touching.

     Aaron drove expertly. My hand penetrated about halfway up my wrist. All that I felt was the gentle brushing of one of he bushes leafs embracing the op of my hand with a level of softness never witnessed from plant life before. The plant embraced me. It accepted me. The plant loved me. Shawn Abnoxious, friend of plant life!

     The secondary target, Castle Dolan, held a greater difficulty with their dog. I still didn’t know his dog hat well… The drive by was, once again clear. We parked two houses down. This would give us more time o finish off he beer. Well, more time for them to finish off their beers. As soon as I cracked mine, several seconds later I was carrying an empty can around.

     The drawing went well. As well as with Base Breighton. We had a few prolonged moments at the castle Dolan when an oncoming car, for some reason, spooked us and we went scurrying up to he house in an attempt to hide. Aaron would later point out how idiotic this was, and he was right. It was stupid. But then again we were three men, drinking heavily, drawing on our friend’s porches in the early morning hours listening to music recorded thirty years ago with analog equipment, on a digital format that spent a handful of minutes actually debating whether or not to place a dead squirrel we found in his neighbors driveway in he outline of where Matt’s hand would be documented.

     This night was about stupid as a stupider night could get. Things were reduced to this point, and designed for this point. This night was about being stupid. About still being able to be stupid. About still being able to not forget how stupid felt.

     Rain would move in later in the morning reducing the outline at Castle Dolan to a pastel mess with beer cans. As Lisa would say, it looked like some neighbors had a rest stop in their driveway.

     Tuff titty, on the operatives’ part. Fucking Mother Nature! The US should have put a couple JDAMS down that bitch’s word-hole back after Hurricane Katrina. Just like all the fucking red-ties wanted to. When we knew her location, had spotters on the job. Now the fucking villain has slipped back into some deep spot where we cant find her.

     None-the-less. Stupid felt good.

     It felt damn good.

     Mission, Operation Sugarwalls: ACCOMPLISHED!

I feel so alive when I'm with you

Come and feel my presence, it's reigning tonight

Heaven on earth inside my sugar walls

     Onward to White Castle. Once again. Parameters (Held).

     Aaron Puke. A titan. A lawyer. A titanic lawyer. A titanic titan. We hit White Castle and hit it hard. Matt Puke gets a cut up pickle. Aaron asked, and White Castle delivered. I didn’t know they did such things. Whoever I tell about this special order, also states they didn’t know White Castle did such things. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they only do it for Aaron. Or people like Aaron. Aaron Puke is a People’s People. I get two double cheeseburgers with no pickles or onions. Aaron gets two doubles with the pickles and onions. Aaron order’s Matt, along with the pickle, a slew of Mozzarella cheese sticks. In my name, that the workers of White Castle find oddly humorous, but yet endorse, and at one point even chant inside the restaurant, has one dollar donated to a charity I had already forgot about… But lets play it safe and say that it was something special for the kids… And in turn I got a certificate for one free WC. Doing the math on his deal, even in my condition, left he intent of said charitous measure to remain in question, but fuck it.

     Victory is as victory does.

     We got our food, and ate as we drove (somehow). Aaron took things to the next level when he took a mozzarella cheese stick. He broke it in half, twisted it, and placed it on top of a WC! This changed everything. Even though earlier in the night Aaron was forced onto the phone with Gunther, for brief intros and mission good-lucks, Aaron did not know about the development of the term, or maneuver known as gunthering. Without knowledge, Aaron gunthered his WC! It was the beautiful topper of a beautiful victory representing a beautiful night of pure, relatively forced embraced stupidity.

     Driving north, back to Fairfield. Riding high on a successful operation. It could have been many things causing the act, but I’m not going to blame adrenaline, I’m not going to blame plant-life, I’m not going to blame he alcohol. I’m not going to blame the stick market. I’m definitely not going to blame the WC’s… for the fact that as soon as I finished my first Gunthered WC, I immediately vomited the unit back up into my own mouth, catching it for a eat-back. Just as good a second time really.

     Let’s go ahead and blame the police. They blame us for every wrong they do, so back at ya pig fucks.

  Police were everywhere on the way back. Aaron had installed some tunage by The Descendents for the ride home.

     “Suburban Home”

     “Parents”

     “Catalina”

     Shit hit hard.

