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On the Cover: Sean O’Loughlin almost didn’t get the cover for a second time. The first time was when we did his little interview back in issue #9, and his cover shot got axed in favor of a photo of Rodent skating a pool. Then this time, Lee was ready to ban him on the grounds that Sean didn’t let him skate at the skatecamp the time that he came by. What a dick Sean is. He’s lucky we didn’t have too many other cover contender shots, otherwise he probably would have got cut for sure. So Sean got his cover, but we had to heckle him a little bit too. Balls out, head high stiffy over the channel at the new Ripon park. photo: davoud This page: Sometimes mistakes make the best photos. Jonathan accidentally doubleexposed a roll of his Baja photos, and got some pretty crazy pool party double exposures. Here Royce goes over the loveseat backside, as a bull grazes on a stoney beach. Beautiful. photo: hay
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Editorial Rant DOT GONE When most people talk about the Internet and Silicon Valley, they usually speak about their positive aspects; how computers are revolutionizing peoples’ lives and how people involved in the manufacturing of computers and internet technologies are getting rich, rich, rich! California has had many waves of settlers over the years, and despite the overwhelmingly positive success stories, this latest “internet gold rush” which swept the Bay Area over the last five years has had a truly negative impact on many of the inhabitants. All of the people moving here to jump onto the computer industry bandwagon have clogged our roads to capacity and driven the housing market up so high, that only Controllers and Assistant VPs of Marketing can afford to even consider overbidding on them. For a time, a lot of my friends and acquaintances were working at internet startups or internet related companies. In most cases, these people were relatively skilled, but getting paid lots of money to do not necessarily a lot of work, and it seemed like a great scam. As long as their bosses could keep the investors in the dark but still manage to secure another round of funding, the employees got fat salaries, lots of stock options, and everybody was happy. While computer and internet related salaries were quite generous, minimum wage did not increase, nor did anyone else’s salaries in non-computer related fields. But the cost of housing soared, rent skyrocketed, and soon two bedroom houses in shitty neighborhoods were renting for $2000 a month. People that had trouble making ends meet in 1992 had been evicted by 1998. Yet the boom went on. Internet companies who were willing to pay three times the going rent easily made deals with landlords and booted many people out of the once affordable live/work warehouses of San Francisco. The internet craze even spread to the skateboard/surf/snow world. New media content providers such as Bluetorch and Hardcloud sprung up, and lured many a writer or photographer 8
to burn their bridges and dump their secure print media jobs for the promises of dot com riches. But it couldn’t last, and it didn’t. As I write this, the Nasdaq is in the toilet. Legitimate hi-technology companies are crossing their fingers and tightening their beltstraps as they watch their competitors go belly up. Dot com yuppies who received pink slips are packing up their shiny, new VB Beetles and hauling their dot gone asses back to Indiana or wherever the fuck they’re from. And good riddance to every single one of you. Over the past ten years, the Bay Area has become something not unlike Los Angeles North. Money talks and bullshit talks even louder. No regard was given to open space as once sleepy cities such as Milpitas and Fremont watched their tax coffers grow fat as they handed out building permits for industrial parks, tract homes, and strip malls. None of that can be undone, but it does not bring much sorrow to see the dot com yuppies leave town, which will hopefully drive the cost of living back down to a semi-reasonable level, if nothing else. Despite this roller coaster-like internet market, we at Concussion are unaffected by the turmoil. See, if you have nothing to lose, no overhead (as they say in business school), then you truly have nothing to lose. There’s nobody to fire because nobody was getting paid in the first place. There’s no secretary, webmaster, network administrator, or shipping department. Our photographers are often excited when we tell them their work is pro bono, but that’s because they don’t know what that means. Just kidding, guys. So the moral of this editorial rant is twofold: Out of town capitalist piece of shit yuppies ruined the Bay Area, and Concussion has a very low overhead. We hope you enjoy the issue. - The Editors
