Wednesday, August 28, 2019

My Skull Fest Adventures: Part II



     When last we left our “hero,” he was bound to the giant novelty typewriter of Skull Fest which was heading into its third day.  Who will swoop in to save the day?
     Continue on for the exciting conclusion of my Skull Fest adventures.
.     .     .
Night Three:  Spirit
     I ended up skipping the afternoon matinee at Babyland knowing full well that I would need my wits about me for the evening show at Spirit.  Killer Of Sheep was on the bill so that meant the possibility of lugging drums was in my future.
     Staying home for a while was probably a good idea.  As the exhaustion settles in, it starts to open the door for the depression to creep in and if that had happened I wouldn't have left the house until Monday morning for day job.  I'm guessing that was part of the funk that led to me leaving after De Rodillas the night before.
     Apparently, my body was in need of nutrients after two days so I hit Onion Maiden for takeout and devoured an inadvisable amount of food after a morning of musical palette cleansing.  The new Oh Sees and Sleater-Kinney records added to the Bowie At The Beeb box set made for a much needed respite from the screamy-shoutiness of Skull Fest.
     The Bowie BBC sessions are a lifesaver.  I'm not trying to make the case that David Bowie was the lynchpin of the universe or anything but have you read the news since his passing?
     My self-care routine continued for another three hours because my copy of Avengers: Endgame showed up in the mail so I was able to nerd out before show time.  After three viewings, that dopey comic book movie still knows how to make a grown man cry.  As much as I should have used that three hours to write and edit photos, my brain needed the downtime and distraction to recharge.
     After finishing off a pot of coffee, I was off to 51st St. to see what the night had in store.  And boy, was there a lot ahead for me.
     I was able to bypass the security check since I was “with the band.”  I felt gross playing that card but at least it got me out of having my nuts grabbed in an unfriendly manner.
     Greg The Drummer's kit was already set up when I got there so all there was for me to do was sit around and wait for the first band to go on.  Unfortunately for me, Greg's kit was being used by all six bands that were playing which meant I'd have to be there all night so as to not leave Greg in the lurch on load out.  And it did make sense to use his kit since he playing in two of the six bands anyway.
     The Detainees were up first and were definitely worth checking out.  They've got a much looser, less aggressive way about them and were a great change of pace from the crustiness of the other bands.
     Killer Of Sheep played second and quickly reminded me why I dig that band so much.  It had been way too long since I had seen them and I had been jonesing since May when they opened for Eyehategod.
     I got what I hope is enough pictures and went to my post on the side of the stage.  The kick drum started to walk away on Greg during the songs and he had to keep moving it back in place between each one.  That is one of the things that bothers most but there isn't much that can be done outside of using a long ratchet strap wrapped around the kick and the throne.
     I had had enough of it so I knelt down in front of the kick drum to hold it in place.  This way it would free up Ollie, the singer, to go off and be Ollie without having to put his foot in front of it and not be able to move.  Luckily, someone “borrowed” a cement block from the gas station next door so I no longer had to serve as a human paperweight.
     After Killer Of Sheep, it was revealed to me that I had a Caustic Christ sized hole in my heart that I didn't know needed filling.  The last time I saw Caustic Christ play was at the Oakland Beehive when they opened for D.R.I. which had to have been around 2000 or so.  That was also the night that I met Kurt Brecht and talked to him about writing for a while at the merch table.
     My Caustic Christ records were always in my listening rotation but I didn't realize it until they crashed into “Mirror Punching” while I was standing stage right that, yes, in fact, they really were that good.  And my epiphany lasted all of five songs because that's when the power went out.
     My first thought was, “Oh, shit.  I kicked the plug out of the wall” because I was standing next to an outlet.  This lack of electricity had to somehow be my fault even though I was standing still.
     Sadly, it was nothing as simple as plugging something back in.  There was a fast moving storm that moved through Lawrenceville and took the roof off of a building.  The debris from the building took out a transformer and power to most of the neighborhood along with it.
     The second half of the Caustic Christ set was scrapped and the organizers went into damage control in an effort to get the show back on its legs.  While I was sitting around to see how things would play out, it dawned on me that I had a camera so off I went to Peter Parker the shit out of the storm damage.  This also gave me a chance to get some distance from the venue.  Since there was no A/C, it got really hot really fast so almost everyone was hanging around outside trying to entertain themselves.
     I picked the right direction to start walking because it wasn't long before I saw the flashing lights and kept walking toward them.  The storm had removed a the roof from a building on 48th St. and not so gently put it down on the sidewalk on the other side of Butler St.  The streets were cordoned off so cars and pedestrians had to detour down the narrow side streets.
     By the time I had gotten back to the club, a few camping generators had shown up and extension cords were being run back and forth.
