I'm Sure Many People Have Said This Better Than I Have But...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Jams Were Kicked Out And Then The Jams Kicked Back

     This past weekend was a flurry of activity that has left me dehydrated, exhausted, suffering from a head cold/fever and yet again, questioning how I've allowed things to play out the way that they have.  There was so much going on that, sadly, I had to pass on the Eyehategod/Obsessed show.

     It all started on Friday with the MC50 show at Mr. Smalls.  The MC50 is a band that, MC5 guitarist, Wayne Kramer put together for the 50^th anniversary of the band.  He enlisted Brendan Canty of Fugazi on drums, Kim Thayil from Sound Garden on guitar, Billy Gould from Faith No More on bass and Marcus Durant from Zen Guerrilla on vocals.

     The night got off to a rough start due to the severely undercooked black bean burger that I was served.   I spent the next three days wondering what the thing was going to do to me.  Luckily, the burger didn't make a hard left and knock me on my ass.  Looks like I'll be going back to the veggie wrap from now on.

     The usual front of house engineer wasn't working so there was not as much attention to detail put into the mix.  It didn't help things all that much that the singer from one of the opening acts seemingly didn't know that she needed to actually sing into the microphone and not microphone adjacent.

     Then Wayne Kramer walked on stage.  As many times as I have listened to Kick Out The Jams, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into.  There was no preparing for the audio airstrike that he called in when he started playing.  I had to put my jaw in my back pocket because I was tired of it being on the floor.  Wayne would have been in great form for someone in their thirties let alone being a septuagenarian.  No wonder he put together a band full of heavyweights.  I don't think anyone else would have been able to keep up with him.  All of the songs had a driving chunkiness to them that served them well in a live setting.

     Saturday began with a journey to Spring Hill Brewing for a record fair that was put together by Mike from Mind Cure Records.  I came up with Russian bootleg pressings of the first two Stooges records.  They sound like hell since they were pressed from copies of copies but they sure do look cool with the Cyrillic writing on the covers.

     I came across Submachine’s Now That I Have Given Up Hope, I Feel Much Better on green vinyl. I had been waiting to cross paths with another copy of that record for quite some time.  The copy I bought years ago was pressed on recycled vinyl and there are bits of center label pressed into the grooves which can be hazardous to turntable needles.

     Other finds included an early pressing of Damaged by Black Flag and a pressing of The Velvet Underground And Nico from the mid-80s that was signed by drummer Moe Tucker.  There were a lot of other records that I would have liked to have brought home but I came to my senses when I realized that I was about to buy different pressings of a handful of records that I already owned so I decided against buying even more records that I already owned.  Look at me showing restraint in my old age.

     I almost missed out on The Stooges and Funhouse bootlegs because someone else got to them before I did.  Fortunately, I had picked up a copy of Houdini from the Melvins that he wanted so a compromise was struck and we traded.  It just so happened that he was as big of a Melvins fan as I was a Stooges fan so we both lucked out.

     After a stop at Sushi Fuku on S. Craig St., I was off to the Carnegie Lecture Hall to see Henry Rollins and his travel slideshow.   Instead of his usual spoken word, the travel slideshow is a presentation of photos he has taken from journeys to every corner of the world.  It's still an entertaining and inspiring two and a half hour show.  There were pictures and stories from the Middle East, North Korea, Siberia and Africa.

     The final photo was a picture taken by Spot, Black Flag's former sound engineer.  It was taken in the rehearsal room during Henry's audition to join the band and captured one of the moments that forever altered the course of his life.

     The problem I have with shows such as that, or a really good punk show, is that I always end up having some sort of existential crisis which usually begins on my way back to the car.  I start double guessing every decision I have ever made to that point and wondering what would have happened if I hadn't gone the day job route.

     The panic and the anxiety were relieved in no way whatsoever by my Sunday activities of grocery shopping, laundry, yard work and defrosting the freezer in the basement. What a low impact existence I have.

Remasters Of The Universe

     As the world of music is getting longer in the tooth, reissues and remasters of various records are getting released as the albums approach their 30^th, 40^th and 50^th anniversaries.  Either that or a license expires on an album or a smaller labels catalogue and another label picks it up for a rerelease.

     This can be good news if a record has been out of print for a while or if long hours have been put in to cleaning up the sound on an old favorite.  But this could also spell disaster for a reissue if the label putting the records out is less concerned with quality than they are with the quantity of dollars they could possibly bring in.