concussion Staff Senior editors jonathan hay davoud kermaninejad -art editorLee Charron -PhotographersBruce Rodela, Jason Murray, Patrick Trefz, dave nelson,Terry Roland, clinton Perry, joel chavez -Contributing PhotographersBrian lilla, matt moose, nate lawrence, reggie decker, jeff ault, I.J. Valenzuela, andrew paynter -video goondave amell -Writerssick boy matt sharkey clinton perry sam cunningham salba tony farmer Eric Bigler mickey stamm natalie tyler joel hickok Frank Gilbert -ArtistsLee Eschliman JEREmey Fish derek egy Orr mike fisher arthur carvaho Tim McCaffrey brian reed
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CONCUSSION MAGAZINE IS COPYRIGHT © 2001 BY CONCUSSION PRODUCTIONS. NOTHING FROM THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE USED IN WHOLE OR PART WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE PUBLISHERS OR COPYRIGHT OWNERS. CONCUSSION AND THE CONCUSSION SKULL LOGO ARE TRADEMARKS OF CONCUSSION MAGAZINE DISTRIBUTED BY DESERT MOON PERIODICALS, SANTA FE, NM. - WWW.DESERTMOON.COM WEBSITE: WWW.CONCUSSION.ORG - SEND ALL CORRESPONDENCE TO PO BOX 1024 SANTA CRUZ CA 95061-1024 OR EMAIL CONCUSSION@CONCUSSION.ORG. - DOMESTIC SUBSCRIPTIONS ARE $15 PER YEAR UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED, AND INTERNATIONAL SUBSCRIPTIONS ARE ALWAYS $35. SINGLE ISSUES CAN BE ORDERED THROUGH THE MAIL FOR $5 IN THE CONTINENTAL U.S. OR $10 ELSEWHERE. FOR ADVERTISING RATES, PLEASE CALL 510-236-3922 OR 831-471-0501 OR VISIT OUR WEB PAGE AT WWW.CONCUSSION.ORG FOR MORE INFORMATION. ANY SIMILARITIES BETWEEN FICTITIOUS PERSONS MENTIONED IN THIS MAGAZINE AND REAL PERSONS LIVING OR DEAD IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.
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Subscribe to Concussion for $15 a year. Throw in an extra $5 and we’ll send you a shirt. Send in your checks, money orders, and well concealed cash (at your own risk) to: Concussion Magazine PO Box 1024 Santa Cruz, CA 95061-1024 If ordering shirt please specify size (M, L, XL) Address changes must be sent in writing to the address above. Canadian subscriptions are $25, and elsewhere in the world is $35 Make checks payable to “Concussion Magazine” in U.S. funds. Check concussion.org for more subscription information and whatnot.
ne WS , G O S S I P, a nd he R e s y Flakin’ out again Hello dear reader, and welcome to the spring 2001 issue of Concussion. This issue we had a number of projects which were set to go, but did not make the leap from conceptualization to reality in time for the deadline. Noteworthy articles for you not to look for in this issue include a ten page flip book of sequences, an Alan Petersen interview, a High on Fire interview, or a Mark Gonzales interview. All of those things would have been really cool, but the flip book was pretty complicated and took up too many pages, Matt Pike from High on Fire is impossible to get a hold of, the AP interview was never done and we didn’t have too many photos, and no one will give Lee the Gonz’s phone number. Bye-bye Consolidated Ramp Nothing lasts forever, especially indoor vert ramps, and this one was coming sooner or later. And so one asks the question, was there any coincidence between Jason Jesse’s quitting Consolidated and the decision to dismantle the Consolidated vert ramp? Gee, I wonder... But no one’s really too sad about it though, because most of the vert dudes are always skating at Vans anyway. And now there is a sweet street course out front of Consolidated, complete with a 4’ quarter pipe that goes to vert, Neil Blender style. And this guy who has a mini ramp on the corner of Bay and Mission got to re-ply his ramp and now it is better than ever. Go skate it, and tell him the guys from Concussion sent you. He’ll be stoked! Product Review Section We almost had a product review section this issue, but there wasn’t too much good stuff to review. However, it must be noted that the good people at Indy marketing have been coming out with all kinds of crazy products all bearing the Indy logo. Lee Charron was recently seen sipping from a high class whiskey flask that bore the Iron Cross logo. And with Joey Tershay being the huge stoner that he is, the Indy rolling papers really come as no surprise, although they do go great with Spitfire matches.