     It took a bit of creativity but Sheer Terror was able to play with only the vocals running through the PA which was hooked up to one generator and the amps were plugged into another.
     Due to the delay, the remaining bands had to play abbreviated sets because there was also a curfew on the show even though it was 18 and over.  Set lists went out the window and the three remaining bands were calling audibles to get their time in.
     There was finally a stroke of good luck when the power came back on during Drop Dead's set. Which was a good thing just to get some air flowing around the club.  There was so much humidity in the room that it looked like someone had just mopped the floor.
     Poison Idea finished out the night and I was glad that I got to see them since this is supposedly going to be their last tour.  As soon as they walked off stage, Greg and I ran onto the stage packed up his drums and headed for the exit.
.     .     .
Interlude:
     Here's a brief history lesson for the unfamiliar that may get lost in the weeds.  This is all coming from memory so there might accuracy issues.
     At one time Aus-Rotten members included Dave Trenga (vocals), Corey Lyons (bass), Eric Good (guitar) and Matt Garabedian (drums).  The band split into two with Dave and Matt forming Behind Enemy Lines and Eric and Corey going off to start Caustic Christ.
     This means that all four members of Aus-Rotten were playing Skull Fest at some point over the course of the weekend.
.     .     .
Night Four:  Cattivo
     As much as I wanted to hit the afternoon matinee to see Loose Nukes, I had to pass in order to run errands and get things ready for the coming week.   Hydration and nutrients were once again in high demand.  A mountain of sauteed cauliflower covered with General Tso's sauce and kale was on the menu for dinner.
     I almost didn't make it out of the house.  By 6:30, my body was starting to rebel against the abuse I had been putting it through and wanted to get reacquainted with my couch.  I figured it was one last show so out the door I went.  If I'd had enough, I could always head home.
     This final night of Skull Fest was also the thirtieth anniversary celebration for the label Profane Existence.  Not only have they been releasing punk and metal records for the past thirty years, they are also the perpetrators behind the recent Aus-Rotten reissues that sound amazing.
     After the first two bands, the depression had come bursting through the door like a pre-racist tirade Kramer.  The person carrying on at the top of their lungs about the cocaine bender they had been on all weekend did not help my mood either.  I put the camera away and was about to bail but I forced myself to hang around for Behind Enemy Lines.  It was time to end my streak of not seeing them play over all these years.
     Behind Enemy Lines is easily in the top ten bands that Pittsburgh has ever produced.  Lyrically and sonically on point all of the time.  Caustic Christ guitar player Bill Chamberlain, who was also in Behind Enemy Lines at one time, sat in for a few songs to end the set.
     Members of Behind Enemy Lines left the stage, except for Dave and Matt.  Corey and Eric walked onto the stage with their instruments.
     From my perch behind the stage right speaker stack, I was about to witness Aus-Rotten playing live for the first time in I don't know how many years.  Suddenly, the exhaustion and depression fell away and were replaced with giddy anticipation.
     Over the twenty some years that I have been going to shows, I had been in rooms in which the crowd had completely lost their collective shit.  Or at least I thought I had until Aus-Rotten slammed into “Xenophobia.”  The term “ape-shit” would not adequately describe the energy of the crowd.
     Then they went into “Fuck Nazi Sympathy” and I thought the club was about to become a hole in the ground.  I had to put the camera away and help hold the speaker stack that was almost knocked over from the amount of movement in the crowd.
     Aus-Rotten only played two songs but they provided the much needed release of energy that I think most people in the room have been feeling for the past few years.  There were people leaving the pit in tears when the band was done.
     I have listened to those two songs so many times over the years that they have seeped into my DNA but I had chills and was in a daze for few minutes after all was said and done because I had never seen seen them with my own eyes before.  I don't know what the legacy of Aus-Rotten is or what other people think of their records but that band carries a lot of weight with me.
     I staggered back to the car and made my way home even though there was still one band left to play.  The hour was getting late and the alarm was set to go off sooner than later.  When I did get home I still had the shakes from Aus-Rotten and only managed an hour of sleep before I had to head into day job.
     Having to spend eight hours surrounded by the stupidity of corporate Amerikkka after seeing Aus-Rotten was damn near impossible.  It was a feat of strength every time someone opened their stupid face in my general direction not to yell, “FUCK YOU!!!  I saw Aus-Rotten play two songs last night so FUCK YOU!!!”  Those people would never understand because it didn't involve their fantasy league or “reality” television shows.
.     .     .
     The organizers and volunteers of Skull Fest are owed a large debt for putting the fest together.  It is a massive logistical undertaking and that's before things outside of their control start going wrong. From dealing with skittish club management/security to having trained medical volunteers with NARCAN at each show.  Since I normally stay home when it comes to these things it was amazing to see the amount of work everyone was putting in to pull it all off and rolling with the unexpected when they had to.