     We continued to sing as Aaron kept his finger out for the pig motherfuckers surrounding us. Not the smartest thing to do despite the current environment in Cincinnati concerning the police and their trigger fingers, but this night, Thwart Operations, are NOT about doing the smart thing. They are about the stupid thing and taking it to newer, higher, elevations. Tension was high, but that was OK. Maybe I could blame that for my ate-back WC…

     No, that’s not fair. That’s not how justice works around here is it? White Castle has always been there for me. Well, except the time they threatened me with pig intervention…

    We return home. There were no parades to meet us. No presidents with three-color banners. Nothing except the same trees to pee on that we pissed on when we left. The trees were my friends even though I piss all over them.

      Plants are my friends. They make air for me to breathe.

Lemme take you somewhere you've never been

I can show you things you've never seen

I can make you never wanna fall in love again

Come spend the night inside my sugar walls

(My sugar walls) oooh (my sugar walls)

Base Breigton Display photo by Andy

Cryptic Artwork by Dr. Matt "Texas" Puke

Soldiers' Table 

Certain General (Video)

Hailing from New York City, the land of salsa, comes this band that still remains somewhat obscure with some interesting guitar play if I do say so myself... I actually have a sort of 'comprehensive' CD from them thats pretty damn cool. Check into them further if you get a chance. They are worth it.

Lose The ‘Tude "... Starring at Pictures of Kurt Cobain” 7” ep

     This is the second release from this Columbus Ohio area hardcore band that has really impressed me. I mean that. I’m impressed... Even more so that to hear that some part of this band hails from a long running pop punk band called DELAY. What?!? Is pop punk NOW the same stuff that I detested THEN? Since when did NOW exactly become NOW and not THEN? Am I that fucking old NOW? Because the way I tend to remember it, pop-punk had its place but I didn't know ANYONE that could be remotely involved in that genre and be able to crossover and be involved in a band with a sound like Lose the ‘Tude! Impressive. The press release links ‘Tude to positive hardcore stuff like GORILLA BISCUITS, which is actually a band I really got into for a it back there (1) as well with all those other bands on that NYHC tape with YOUTH OF TODAY, SICK OF IT ALL, NAUSEA and more... But if CRUCIAL YOUTH are posi-core (as in positive hardcore) then I must say, ‘Tude fucking blow them away. ‘Tude don't throw it down yer pie hole about brushing your teeth or anything, this band isn't a preachy band... In fact, this 7” is way better than that stuff. They aren't that brand of positive hardcore. ‘Tude are about the positive outlook and exhibit the enthusiasm that many bands fail to achieve their entire career. Yeah, ‘Tude are reminiscent of material like you found on the label New Red Archives, but actually, a bit more interesting. There are ten songs on this 7” in the vein of hardcore thrash-punk reminding me slightly of early POISON IDEA (without as much Germs influence) but really bringing to mind SoCal hardcore circle-pit punk. The Bandannas-around-wrist-and-head sorta junk... Not talking necessarily LEWD or anything, but ‘Tude are intense and reach out with a studded fist behind that scream. I can see pictures of this band playing live (in my head), and how it should all look based on how this record sounds. I have said it before and I will say it again, punk-rock isn't dead. But hey, got a bit off track back there... Standouts from this 7” include “Consuming Me” from side A and three more from side B “Give a Shit”, “Spray Out” and the incredible jam that harkens back to the mid-80’s hardcore days song “Fleas” which exhibits the phenomenon of Last Song; Hardcore (2) which is a bit loose and out there with the ending noise and tempo change... Wow. This release is the sort of thing that really gets me into a band. I think if I seen one of their LP’s or CD’s or a flyer on a telephone pole in the ‘bad part of town’ I would be inclined to check this band out. Me and Treebeard with 40’s in the pit (he is holding my second one unopened) wearing Star of David back patches picking kids up when they fall down. Fuck yeah! We would do it for the kids!!! Also, if you listen to this record PROPERLY (3) you will find a locked groove at the beginning of side B. Cleverly placed. Verily inconvenient. I appreciate that. Thanks, in so many ways, whoever decided on that feature... I owe you one and a half PBR’s or Juice Boxes or whatever your poison is (we will each have one and sip-n-share one as a symbol of camaraderie; mein promise to YOU).

(1) As in Back In The Day™
(2) Term developed in conjunction with Andy Breighton (thank you). Last Song Hardcore is a phenomenon whereas hardcore bands would typically use their last song to exhibit a free form jam of some sorts that would be a bit different compared to their other songs. Sometimes, it would be/could be a bit post-punk or artistic...

(3) 3/5 times placing stylus to record MANUALLY I found the locked groove. After 5 'AUTOMATIC' tries none found the locked groove.

Sacred Plague Record http://www.SacredPlague.com

Kaleb Keefer 7746 Whitehall Cir. E, West Chester, OH. 45069

SWITCHED! Shennanigans @ Shake It! Records

SWITCHED!, a photo by The Big Drop on Flickr.