     The David Bowie box sets that have been coming out every fall for the past few years leave a lot to be desired sonically.  The output volume of the albums seems to have been neglected along with there being several odd choices made in the mastering.  There were inconsistencies in the sound throughout.  Heroes was a great example of this from end to end.  I have finally given up and sworn off picking up any of these box sets in the future.   My scratchy old vinyl will more than suffice. Maybe if Parlophone spent as much time on the music as they do on the packaging they wouldn't have lost a customer.

     The Sound System box set of the five Clash albums was painstakingly remastered by guitarist Mick Jones.  The last time anyone had touched those albums was back in the 90s and the only thing that seems to have been done was a boost to the low end frequencies but neglecting the mids and the highs.  Mick Jones made it very clear at the outset of the remastering that this would be the last time he would be involved in any Clash release so he was not playing around.  I was not even halfway through “Janie Jones” when it felt like I was listening to The Clash for the first time.  By the end of “White Riot,” I was in tears due to the Joe Strummer shaped void in my soul.

     Reissue labels, such as 4 Men With Beards, are a mixed bag.  It's great to see the chances that they take putting records back out into the world but they only master for digital purposes and use the same master for vinyl.  The analog spectrum is broader than the digital spectrum which causes distortion because the digital spectrum is being stretched to fit into the analog.  I keep harping on the recent Wire reissues that the band put out themselves because the first Pink Flag vinyl I heard was the 4 Men With Beards pressing and the difference is night and day.  The guitar tone on “Ex Lion Tamer” knocked me on the floor.

     There are also labels, like Sanctuary, and to some extent, Cleopatra, that will license an entire artists or smaller labels catalogue.  They'll do a small run of colored vinyl, slap a “New And Improved” hype sticker on the cover that will quickly go out of print but then do nothing with the license until it expires.  It's almost as if they pick up the rights to these albums just to say they own them and have these bands on their label.  As if owning these licenses provides them some sort of hipster street cred.

     Then there are labels (SST, I'm looking at you) that really need to go back and revisit their catalogue.  With a roster that includes the Minute Men, The Stains, Husker Du and Black Flag, those records are screaming to be properly reissued.  Given the technological and budgetary constraints involved when those albums were recorded, most of them sound flat and muddy.  Instead of suing former bandmates and having videos pulled off of YouTube, maybe Greg Ginn should spend some time with the Punk Rock history that he's sitting on and get to remastering.  And maybe he could start to set things right by paying everyone the royalties they'd be due from these hypothetical reissues.  Then again maybe pigs will fly someday.

     The Internet is not the best place to go for opinions on how a specific reissue sounds due to the subjectivity and personal preference involved.  But it can be helpful to notice if the majority of the Internet is not happy about a remastering.  In those cases, it's probably best to stay away since nobody on the internet ever agrees about anything.

     This is another reason why I end up owning multiple copies of the same record.  Yes, I have an original pressing of that record that no one cares about.  But I also have the remastered anniversary pressing that no one cares about either.  And I should probably be ashamed to say that I regularly spend my Friday nights with a pot of coffee while listening to them both back to back.  That's how I party on the weekends.

Pigs. In. SPAAAACE!!!

     A few weeks ago, I was sitting around at my dad's house after we worked on my car.  Given the news that is constantly on his television and the newspaper that is always sprawled out on the kitchen table, it wasn't long before current events became the topic of conversation.

     After a lengthy discussion about tariffs and how they used to work back when there were still manufacturing jobs to be had, praises of a certain person were starting to be sung.  I interjected with, “Really?  Space Force?  Come on.”

     My father then proceeded to rationally explain why we might actually need some sort of security presence in space.  Since everything from finances to the power grid touches the internet, our telecommunication satellites might need to be protected.  Over the years, Russia and China have been launching their own satellites and who knows what their capabilities might be to damage our satellites.

     I'm not sure if he was mentioning points that our failing government had made because every time they say something about this program it involves yelling the words “Space Force” which is followed by my brain shutting off and moving on to the next topic so as to prevent itself from being damaged.  If there was an adult in the room, they would calmly state what the purpose of this program is by using their inside voices instead of explaining it like a hyper-active six year old that just saw Star Wars for the first time.  “The bad guy killed the old man and then the good guys got away and made the big space thingy go boom and then everyone got a medal except for the hairy space dog man.”