spent lots of money digging. Then they have to fill in the holes, level the surface, and build some quarter pipes or something. Lame, but typical Berkeley. In positive skatepark news, Ripon is sick, and they haven’t even installed the supposed in-ground kidney yet. Did the quality of the skatepark have anything to do with who did or did not design and build it? Does it actually matter that skatepark designers skate the stuff they build? Hell yes it does. The rumors of a skatepark in Grass Valley have been going on for some time, but they appeared to have been true. Word has come in of a 6-7 foot high bowled struc-
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Video Premieres and Art Parties In the exciting world of video premiere news, most of you will have missed two video premieres. The new REAL video premiered at Slim’s in San Francisco on April 6, but Thiebaud wouldn’t give me a promo copy of the video so we can’t tell you how it was, because the premiere has not happened yet. The long anticipated Concussion Magazine video, “Amnesia” premiered to a select group at Lemmy’s Ramp in Oakland, formerly known As Wiggy’s or Andy’s Ramp. Everybody loved it, or everybody hated it, I can’t remember. Concussion will also be doing an art slash photo show at the Juice Gallery in San Francisco if we can ever get our shit together to show the guys samples of what we want to put up. And if you’ve ever been to one of the Juice premieres, you know they’re pretty fun. Tattoo You
ture in the woods, which will no doubt become home to the Chris Senn Show, if it has not already. Check the photo, it looks pretty good. Better than the Auburn park at least, which sounded like it kind of sucked. Random Shit Talking In the random shit talking section, Jonathan’s new housemate is a full derelict, and is way worse than Tranny Will, who even wants to kick him out.
Skatepark news In skatepark news, we are saddened to report that the continual bullshit going on with the Berkeley skatepark has resulted in the cancellation of their proposed inground combi pool and all kinds of other good stuff. The story involves something about contaminated dirt and the fact that they can’t build below ground, so they have to fill in all the big holes they had
What recent Concussion cover-boy was overheard saying, “That cover shot is gonna get me laid.” and was that in fact a true statement? First one in with the correct answer will win some free shit.
So you want to be a gangster? Red is the new popular color to wear in Santa Cruz. If you've always wanted to pretend you belong to a gang, and you think you're pretty hard, throw on some bright red and you'll at least look like you’re down on the Westside, even if you’re just a lowly Slug. Eastsiders are rumored to still be arguing over their colors.
Some one finally went off and got a Concussion tattoo, and it turned out to be our very own Lee Charron. I guess we can’t quit doing the magazine now. Or do we just fire Lee and tell him he should give more consideration to what he chooses to get inked on his body? Ha, ha, just kidding Lee. But seriously, if there are any others of you who dare to get the Concussion skull tattooed on your body, send us a photo of it and we’ll give you a free lifetime subscription for the life of our magazine or the duration of yours. What else? I dunno. That’s why these rumor gossip columns are stupid, because there’s never enough interesting shit to write about and you end up talking about who got kicked off what company or some other crap.
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L ett ettE R S send your rants, ravings, and really stupid ideas to: Concussion PO Box 1024 Santa Cruz CA 95061-1024 or better yet email concussion@ concussion.org and then we don’t have to type it. typing letters sucks. hey my name is Matt Slaughter you might of heard of me if you havent I was going down a half pipe and hit a screw and fell broke my wrist and jaw busted open my chin and had to have 5 stiches and when i fell and hit the ground i was unconcince for an hour and when i was out a group of people were kicking me because they thought i was faking it our i was a slep when they were kicking the crap out of me they broke 2 of my ribs and will you put my site on your link page? Dear Concussion, I am writing to express my disgust at your printing of pornography in your magazine. I am cancelling my subscription and expect a full refund shortly. That Foundation ad was disgusting, and I subscribed to your magazine to see skateboarding and stuff, not tits. Your center spread wasn’t much better. Save that shit for Big Brother. You guys used to be cool, but now you just suck. - Brian Decker Concussion, I’m writing this because I’m fed up with that goddamn Milpitas Van’s park. Every time I go there I say this is it, I’m