It's the ol' switcheroo!!!

Shhh. Dont tell the fine folks @ Shake It records but becoming inspired by THE CHOCOLATE HORSE, I switched the innards of the GG and BANANA SPLITS 7"s. I bet whoever buys them wont even notice.

Once again....

Once again., a photo by The Big Drop on Flickr.

Is that a snarl, or a smile?

Take Out Your Pistols... Its a Reunion?

Breaking news. You heard it here on ...THWART first!


If you look on the feed-back page, you will find a message from Mike Enright of THE ED DAVIS BAND to myself, where he mentions that a ED DAVIS BAND REUNION is NOT out of the equation.


Now I wasn't 'that guy' when contacting Mike, he brought the issue up to me. I mean, yeah, I would love to see a reunion here in Cincinnati maybe coinciding with another CUSTOMS show, and lets throw favorites BY PRODUCTS OF AMERICA in for good measure... All of it in a dirty alley somewhere in Northside in the summer of 2012.  But who knows what the future will bring? This, or something better.


So this blog would be a good place to hear any future developments concerning this Reunion... The If's, Why's and all that kindsa stuff.
Until then...


Take out your pistols....

The Reason Why The Yard is Half Mowed

Mowing the lawn...

...again.

The lawns growth being

as-if a never-ending, uphill struggle...

The story of my life.

Hill after hill after hill.

"My Son" as performed by

THE BY-PRODUCTS OF AMERICA

Is up on the player...

Thru the headphones...

For me…

At me…

With me…

This, despite the fact

That I am far from my goal

of completing the mowing job...

This song is the reason

why.

        ... It’s a damn good song.

        ... Quite possibly the best song ever!

I said

            Possibly.

            Ever...

The song inspires action.

The song demands action.

The song brings action...

A different style of action...

As I sing-a-long to the jam

I turn the mower in mid-job

With half of the yard still needing mown

and bring it to rest in the barn

where it normally sits when not in use.

Still singing a long,

I turn off the mower

And leave the remainder of the yard

for some other time.

Some other song.

 BPA @ The Gypsy Hut

Tim Schwallie of BPA sings "My Son"

Listen. Laugh. Learn(?)

     Hey, a new episode of FUNCTIONAL INCONVENIENCE has just been made available for your listening pleasure. I have also made a page for the endeavor on THWART as you can see in the above page-bar... Theres also contact info, and other pertinent data., Take a minute to go there and see the list of bands that were played in the latest episode and learn about the new regular recording schedule.. or just listen to the damn show HERE

The Ed Davis Band OR ELSE!

     I don’t recall exactly how I stumbled across the Mike Enright site talking about the history of The Ed Davis Band (TEDB) including the We’re Just Like You (WJLY) Loft footage from YOU-TUBE that, all of a sudden, began to root itself in my brain and inspire me... But the how isn’t important. What was important was that the first exposure I had of TEDB, on some '77 revivalist compilation that I cant find, and that song stuck with me all this time so when the current slew of TEDB stuff began to surface, and my latest phase of life (whatever you want to call it) worked itself out, my enthusiasm for music- punk-rock music (with the dash), had returned in earnest.

     I not only became inspired from what I read on Mike Enrights site (there is a link below) not only about TEDB, but all the talk about the We're Just Like You media collective and all their various projects, but the evolution and focus change to NYC and the band that TEDB would become, DESI DESI DESI. I began to crave them too…

Needless to day, I was verily interested. Verily indeed.

    So inspiration leads to creation... As the idea for THWART was finally being enacted after much personal deliberation, and I feel comfortable enough to say that Mike Enrights site and as I would discover, a re-issue of TEDBs debut 7" onto LP with added, unreleased tracks from Rave Up Records, inspired me to once again enter the fray of whatever it is you call what I do. But really, it isn’t just blogging is it? Blogging is one of those terms. A lame term. Like ‘mash-up’. I don’t feel comfortable referring to something, and using the term mash-up, but I used it and I felt dirty afterwards. ‘Blogging’, sounds like a nautical term sailors would use. Sounds plain boring that way. Whatever I do with THWART, please god, don’t let it be blogging. Let it be anything but…

     I had just finished posting OPERATION: NIGHT BIRD on THWART when I decided that I deffy needed that TEDB LP. Not wanted, but needed.

     So I turn to the natural resource known as SHAKE IT RECORDS for my needs. Its hard to think of a time before Shake It, and to be honest, a trip down that lane of Cincinnati before SHAKE IT RECORDS is not needed right now. It’s not exactly a tale of dread; Cincinnati has always had decent record stores but nothing that really struck out as a regional powerhouse like SHAKE IT has. It’s more like a tale of constant ups and downs. A tale of inconsistency.