Wednesday, August 21, 2019

My Skull Fest Adventures: Part I


     Skull Fest was last week (8/15 through 8/18) and after there being ten of the damned things, I finally made it to the eleventh.  It was four days of dehydration and exhaustion that taught me a few things about myself and my limitations.  Here's a rundown of my misadventures over the first two days along with my inability to understand that I am way too old and out of shape for this shit.
.     .     .
Night One:  Babyland
     I came running out of day job in search of food and coffee in order to maintain some level of functionality.  The first mistake of my Skull Fest journey was made immediately when I thought it was a good idea to head in the direction of Subway for dinner.  At least I had a gift card.
     After ingesting a sandwich that could easily be ranked in the top three most disappointing sandwiches that I have ever eaten, I was off to Zeke's for caffeine.  And as if the universe knew that I needed coffee and was in a hurry, it threw in my path a woman that had seemingly wandered in from the suburbs to buy coffee beans without the mental capacity to purchase coffee beans.  Unwilling to read the descriptions that were printed on the bags, she had the lone employee explain to her the roast and flavor of each type of bean.  After fifteen long minutes of astonishing indecision, the employee was relieved to discover that I knew what I wanted and had the exact change to pay for it.  Coffee in hand, I was finally on my way to the venue.
     The first few bands were really fun but as the night wore on the beer throwers became more abundant.  That is an activity that I will never understand.  I could give two shits about beer but I would give a spilt cup of coffee a memorial fitting for General Organa.  Not a single drop is wasted let alone willingly thrown across a room.
     By the time the last band went on I had had my fill for the evening.   I took some pictures and bailed so I could rest up for the following day.
     The highlights for me were Charged DIS and Nandas.
.     .     .
Night Two:  Spirit and Cattivo
     My second night of Skull Fest began with learning my lesson from the previous day and not going to Subway.  I also heeded the warning I was given many years ago about the pizza at Spirit.  It was once described to me as “overpriced, garbage pizza.”  So I made my first pilgrimage to B52, in Lawrenceville.  I went with the seitan shawarma wrap and a side of sauteed mushrooms and kale.  The food was fantastic but I got hung up on the coffee order.
     For a place that put coffee on Front St. when I walked in the door, they sure did serve up a tiny cup of iced coffee.  In my blurry eyed exhaustion, I almost asked if they could bring over ten more of them.  I also made the mistake of going with coconut milk instead of almond milk.  I don't think the almond milk would have panned out either but coconut milk is a sure fire way to fuck up a cup of coffee.  And of course, I still slugged it back.  With intentions of hitting two venues in one night and not a drop of coffee between the two, my precious life blood could not be wasted.
     After an oddly invasive pat down that was very reminiscent of Stage AE, I was granted entry to Spirit to see Pandemix, Humanmania and T.A.Z.
     I'm not sure who was responsible for it but whoever thought to play The Birthday Party over the PA before the bands started deserves a medal of some sort.  That was exactly what my ears needed to get ready for the evening.
     I saw Pandemix back in April at The Rock Room.  They were good then but this time around they outdid themselves by leaps and bounds.  I don't know if it was because of the better quality PA they were playing through or if it was the miles they've travelled since but they tightened up their attack.
     T.A.Z. was a pleasant surprise.  Their singer had a very carefree approach that reminded me of Polly Styrene from the X-Ray Spex.  If I was thinking, I would have hit the merch table to see if they had any records but for whatever reason I failed to do so.
     As much as I wanted to see Rubella Ballet and The Mob, I skipped out to give myself a break before the late show at Cattivo got started.  Two days of work mixed with two nights of shows were starting to take a toll.
     Lawrenceville isn't a neighborhood that I've spent any real amount of time in so I was glad to take the opportunity to walk around a for a while between venues.  During my walk from Spirit to Cattivo, I noticed how complete the gentrification/colonization of Lawrenceville has become.  I couldn't help but stop and laugh at the open air cornhole court that I had passed.  The self-proclaimed future CEO's and financial criminals of Amerikkka were out in full force to get their drink on, on a Friday night. Butler St. has certainly become the Carson St. of the eastern part of the city.
     After successfully answering the three questions posed by the security trolls at Cattivo, I made my way down to the basement for the first band.  The club was split between the first floor and the basement so bands could play on each floor with only a small amount of overlap.
     As I was watching the first two bands in the basement, I noticed the crowd seemed to be more and more lubricated as the time went on.  My guess is that the folks that were attending the afternoon matinee show at The Rock Room and the other show at Spirit were filtering into Cattivo.  After a long day of pounding PBR, the drunkards were drunkier than usual.  In an effort to avoid them, I went back upstairs to wait for the first band to hit stage there.
     That first band was De Rodillas and the main reason I was still sticking around.  I saw them play a few months ago at Babyland, opening for Torso and immediately became a fan.  The band's singer has that feral approach that you wouldn't want to cross paths with in a dark alley and she just lets it rip.  Relentless and so much fun.
     As much as I wanted to stick around for Generacion Suicida, I decided to head home.  There were too many drunks for my limited amount of patience and I needed to rest up for the following night.
.     .     .
     Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of my Skull Fest Adventures.   Same Skull time. Same Skull channel.


Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Bad Religion At The Roxian Theater, 8/4/2019


     Bad Religion came through Pittsburgh this past Sunday (8/4/2019.)  They played at the Roxian Theater which is a venue I had not been to before and rather much enjoyed.
     According to the house sound engineers, they are still trying to fine tune the room for vocals so once that's done the Roxian should be a pretty decent place to see a show.  The staff was friendly and the security was much less aggressive towards concert goers as compared to some other venues in town.
     The Lawrence Arms, a three piece band from Chicago, were the opening act.  They are one of the many bands that I have heard of but my ears never crossed paths with over the years.  If I hadn't spent way too much money on Bad Religion merch, I would have definitely picked up some of their records.  They are certainly going to be on my list the next time I hit the record store.
     It had been too many years since the last time I saw Bad Religion play.  It was November 12th, 2005 at the Rostraver Ice Arena with Anti-Flag opening.  And the time before that was at Club Laga on October 15th, 2000.  Bad Religion did come through last year with the Punk In Drublic tour but I skipped it because it was a steep ticket price for too many other bands that I didn't really care about at an outdoor venue that is next to train tracks.
     After the blood loss and stupidity of the previous day, going to see Bad Religion was a sorely needed catharsis.  My plan of being a nerd by keeping a running set list in my phone immediately went out the window as soon as the band hit stage with “Them And Us.”  By the end of the song my eyes were welling up.  All I was capable of doing for the rest of the evening was singing along as song after song washed over me.
     Dr. Graffin and company can still hit it harder than most punk bands half their age.  The set list was certainly assembled to please the crowd with the greatest hits.  But being a band as good as Bad Religion has been for damn near forty years most of their songs could qualify as greatest hits.  As with most bands, the standouts for me were the newer songs.  The band perked up when they played songs off of Age Of Unreason since they haven't been playing those songs every night for a decade or so.
     Age Of Unreason has quickly become one of my favorite Bad Religion records.  It hits all of the buttons that a Bad Religion record is expected to hit but it came out at a time when my brain really needed a new Bad Religion record and I've been jamming it into my ears on a more than regular basis.
     The band really didn't mention any of the current events going on in the world.  Letting their music speak for them.  Bad Religion’s been singing about this shit ever since How Could Hell Be Any Worse?  As they were walking off stage, the bass player, Jay Bentley, did have some words for the crowd.  It was pretty much along the lines of stick together because we're all we've got.
     I did have the pleasure of sharing Bad Religion with my daughter.  Seeing her jump along to “New Dark Ages” was worth the price of admission.  There are few moments in my life that I can point to with absolute certainty and say that I experienced true joy.  That was one of them.  Being able to share Punk Rock with her is one of the best parts of being a parent.
     After twenty-seven songs of all killer-no filler, it was time to head back to the car.  I'm not saying that Bad Religion could cure all of life's problems but at least for one night they did make the load a little easier to bear.
     The only downside of the evening was having to miss seeing Killer Of Sheep who were playing across town at the same time.  I have been jonesing to see them play again since the day after the last time I saw them.  Luckily, Skullfest is coming up and they are one of the many bands scheduled to play.