     The way my dad put it, Space Force almost sounded reasonable.  Which is what happens when normal people have a discussion about a topic that doesn't devolve into a petulant child stomping his feet and screaming, “I want Space Force!!!” in the middle of a toy store.

     And then I started to feel as if I was having a stroke because my brain began rejecting the idea. There are hungry and homeless people that could be cared for with the billions of dollars that Space Force will more than likely set on fire.  Our veterans are being perpetually mistreated and that money could go toward fulfilling the empty promises that were made to them.

     That money could fix our roads and bridges.  That money could go toward renewable energy technologies so we could try to stop cooking ourselves.  It could be used on education and healthcare but no.  Let's go blow stuff up in space.

     I'm sure we'll be violating some decades old international treaty about not blowing stuff up in space but who cares.  We don't have to live up to our end of agreements but every other country has to because of some false idea of superiority.

     After the first spacecraft that looks like a gold plated Millennium Falcon blows up on the launch pad, I can hear the Idiot In Chief asking why it didn't work.  “It works in the movies all the time.  Just last week, I watched it three times and it didn't blow up once.  Why did this one blow up?”

     For someone that is so smart the concept of time zones had to be explained to him, I can't wait for him to be involved in rocket science.  I'm sure the most involvement he'll be allowed to have is the creation of the Space Force theme song that'll be performed by a Creed cover band.  Or maybe let him design the uniforms that will end up looking like gold lame` track suits.  And then he'll get bored and forget about the whole enterprise, much like he's done with his children and wives.

     The only possible positive outcome of Space Force that I can see is that it will hopefully get us closer the Planet Of The Apes.   Humanity has squandered this planet.  Let's see what another species can do with it.  Zira/Cornelius 2020.

Killer Of Sheep For Lunch, Monolord For A Midnight Snack

     This past Saturday (9/1/2018,) presented an opportunity that I have not had in a long time.  Hitting two shows at two different venues in the same day.

     The day began much like a rocket exploding on a launchpad or a plane crashing before it leaves the runway.  A screaming headache grabbed me by the skull around 3:30am.  It was the kind of headache that had so much pain in the temples and behind the eyes that drilling holes on either side of my head to relieve the pressure actually sounded like a sane idea.

     After a breakfast of Excedrin and Advil, I finally started to feel close to human around 1pm so what better way to treat a headache than to go see Killer Of Sheep play an outdoor show at a motorcycle show/demonstration.  They were playing at this year's Mods vs. Rockers event, up in Harmarville, that was held in the parking lot of one of those family fun centers that always seem to have the word “Zone” in the name.  The type of event and the type of band that Killer Of Sheep is didn't really line up in my brain so my curiosity in how things would play out was certainly piqued.

     Upon arrival, I could tell that the crowd was probably not of the ilk that would have as much appreciation for a group of black guys slinging some of the best punk rock that any band has to offer into their earholes as I would.   It was a mix of affluent white suburbanites with their dull children that don't know how to act in public and legit bikers that I would certainly steer clear of since getting my ass kicked never seems to be on my list of things to do.

     Given the amount of reading I've been doing lately on hate groups in Pennsylvania, my paranoia level has been ratcheted up more than usual and Killer Of Sheep does not really fit into the demographic that motorcycle events seem to attract.  This paranoia might also be firmly planted in my imagination due to having binge watched Sons Of Anarchy several times over the past few years.

     The band hit stage and did what they do best to a smattering of applause after the first song.  It did not take long for me to figure out that I was the only one there that could give a fuck about motorcycles and was only there for the Punk Rock.  I don't know what the crowd reaction was behind me because I didn't want to miss a second of the band but I wish I had turned around to see if people were slowly backing away or treating the band with the easier option of indifference.

     The fears I had about shit hitting fans and whatnot were quickly allayed by the immense apathy that the crowd was able to muster.  That was disappointing but to hell with it, I had a blast.  Killer Of Sheep has been one of my favorite bands of late so I will drag my carcass to see them play every chance I get.

     Due to the heat and standing on a freshly paved parking lot for about an hour, I bailed as soon as they were done.  Water and food were suddenly becoming an issue but not so much of an issue to prevent me from stopping by The Attic record store in Millvale.  I picked up the reissue of Wire's Pink Flag on vinyl.  The mastering on the CD version with the bonus tracks made me curious to hear how the vinyl pressing came out.  Wow, my turntable has never been so happy.  I also picked up Alan Vega's final album IT on orange vinyl and Third Eye from Redd Kross.  Third Eye was supposed to be a Record Store Day release but wasn't in the store back in April, I guess they got it late.