never coming back, but this time’s for real. The place SUCKS! What’s wrong with it? I’ll tell ya. Every fucking kook with money that is shunned from all the good spots, like Steve Bacon, can put some flints in their trucks and skate there. So you show up and you’re forced to skate with all these lame asses. Half the time the sessions are GAY. And all the terrain there SUCKS. The pool has no vert in the deep end, the middle section is basically a bank with coping, and the shallow end is useless. The washboard is a waste of concrete. I skated the Winchester washboard, and this Vans version does not even come close, believe me. The Mickey Mouse bowl is just that, an unfunctional pile of crap. The mini ramp is slippery, and the coping is so fucking damaged by BMXers that you’ll be lucky if you can get a two foot long 50-50. The street course, who fucking cares? A bunch of plywood banks, boring! All this plus you’re surrounded by huge Van’s advertisements, every little rich Silicon Valley kid in the neighborhood, and just general gayness. I mean, it’s in a
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fucking MALL! Snowboard rock continually pumps through the speakers. Take off an elbow pad and some hag gets on the PA telling you to put it back on. If this is the future of skateboarding, they can have it. I’ll go look for more backyard pools. Thanks, - A Grumpy Old Man ps. your magazine rules! Keep up the great work. What’s up Guys? My name’s Brandon Fisher and I’m the owner of BrandonFisher.com (amazing eh?)... Anyway, BrandonFisher.com, which started as kind of an on-line community for myself and my friends, has grown into a full-blown internet community (receiving about 12,000 page views a month) with a very diverse set of topics that get discussed via BrandonFisher.com message boards, polls, and other ways. The reason I am writing is because I stumbled upon your cock-blocker page and I think I have an idea that could be cool for both of us. I have a cock-blocker message board where people post stories and other ramblings about cock-blocking. The idea is a link exchange where you could add a link that appears like you have the cockblocker message board on your site, and I could add a link from my site, to your site, in my cockblocker message board description. Well, that’s all. Let me know if you’re interested, or have any questions. I think we could generate a lot of cross-site traffic. -Fish Editors, Youre magazine rules. Keep it up. Me and my friends want to see more tits and stuff, like in that Foundation ad in Issue 10!! Now that Big Brother won’t print that kind of stuff anymore, its up to you guys to pick up their slack. Don’t force me to go to the internet or 7-11 for my porn, I want it in skate mags, cuz thats where that shit belongs. Crooked grinds and big tits all the way, yo! - Ted Darby ps. i have some rad photos i took of my friend’s girlfriend with a shorty’s sticker on her tits. email me back if you want me to send it in.
Hello Concussion, Skateboarding on Ice. When is the board sport community going to take the sport to the next level? My name is Kelly Clements; I am the inventor of the only Iceboard design that truly works. As you may know, people have been trying to make at fully maneuverable Iceboard design for around fifty years. All had failed. I got it right. Ten years ago my Iceboard was prototyped, thoroughly tested by the good people at Thasher® magazine, (Kevin J Thatcher, Jake Phelps, Brice Knight and some skateboarders they brought with them) and very well received by the skateboarding community here in the San Francisco area. Unfortunately I ran out of money trying to finance everything on my own and could not find an investor at the time to proceed with the project. I believe the time is now ripe to try again and I’m asking for your help to get the word out. I would like to see the Iceboard take its rightful place in the next winter X games. Sincerely Kelly Clements Inventor of the Iceboard Hi my name is Aaron Krauth and i've been skateboarding for 2 years now and I think it's time to get a sponser. My tricks are: double kickflip, 360 flip, 180 ollie, fakie ollie to nose manual or manual, ollie to nose manual or manual, 50-50, boardslides, tail slides, nose slides, and my invented trick: reverse maddona tailslide. I'll send a video if I have to. Thanx Aaron Krauth
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PHOTO: OLSEN
New Bones Wainwright - 54mm • 101a
30 South La Patera Lane, Santa Barbara, CA, 93117 • (805) 964-1330
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When Dave Amell isn’t busy over in San Francisco at law school writing crap like this, he enjoys getting his car broken into or towed, hurting his knee skateboarding, and leaving his video camera on when he thinks it’s not recording.