     I get dressed. Its been verily hot in Cincinnati here of late and usually I will stay stripped to the bare minimum when not in public (underwear, gunnie towel with T-shirt optional), but if I was to be heading to SHAKE IT, I would need to be dressed... I have to try, and going to retrieve this record while in underwear (with or without a T-Shirt) just wouldn’t be trying. I had enough of this bullshit trying, if I was going to do this, whatever this exactly was (cause I wasn’t even too sure, not even sure as I write this), I was going to have to learn to try again. I had to care. I had to be enthusiastic. I had to put some pants on, put a fucking shirt on and maybe even lace up some boots… Put my designer Idi Amin shirt on; mayhap throw a stud band on and make to trip. First, I would have to make the call… to insure product availability. So, with vigor, I dress and make the call...

I memorized the phone number. Don’t you have your favorite record stores phone numbers memorized?

Then…

Gasp!

It isn’t so!

     A representative from the store shared news that they didn’t have TEDB LP! Didn’t even offer to order me one! (double gasp!) So, reluctantly, I took off my pants and stripped back down to my pre-trip outfit, wiped the newest sweat-beads off with my trusted gunnie towel and ordered the record from the standby... The Internet.

     That infernal beast. One of mankind’s most beneficial and dreadful things it has ever created. Verily so, a double-edged sword with no handle.

     That evening I sipped on some Labatt Blue while I watched the inspiring TEDB You Tube video again just for good measure. That video (see below) was right up my alley. Imperfect. Fragile. Raw and tufff (not just tough, but tuff- with three f’s). I had watched it several times before this moment and would watch it several more times in the waiting time period until the record would arrive. I remember the jam “Keith Richards’ is Dead” being good from that punk re-issue, and the B-Side would make its way to me also soon thereafter, it was mighty fine too, but on this video, the band and jam was incredibly lethal. It had a criminal element about it. It almost sounded illegal to be listening to (hey, is that a helicopter hovering just outside my window, strange) “Richards is Dead” was played with gusto, and angst. Slightly sped up, there seem to be an element of danger to the tempo, like I said, criminal. I bet each band member had at least a 5” switchblade in their jean pockets. This was Cincinnati in the 70’s? This was the punk heritage of my cities scene? Truly inspiring. Watching the video made the waiting for the LP only seem to increase.

     But that’s OK. Nothing easy is worth anything. The more I had to endure, the sweeter the reward. Right? The harder it is to do something, the more that the powers fight against you to get even the smallest of rewards, only makes success tastier. Right?

Well, I would like to think so.

And also, I see The War of Angles has found me on Thwart. That didn’t take so long…

     Over the next week while I waited for the LP to arrive eyewitness reports would find their way to me that SHAKE IT RECORDS did, in fact, have the LP. Ugh. I was told by two different patrons where to find it- hanging on the walls next to blah blah blah. Verily accurate directions. It was just overlooked when I called. Thought maybe out-of stock even, but no. Instantly I felt stupid, lazy and a betrayer of my own ideals and morals.

     The following Saturday afternoon, the record arrived just in time for the recording of an installment of FUNCTIONAL INCONVENIENCE (FI), a ‘radio-like’ program piloted and subsequently wrecked by Andy Breightone and myself. We would listen to the record in its entirety before doing the show and end up playing two tracks from the record during the show. Exactly per my plan.

     First impressions were verily pleasing… While Andy got everything together for FI, I chipped in to help the industrious P39 with a large order of magnets. I let Andy decide if the records shrink-wrap stayed on, or came off.

He chose to leave it on.

     We listened… We recorded the installment of FI, including two different TEDB jams in the show, then I would take the record home and ‘tate it in the baking privacy of my own home. Sitting in just my underwear, sweating profusely, while drinking Hudepohl Amber Lager wiping myself off every so often while absorbing everything this LP had to offer.