     After lunch and a nap, it was back to Route 28 for Swedish, stoner metal mad men, Monolord, at the upstairs room of Mr. Smalls, known as the Funhouse.  The first order of business upon entering the venue was to order up a black bean burger from the kitchen.  The second order of business was avoiding the people that were attending the Fleetwood Mac cover band show on the first floor.

     Very inebriated and very loud, old white people were staggering around all over the place looking for bathrooms and more booze.  For some reason, they kept trying to wander into the Monolord show while the opening acts were playing.  The poor doorman had to keep reminding these entitled, drunk assholes that they only bought a ticket for the downstairs show and had to stay there.

     The thing that I can't figure out is how a stoner metal show would be appealing to these yuppies unless they just didn't want their night out to end and as long as the booze was still flowing they didn't much care what was happening around them.  They pretty much ruined the opening acts for me with their constant yelling over the bands to hold their conversations about who gives a shit what.  And then there was their bumping into everyone and everything around them.  Luckily, by the time Monolord went on a spot toward the front of the stage opened up and I was front and center for the face melting that they were about to deliver.

     As uncomfortably jam packed as the venue was, I was glad to see so many people showed up.  The crowd wasn't the usual old burn outs that I normally see at metal shows.  There was a larger than expected contingent of youths that turned out to see Monolord put a hurting on their hearing.

     Guitar player/singer, Thomas Jager, only plays with one pickup on his guitar in order to get the sound that he wants.  In the open space, under the strings where the second pickup should be, he has a Yoda Lego figure glued in its place.  Because of such a simple thing, Monolord will forever be one of my favorite bands.  Oh, and the sound ass kicking they gave everyone in attendance, there's that too.

     Monolord played for about an hour and it was a transcendent blur from beginning to end.  There was a flurry of activity on the stage the whole time unlike some stoner bands that stand stationary when they play.  The only song I am certain they played was “Empress Rising” and that's because it closed out the set.  They are such a solid band.  I know Rust came out about a year ago but I can't wait to see what they do next.  After finally having a chance to see them play live, I can definitely say that Monolord is on the same level with bands such as Sleep and Boris when it comes to sludgy goodness.  Their records are great but holy shit can they put on a show.

I Went To The Four Chord Music Festival And All I Got Was This Pile Of Waffles

     The Four Chord Music Festival was on Sunday, August 26^th.  It was a long and weird day and the weirdness started as soon as I got into the neighborhood where the club is located.

     Early entry for the festival began at 10am but I was planning on dragging my feet to get down there much later.  That is until there was a social media post stating that there would be a waffle bar involved with the early entry festivities.  The plan changed from heading down later to leaving immediately to make an attempt at eating an amount of waffles that equaled the cost of my ticket.

     The club is located in the Strip District and is in the same spot that used to house Metropol/Rosebud.  I would mention the current name of the facility but it's so stupid that I can't bring myself to type it for fear of my brain leaking out of my ear.

     The club had gone through some structural changes since the last time I was in the building. Somehow the shitty sight lines and $4.00 water were still intact.  I guess some things will never change.

     On my way to the Strip District, I encountered a large mass of people riding bicycles.  They all seemed to have numbers pinned to their shirts that said “Bike PGH.”  For some reason, a city that has an overabundance of hills and poorly designed traffic flow has decided to plaster bike lanes all over the place as if we were Portland.  Regardless of how people feel about the presence of these bike lanes, it would be helpful if those who ride bikes in the city would actually use the bike lanes.   These assholes took up the entire two lanes of a street instead of using the bike lane that was ten feet to their left.  The really strange thing was how none of these bike riders noticed a person yelling from their car, “Hey, shitheads, use the bike lane!!!  There are waffles that need to be eaten!!!”  I guess they were pedaling too loudly.

     After more waffles than I care to admit were jammed down my gullet, the Four Chord Music Festival was officially under way.   I should have my head examined for buying a ticket to a festival where the lineup features only one band that I was familiar with.   I had heard of Bayside and Less Than Jake but I had never crossed paths with them.  Other than Anti-Flag, I had no idea what I was getting into but at least I had a belly full of waffles and coffee to get me through it.