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The headline of this article says it all. These days, Healdsburg simply fuckin’ sucks, straight up. It was a relatively decent park to start out with (for our sorry California standards at least), but what really ruined it was the police. The park is fenced in all the way around, and they would speed into the parking lot and get out of their car, ticket book in hand, looking for anyone not wearing full pads. Now, when I mean full pads, we’re not just talking a helmet and an elbow pad, and if you’re wearing pants then you can get away with no kneepads. If you aren’t wearing a helmet, kneepads, and BOTH elbow pads, then you’re fair game to get popped. And boy, they’ve been making a killing lately. The city has generated so much revenue from citing all the skaters that come through town, some of the police have abandoned their tried and true speed traps to lurk by the skatepark and bust people on the hour, every hour. On a recent three hour visit there, we were witness to three different cops coming at least every hour, if not more frequently. Every time they pulled up and singled out a few people (even kids) to yell at and subsequently cite. It was really out of hand. On their last run-through (before we’d had enough and bailed) the pig told this one local kid that he was going to get a pads ticket, and to “come over here.” Well the kid, realizing that his session was over for the day, told the cop to “fuck off”, and took one more run around the park. The cop was certainly not going to stand for that kind of flagrant disrespect for authority, so when the kid got back within his general vicinity, he grabbed him and cuffed and stuffed him. Just like that, off to jail. How lame is that? Now of course we all know that you’re asking for it when you tell a cop to fuck off, but there would have been no trouble if the cops weren’t such dicks then there would be no problem. Anyway, Healdsburg sucks. - Words and photos by Davoud
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Photographers, by their nature, are good at taking photos. What talent they possess in photography skills they make up by lacking writing skills. Just look at any article written in Big Brother by that Dimitry guy - his writing is the worst! Anyhow, Clinton gave us all these photos of his friend, Jay Moody, and proposed that we run an interview with him. Now I’m not one for interviews in general, usually the questions are boring, the same questions as every other interview, the interviewee has nothing to say, or all of the above. Rarely do I find interviews interesting, but since last issue’s Jackson Taylor seemed to go over relatively well, we thought we’d try it again. To make a long story short, Clinton, the photographer, ended up doing the interview. He wrote some questions on a piece of paper and Jay answered them. I didn’t bother to read the piece of paper until the Sunday of deadline weekend, when I realized that this interview sucked. Nothing personal, but it was total crap. The photos were sick, but the words were boring and did not do justice next to them. So in a decisive editorial maneuver, we axed the interview. Sorry Clinton, you’re not the first to have this happen, we did it to Bruce a while ago too. So anyhow, there is no Jay Moody interview. It has now become a Jay Moody spotlight, where we will showcase his extremely talented skateboarding and I, with my limited knowledge of Jay Moody, will attempt to tell you a few facts about him. Jay was born and grew up in Hawaii. He came from a military family, and ended up moving around a bit. He ended up in North Carolina, which is where he met Clinton Perry, as well as his good friend Jackson Taylor. North Carolina has a crazy skate scene full of rippers. I see Jay and Jackson skating a lot together. They both used to show up to Alameda and destroy the place, getting each other more pumped by doing sicker tricks. Jay skates like a ninja, and has crazy long hair that is definitely part of his smooth, cat-like style. One time I saw Jay pretty much do the best trick at a Skateworks demo. It was like a backside 180 kickflip over a car or something ridiculous. Pretty much every time I see that guy he is killing it. He likes to skate cement parks and rules skating mini ramps. So look at the photos and check Jay Moody out, because he rips. 34
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Previous page: Full Page: Jay pops off a skinny wall during the St. Patrick’s Day parade. Big backside grab at this crazy mini ramp back in NC. Frontside lipslide down a handrail, inches away from breaking the fisheye. Burly 50-50 on a rail at one of Jay’s favorite new spots in the city.
This page: Left: SF roof drop ollie. Right: Head high kickflip 180 backside grabber on the twinkie at Alameda; probably one of the sickest stunts performed there. Below: Huge ollie grab at Half Moon Bay
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Bell Gardens is located about 20 minutes North of Long Beach, not too far from Compton. LA isn’t about Hollywood or Beverly Hills, it’s about the hundreds of suburbs that make up the megatropolis that is growing like a cancer and someday will connect all the way across California. Bell Gardens is immersed right smack dab in the middle of this megatropolis known as Los Angeles. The park isn’t really called Bell Gardens. It’s named after Jerry or something, the Mayor’s retarded son who doesn’t even skate. That’s what this local kid Felix told me. Bell Gardens has many dynamics working for and against it. The pad attendant was a total kook. He thought he was some Rent-aPig or something. After I skated and then took photos, he told me I couldn’t take any photos because kids were complaining