     Side one starts off with “Keith Richards is Dead” the A-side from their original 45-rpm. The ‘hit’. The mastering of this record really brought out the punch of this song. I heard an mp3 of this, and the B-side “Asshole” countless times. But on this LP, “Keith Richards” sounds fresh. It sounded new, and exciting. Could it have been that that weeklong wait making the sounds and all the expectation that much sweeter? Yeah, it could be that dammed waiting period. I admit that… It’s a distinct possibility. On “Keith Richards” you are exposed to the first TEDB ‘reference’ in one of their songs. Right there, in the middle, out of no where is a measure of “The Last Time” by The Rolling Stones no doubt referencing the songs message telling of repetitive hoaxes advocating Keith Richards’ death (maybe that’s what’s keeping him alive). I remember hearing about Keith Richards’ death at least three times (two actual, one more ‘bonus’ for good measure). This referencing would appear again in other songs, like on the dark and doomish 1^st B-Side appearance of  “Last Year At Surf City” (another Live version wraps up the record at the end), and during the absolutely creepy homosexual call to action “Take Out Your Pistols Faggots”. This referencing is interesting to say the least. Right there, in the meaty-ness of the song- BAM! You are reminded by a Lil’ quick reference to another song, and its feeling, and its mood and its message.

     From there, the LP starts a run with the sneering “Lets Fuck Each Other” followed by “95 Amplified” and “Dead Stars” (hmm talking about the energy crisis? We have not progressed as a ‘people’ people!) exhibiting the bands sound at its best. Kinda bringing to mind a more jangly art rock version of Australia’s The Chosen Few, because these songs are gritty. They’re dirty. They’re real and explosive. Sounding loose and brittle at times but energized and elevated to the next level by the mock of the songs final delivery. These songs make me feel mischievous, they make me want to go out and tip over trash cans and drive through peoples yards, like when I was a teenager. As it states on the LP jacket, this band was steeped in Pere Ubu, Patti Smith group and MX-80 Sound. We all have to start somewhere, and that’s a cool place to start.

     I’m not new to Rave Up Records and all they have to offer. I was a fan pretty early on. This LP is number 61 in their Lost Punk Nuggets Series. I have some of those records somewhere that go back to single digits… To me, they have been known for having stronger A-Sides than B-Sides. That also seems to be the case with this LP, but as far as the LP goes as a whole, I’m not unpleased with it compared to some of the other volumes I have gotten. This record is deffy a keeper.

     Side B opens with the scathing original B-Side “Asshole” showing the teeth of this band just before your left with a bite that will be inevitably become infected and fester. This song completes what most people have heard from this band, including me, until now. It saunters on with another version, a live version this time, of “Keith Richards” from the WJLY loft (which is the audio of the You Tube footage that I fell in love with). Great version of the song. I must interject here. I have witness first hand, a capacity crowd at Sudsy Malone’s during my time in a gigging band; about 350 people, during a Forget Cassettes show. It was hard getting that place that full. I don’t find it unbelievable that the WJLY Collective could consistently pack 300-500 people into their parties. I do not doubt the validity of that number. I’m just wanting to see numbers like that again at more spots, especially parties. And to do that, I’m personally going to have to take it upon myself to get my pants on, get a Idi Amin designer shirt on. Lace up the boots. Throw on a stud brace (or two) and instead of making a call, just GO and DO IT.

Myself. Set an example.

     The B-Side is populated with interesting gems; including “I Still Hate the Nuns” is a latter era TEDB jam featuring fem vox from Fran Slater. Described as girl group pop on Mike Enrights sight, and not liked by much. This track is deffy a turn of direction for the band into a new realm, but one also that deserves attention. With the verily art-rock “Kill the Dogs” that I’m sure presses the boundaries of what most would call listenable, but it deffy shows a reflection of what the band is. Before all of this new found info on TEDB, including Mike Enrights website, I was under the impression that TEDB was a rock group that maybe, sounded a bit punk and found a place with that label. After learning more I see that TEDB were punk rock art pioneers, plotting a course through uncharted territories without templates and a solid piece of ground to stand on. TEDB is not average. They aren’t a bar-rock band that just so happens to find a home within punk-rocks definitions. TEDB are a unit that struck out on their own accord and did what they wanted, how they wanted. If you liked it, good. If you hated it, then even better! That meant they were really doing their job! Its bands like TEDB, THE CUSTOMS and all of the soon to be Hospital Records stuff that charted the way for bands in the 90’s, who ended up being part of something that would and could and did make the next generations scene better. Without a basic foundation, any movement or group is doom, and TEDB was part of Cincinnati’s musical foundations. Punk-rock (with the dash) or otherwise.

     So TEDB eventually became Desi Desi Desi. Just like you, I’m given a brief example of that here on this LP. A morsel…

Desi Desi Desi… Hmmm. OK! I’m ready for that now.

The wait has began, and you know what a wait can do…

-fin

Visit Mike Enrights Site HERE

Become inspired. Get dressed. Do something.

Download an episode of FUNCTIONAL INCONVENIENCE (if you are brave enough) HERE

Watch THE ED DAVIS BAND 

Now, watch DESI DESI DESI