     Three bands into the day and I had come to the conclusion that the festival should be renamed “Whiny White Boy Fest.”  Lyrically, it was a lot of “I kinda like this girl/I wonder if she kinda likes me/Oh wait, now she's gone.”   And whatever the vocal equivalent to a shoulder shrug would be.

     Throughout the course of the day, the bands started blending together to the point where they all sounded the same.  The different configuration of man buns, facial hair and trucker hats were the only clues that helped me to notice that I wasn't hearing the same two bands on both stages.

     By 2pm I felt as if I had made a horrible mistake and should have gone home until 5:30 when the club cut off reentry to the venue.  By 4pm a band hit stage that was so disingenuous with their approach that it sent me running outside to the Blue Sparrow food truck that pulled up for the event.

     Bibimbap with tofu caught my eye on their menu and I was greatly rewarded for my choice.  And the guys working in the truck almost fell over when I ordered it because I actually pronounced Bibimbap correctly.  I've been imagining the butchered attempts that yinzers throw at them.   So far my favorite is “Bibby Bap.”

     I thought I had killed enough time at the food truck for the band that chased me outside to be done but I was incorrect in that assumption.  They played for another ten minutes before they left stage.

     There was so much room left open for one of the younger bands to take the festival by the throat but the majority of them didn't seem willing or able to do so.  Nowadays, it seems that instead of forming jam bands, like everyone used to do, they've all started Emo bands.

     It was a day full of dual harmonies that were slightly off and drummers that were seemingly lost in their own drum kits.  There was a large lack of savagery and precision but a whole lot of posing and mugging for the audience.  There was also a large lack of women and color on stage.

     I knew I was out of my element when the crowd started singing along to Blink-182 when one of their songs came on over the PA.  Next year, if I'm up for some sort of bullshit endurance test to see how much I can put up with, maybe Skullfest would be a better fit for me.

     The biggest let down of the night was the PA company not knowing how their PA worked when it came to handling the top three bands on the bill.  Less Than Jake, Bayside and Anti-Flag are all headliners and run pretty tight operations that are self-contained.  There was a massive delay before Anti-Flag's set due to the fact that the folks running the PA couldn't figure out how to patch over the band's set up to the monitors and the PA at the same time.

     This left no time for an actual soundcheck so the mix was done on the fly.  Anti-Flag muscled through it and turned in their usual great set.  This was their first hometown show since the murder of Antwon Rose so “Fuck Police Brutality” had quite a bit of extra emphasis to it from both the band and the crowd.  They finished their set with Pat playing drums in the middle of the pit and Chris #2 standing on top of his kick drum belting out the end of "Brandenburg Gate."  As many times as I've seen that bit it never gets old and made the day out of the house completely worth it.

     I was planning on bailing after Anti-Flag due to the length of the day and my desire for quiet and sleep but as I was walking past the loading dock, I noticed the band loading out from the stage, through the stage door and directly onto the sidewalk.  I said what I thought were my hellos and goodbyes but ended up lending a hand to get their gear off of the sidewalk and into the trailer.  I forgot how much I hated moving bass amps and was given a very blunt reminder especially since all of their equipment is packed in road cases.  Back in my day, all of the bands I worked for were small time and we just jammed everything into the back of the van and hoped for the best.

     After load out, I caught the end of Bayside and hung around for Less Than Jake before calling it a night.  Punk with a horn section was never my thing but Less Than Jake sure was entertaining.  The toilet paper guns were a nice touch.

     I have learned my lesson in all of this and will certainly think twice before I buy a ticket for an all day festival even if there is a mountain of waffles, a food truck and Anti-Flag involved.  I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to drop myself into a situation that I knew I no longer had a tolerance for for no other reason than to see if I could write something about it.  Hopefully it was worth reading.

Fuck It!!! We'll Do It Live!!!

     Those are the only words uttered by Bill O'Reilly that I could ever agree with.  The live album, when done correctly, can be one of those releases that cement a band's legacy or can document an artist at a specific point on their chosen path.

     Here's a list, in no particular order, of live albums that I always find myself coming back to.  Due to the nefarious nature of bootlegs, I have excluded them from the list.  Given the amount of gambling involved with sound quality from the initial recording down to the pressing of the record, as much as I have an appreciation for a good Misfits bootleg, I wouldn't want to point someone in a direction that wouldn't be rewarding for their ears.

     The live album should serve almost as a mix tape that documents a band at a certain point in time in their history.  Whether it's the cohesion of a band when they are firing on all cylinders after a few albums and several miles down the road or the band sounds like they are flying apart in different creative directions, also after a few albums and several miles down the road, the live album is a snapshot of where they were there and then at that point in time.