about the flash. Yeah right. He was just power tripping. And then when I started skating again, he made me stop because I didn’t have elbow pads or knee pads. The kids at Bell Gardens were crazy, unlike anywhere I’ve been before. I was surrounded by about 12 Mexican kids, 1/2 skaters and 1/2 rollerbladers. They asked me 100 questions about who I was taking photos of, and for what magazine. After every photo I took, they asked if it was going to go in the magazine. I even had to autograph two Concussion Magazines that I’d given to the kids. They said their friends wouldn’t believe them otherwise. Weird stuff. Anyway, back to the park review. The park was pretty fun. Highlights were a 4 foot high rounded hip with coping that went
around to a bowled corner on both sides and you could air over it pretty easily. I could even bust early grabs over the coping and pull them, so instantly I liked the park. To me, a park is fun if you can rip it. There was a 6 foot quarter pipe with an escalator which was pretty good, a 4 foot bowl with a hip that was too shallow and had too mellow of transitions and there were a couple of your standard pyramids, boxes and ledges with coping. There were too many kids sitting in the way, totally shutting down portions of the park. Overall, I had a fun time and walked away with a nice swellbow from bailing a high speed drop in to the kinked out roll in area. Splat. Two skulls. - J. Hay Remember a topless bar called Bell-E-Buttons just off of I-94 south of Milwaukee in a town called Greenfield? How about a skatepark called the Turf? Well, they were one and the same. The Turf closed in the mid-’90s, but for a long time that was one of few concrete options for Midwesterners. It was rippin’, too. First of all, the vert was indoors and year-round. This might not seem like an advantage to Left-Coasters, but for those of us who live in the frigid seasonal confines of the upper Midwest, it’s a blessing. Anyway, the Turf was built in the ‘70s, which might explain why the Keyhole and the Capsule had enormous transitions, at least two feet of vert and no flat-bottom. There was also a snake run called the Footie Bowl, which sort of looked like a miniature version of Derby Park. It also had a Clover-leaf bowl, which is exactly what it sounds like, and something called the Lip-Slide Gully which, if memory serves, was a kidney bowl. All the concrete was inside, but they did let kids set up some PVC and a few boxes outside. I think somebody even built- (dare I say it?) - twin launch ramps for side-by-side competition. Those were the days... At some point the owner decided that he could make more money and save on liability by covering the bowls
were formed into certain parts of the concrete. Why did they do that? It’s a little baffling. On the west side of the park there are two bowls separated by a small hip. Both are about five to six feet deep and adjacent to a kidney bowl which has a three-foot transition on one end and drops to about seven feet at the other end. The center of the flat features an octagonal box that you can hit from any of the banks that surround it. Design contributors for Burnham included Reggie Destin, Steve Dread (Uprise), Jesse Nauhaus and Uriah Ruta (Uprise). Construction finished in Fall of 2000 and the park opened on October 14. From opening day to the end of the season, the
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park has been pretty packed. Most of the kids like the design and appreciate the fact that skaters were consulted in the planning stages, but reaction to the quality of the construction and the pour has been varied. “The city didn’t want to use Shockrete, that’s why there’s sagging and some of the lips stick out,” says Daniel Hernandez. “But really, the only thing that’ll stop you is the wintertime. It just takes a while to learn the lines. After you get used to it, it’s rippin’.” Hopefully, wintertime in Chicago will take a minimal toll on Burnham Park. If ice cracks the concrete, who knows? The city might have to cover the bowls and open up a public, municipal topless bar. Two skulls - F.H.G.
over and opening a house of dancing naked ladies. The Turf reopened in the ‘80s and this time - understandably - there were all sorts of waivers to sign and pads to wear if you wanted to skate. Copers and lappers were mandatory; if you didn’t have resin on your trucks, you didn’t get to ride. Suffice it to say, back in the ‘80s, there were very few concrete parks anywhere near Chicago. Come to think of it there was a real lack of vert in general save for a few halfpipes around; Jesse Nauhaus had one under the El tracks on the North Side and Hank Headd had a 12-foot ramp in Evanston. Times and public attitudes have changed. The City of Chicago and many of the suburbs have built municipal parks, some with pretty satisfactory results. There are even a few concrete parks scattered around, most notably Chicago’s Burnham Skatepark located on Chicago’s beautiful South Side lakefront at 31st Street and Lake Shore Dr. Burnham offers handrails, ledges, lots of gaps and benches, all with plenty of space in between. Some have complained that there might even be too much space, judging by the fact that on a crowded day most skateable lines form a large figure-8 that covers the whole park except for the bowls. You have to get a huge amount of speed. Some of this can be attributed to the directional grooves that
too small and funky. There is also a flat bank and a rounded off fun box which are relatively fun, especially if you’ve never skated a real skatepark. If one was able to skate the whole place without interference from roller-goons or kooky flyout method air skaters, you would discover that the place flows well and there are a variety of lines to put together. However, that is usually not the case and you’ll quickly be confronted with the option of blindsiding clueless, unaware children, or hurting yourself trying not to hit them, which is a lose-lose situation in my book.