Here's the setlist:

  1. Them And Us
  2. End Of History
  3. Fuck You
  4. Stranger Than Fiction
  5. The Dichotomy
  6. Recipe For Hate
  7. Chaos From Within
  8. Los Angeles Is Burning
  9. The Handshake
  10. My Sanity
  11. Atomic Garden
  12. Lose Your Head
  13. Suffer
  14. No Control
  15. Against The Grain
  16. Skyscraper
  17. Anesthesia
  18. I Want To Conquer The World
  19. 21st Century (Digital Boy)
  20. Generator
  21. New Dark Ages
  22. You
  23. Do The Paranoid Style
  24. Fuck Armageddon... This Is Hell
  25. Sorrow
  26. Infected
  27. American Jesus




Thursday, August 1, 2019

What The Fuck Pierre?


     So South Dakota decided to chime in and put on full display why no one lives in South Dakota.  Back in March, their state legislature passed a law stating that all public schools in the state must prominently post “In God We Trust” in a common area such as the cafeteria or a main entryway.  The NPR article that was put under my snout can be found here.
     This tremendous waste of time, resources and money that will be diverted from actually educating children will inevitably end in a lawsuit or two.  The only intention of these laws being passed is for them to be struck down in court.  This way white Christians can cry victim and claim that they are being oppressed.  At this point, I guess it could be argued that they are imprisoned in a metaphorical concentration camp of the mind.
     Freedom is a messy thing.  Some people think it means “I can do what I want and you can go fuck yourself.”  That is not how a society can operate unless we were all cut from the same cloth.  And that is part of the sentiment behind this steaming pile of bad logic.  Attempting to instill a love of country and fear of god in each student so everyone is the same and more compliant.  Fuck this flag store patriotism/Hitler Youth brainwashing bullshit.  These signs are to let everyone know that the Great American Stupid is in charge and don't you forget it.
     My main concern is the weird kid that wears black every day and sits by themselves at lunch while reading because I am the forty year old version of that weird kid.  Part of that concern is how exactly are they going to get the fuck out of South Dakota as soon as possible.  They need to start stealing their parents' beer money to buy guitars and one way bus tickets.
     We need to compile a list of the weird kids in South Dakota to put together a humanitarian mission to send them music and books.  Stuff their brains with the Clash, Against Me!, Aus-Rotten and the Ramones.  Let these kids know that it might not get better out here but at least they're not alone.
     I'm not necessarily thinking of a union of weirdos to pull this off.  More of a loose collection of wayward souls.  There's no way we could have meetings because none of us would leave the house to attend.
     Nonsense like this makes me wonder where it all went sideways.  In the late 1800s and early 1900s, the Midwest used to be heavily populated with freethinkers and rabble rousers.  Immigrants from other countries, no less.  What happened to the people that were instrumental in unionizing industry to make their children think that living in a “right to work” state was a good idea?
     Indiana alone gave us the titans Eugene V. Debs and Kurt Vonnegut.  Now the state is unleashing the likes of Mike Pence upon us all.  He couldn't think his way out of a wet paper bag that was already torn in half.
     Maybe all of those cuts to education funding over the past few decades actually had the desired effect.  It didn't help that whatever funding remained was diverted from teaching children to become well rounded global citizens to shepherd in the future.  The leftover money was dumped into football stadiums to give them concussions.  That money may as well have been set on fire.
     A populace that doesn't know how to think can be easily manipulated into going against their own best interests.  That partially explains the TV preacher and the huckster politician.  They've got snake oil that needs sold and the under educated 'merican is ripe for the selling.
     Every time signs like these go up in a public place, it's a reminder that the dullards have the numbers and they're waiting to see who might be brave enough to stand up to them or who lets it slide.  Letting these acts of aggression slide over the years has given them the confidence that no one will challenge them.  Ever since that slow escalator descent into hell four years ago, they have been emboldened so they no longer care if they are challenged.
     These signs may as well read “Ignorance Is Strength.”