James Brown—Revolution Of The Mind: Live At The Apollo Vol. III

     Revolution Of The Mind was recorded over three nights in July of 1971 at the Apollo Theater in Harlem.  These shows featured the JBs line up that had two drummers.  Jabo Starks and John Morgan were both holding it down while trying to find room for each other to play.  This record is not for the James Brown fan whose only exposure to the man's work was his appearance in Rocky IV.  The JBs were in the business of bringing the serious funk and they done brought it on those nights for The Hardest Working Man In Show Business.

The Ramones—It's Alive

     Recorded at the Rainbow Theatre, in London, on New Year's Eve 1977, It's Alive, shows the Ramones at the height of their powers.  The album was recorded after the release of Ramones, Leave Home and Rocket To Russia so it has a mind numbing amount of their best songs on it.  The band played at a break neck speed jamming twenty-eight songs into fifty-four minutes.  A few years back, the video footage of this performance was discovered, cleaned up and released on DVD.  The remastered audio was also pressed to vinyl and sounds infinitely better than the original release.  This is also the last time that Tommy Ramone can be heard on drums.  He moved to a producer role with the band and was replaced by Marky Ramone.

Iggy Pop—Post Pop Depression: Live At Royal Albert Hall

     Recorded in May of 2016, Live At Royal Albert Hall goes to show that Iggy Pop keeps getting better and better with age.  His backing band for this show included Josh Homme and other members of Queens Of The Stone Age as well as members of the Arctic Monkeys.  Homme assembled a band that was good enough to contain and challenge the hurricane that is Iggy Pop.  There were no Stooges songs in this set.  It was mostly Iggy's early solo material from his time working with David Bowie and songs from Post Pop Depression.  As many times as I have listened to The Idiot, Lust For Life and other Iggy live records I had never heard those songs hit so hard.  Hearing the new songs in a live environment gave me a new appreciation for Post Pop Depression and immediately made it one of my favorite Iggy albums.  I was lucky enough to make it to Philadelphia to see one of the few shows that this lineup played together and it was one of the best shows I have ever seen.

     There was a 3LP Record Store Day release of this concert as well as DVD/Blu-Ray/CD combo packs for your digital needs.

Nirvana—Live At Reading

     Recorded during the band's performance at the UKs Reading Festival on August 20^th, 1992, bits and pieces of this show ended up on the Live, Tonight, Sold Out video that stitched together live footage from various Nirvana shows.  After having burned out on their music due to over exposure in my youth, I had not listened to Nirvana for quite a few years.  Live At Reading was the release that renewed my appreciation for the band.  The emotional baggage that I was carrying around with this band had lost its weight and I was able to hear Nirvana for what they really were.  They were just a really good band.

OFF!—Live At The 9:30 Club

     Back in 2011, Dinosaur Jr. played at the 9:30 Club on a tour where they were playing their album Bug in its entirety.  OFF!, featuring Keith Morris of Black Flag and Circle Jerks fame, was the opening act.  Dinosaur Jr.'s set was being filmed and recorded so tape was rolled for OFF!'s set as well.

     This was shortly after the release of OFF!'s first recorded output, The First Four Eps, which I was having trouble getting my ears around.  I was lucky enough to be in the audience for this show and after the first two songs I completely understood what OFF! was about.  Keith Morris approached each song as if his dreads were on fire and, after the Circle Jerks fizzled out, he finally had a band that could keep up with him.

Anti-Flag—Live Vol. 1

     Taken from a series of shows recorded at the Troubadour, in Los Angeles, during Anti-Flag’s 20^th anniversary tour, the sound quality of Live Vol. 1 is far superior to any of the other live recordings that the band has released.  Since this was an anniversary tour, the band pulled songs from all over their catalogue.  As well played as the older songs on this record are, it was great to hear Anti-Flag tear into the more recent songs, at the time, from American Spring.  As many times as I have seen this band play they have never disappointed so it's beyond time for them to have a live album that reflects what they are capable of on a stage.  And rumor has it that Live Vol. 2 will be released in the near future so I will most certainly be in line for that one when it comes out.

https://anti-flag.bandcamp.com/album/live-vol-1

     Doing it live is where the rubber meets the road with music and where a band shows what they are made of.  So always remember, "Fuck it!!!  We'll do it live!!!"