The suburban town of Livermore, CA has joined that ranks of cities which have decided to build skateparks in the hopes of keeping skateboarders off their streets. Wahoo. The Livermore park is good, but only when compared to the lousy parks in the immediate vicinity such as Dublin and San Ramon. Those parks are such hunks of crap and have such terrible lines that anything which is half decent is a welcome addition. And Livermore is indeed half decent. It looks a lot like the Truckee park, and has a similar flow and design, but is nowhere nearly as large or fun as Truckee. As usual, everything is capped off at no more than 5’ - or in this case there is only one halfpipe/bowl thing which is 5’ and everything else is smaller. There are two mickey mouse-ish bowls on one end which look good but when skated are found to be
It is no surprise that they built the skatepark right next to the police station, which means the cops can keep a watchful eye for hooligans and miscreants while not having to abandon the box of donuts in their squad car. All in all, another mediocre park built by a mediocre designer who followed the State guidelines (guidelines are not laws!) for keeping skateparks small and shitty. The Livermore park is worth checking out at least once, and if I lived in the area I would probably go skate it often, but the bottom line is that Livermore is half way to Ripon, which is a much better park and has a whole lot more to offer. Solid two.
Captions, clockwise from top left: These two kids asked me to take a photo of them doing fly-out transfers with one of them holding the board. It actually turned out to be one of the better photos I got that day. Dave McGee was going big with blasters over the hip into the little Mickey Mouse bowl. Jeff Reeves was so excited to skate the new SF park that he took a two hour lunch so he could do switch roll-ins in the deep end (not pictured) and high speed backside tailslides into the shallow end. All photos by Davoud.
The Crocker-Amazon “skatepark”, located on Geneva in San Francisco, is an interesting piece of work. It has bumpy pie-cut corners, kinked flat banks, a bizarre design, and offers virtually nothing to street skaters. Which is exactly why this park is fun - it is challenging and big enough to scare you. This “skatepark” actually resembles more of a ditch/pool sort of thing than a skatepark, but that’s fine with me. The deep end is 8’ with a foot of vert (vert!) and probably a 6’ tranny, which makes rolling in interesting and trying tricks challenging. It has three levels of varying heights all connected with flat spillway type banks and coping randomly installed (or not) throughout. The funniest thing is that they closed the park and redid parts of it (supposedly it didn’t pass stress tests?!?), but when we returned it looked and rode exactly the same. Idiots. Street skaters will tell you this place sucks, old pool and vert dogs will tell you it is killer. Figure out which category you fit into and check it, or not. Marginal three skulls.
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( So far )
Well it’s about time. About time that somebody finally built a public, outdoor cement skatepark in California that we can’t talk shit about. And it comes as little surprise that it took Tim Payne, Brian Ferdinand, and some surprisingly open minded city council members to get it done right. Otherwise we’d be writing another article on how they fucked it up again, how they wasted $250,000 on a cement play area suited for rollerbladers. But we’re not. This place rules. Congratulations goes out to the city of Ripon, CA (north of Modesto) who had the guts to step up and build a park that shunned the restrictive and unneeded skatepark guidelines and build something which is not only over five feet high, but actually has vert, and isn’t a hunk of shit. I still can’t believe it. So here’s the lowdown - not sure how many square feet this place is, but it’s a lot. It’s bigger than Ashland or Talent, and almost as much fun as Medford. The largest obstacle is a 9’ high, 40-something-foot wide quarter pipe that has bowled-off corners, a channel, and goes right to vert. This wall can be used to roll into the park for mass speed, or conversely, one can come hauling ass from the bottom of the park and blast big airs over the channel, kind of like Sean did on the cover of this issue. Behind the big quarter pipe is the soon-to-be-built street course, which will presumably house all of the school-kids so that they are safely out of our way. Below the big quarter pipe are two sets of pump-bump
hips, which at most skateparks would be the main attraction. Not here - they are only used to generate more speed and take you towards other hips, dips, and the Marseillelike bowled-off area at the bottom of the park. From there you have endless lines and can hit any of the hips, gaps, or spines which you come across. Sooner or later you’re bound to end up in the bowled-off section, where you may find yourself grinding over the spine, popping ollies on the teardrop hip, pumping high speed figure 8 carves, or if you’re Alan Petersen, blasting huge 360s over the 10’ gap from bowl to bowl. The coping is done relatively well, although if we were to get picky (which, of course, we are), I would say that it could have been a little bigger and stuck up a little more. And there could have been some vert extensions near the Marseille bowls. But that’s being picky. Other downers include the fact that the park is nestled between the Ripon Police Department and the soon to be built Ripon Crime Lab, so there are lots of piggy-wiggly’s oinking around. But fear not, they don’t seem to care (yet) about enforcing any silly pad rules, and the cops which have stopped by only seem interested in whether everyone is having a good time. Did I mention that there is a donut shop around the corner? So yeah, this place is SICK. There are so many speed lines that one might have to indulge in the local amphetamine of choice just to not run out of energy after 10 minutes. While it may not be a Medford, Lincoln City or Newburg, it is certainly a huge step up from the crappy, mediocre-atbest parks which have been rearing their ugly heads
Above: Brian Ferdinand had his own motivations for wanting this park to be kill. Hometown backside air. Facing page: AP wasted no time in getting down with each and every hip in Ripon. Huge indy.
around the Bay Area lately. In addition to the street course they plan to build, there is also an in-ground real swimming pool they plan on building, and they’re not even going to fill it with water!!! And besides, Ripon is a whole lot shorter of a drive than it is to southern Oregon. So there you go. Go check this place ASAP, or if you’re happy skating at Alameda, then by all means stay there because you probably wouldn’t even know what to do at Ripon. Special thanks go out to Brian Ferdinand who reportedly saved this place from being a hunk of shit, the city council for not telling Brian to go fuck himself, Tim Payne for designing the park, and all of the current and up and coming Modesto shredders for keeping it real when everybody else is double kickflipping to switch crooked grinds. Four skulls.
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Captions, clockwise from left: Jeff Farrantine is among the up and coming group of Modesto-area shredders which are already better than you and me, and can only keep improving. Tuck-knee frontside over the hip. While everyone else was busy trying to blast from that hip onto the flat bank, Karma busted a burly street ollie from the flat bank on to the tranny. So sick, so smooth. Fat Sean, big method air. No, wait. It’s Big Sean, fat method air. No wait, it’s Big Elmer, getting radical. Ryan Wilburn and Gary Collins double their pleasure with twin frontside airs over everyone’s favorite hip. While everyone else was busy figuring out their pussy-ass little lines at Ripon, Alan Peterson just imagined he was at Marsielle and hucked a big-ass backside 360 over one of, if not, the biggest gap in the park. Badass of the month. Matt Moose took this photo of a Modesto local frontside airing from the vert corner down into the mini-vert part, but forgot to tell me his name. In any case, you can’t even tell how sick that is without going there. Text and photos by Davoud Video sequences by Dave Amell
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Only in Modesto does it smell like meat from the tallow factories. Only in Modesto do white trash groms get dropped off by their fathers with twelvers of Bud bottles. “Only let him have one,” the father says. Only in Modesto are the pools as common as the meth labs, and just as much of a rush.
I just got a call from Moose and Vince and they say that the pool in Modesto is a bust. A full out Sheriff raid went down. It will be too bad if that pool never gets ridden again because it was a good time for everyone who got to experience it. It’s in a small little space behind a house that burned, and it looked like someone tried to repair it but gave up. There was a park on the other side of the back fence, which had a gate for easy entry, and the neighbors on either side didn’t give a shit if people were skating. They were stoked to have a regular supply of aluminum cans! They’d even watch us skate, and warned us once when the owner drove by. The pool itself was perfect, a left hand sort-of kidney, with real good trannys, fully ridable. The coping was weird, with little diamond shapes in it, hard to describe, gnarly but grindable. The Helltown crew owned the place and if it weren’t for them it would not have lasted. They kept the pool painted and kept the place clean, schooled the neighborhood kids, and kept it cool. They hosted some major sessions too, a lot of good, hard skating went down there. But good skating and hard slams go together, and this pool served up some brutal ones. Hopefully the cops will realize that no harm is being done, get tired of patrolling the place and leave it alone so we can go back and pummel the coping some more (and try to avoid getting pummeled). - sam cunningham Some highlights: -Ferdinand’s backside shallow end roll ins. -Moose’s deep end roll out - roll in first try. -Vince’s broken shoulder/wrist frontside deathbox grinds. -Vink’s frontside grinds over the steps. -Sean showing up once and and killing it. -Old man Joel ripping crazy slides and ollies and outlasting everyone. -Ox going berserk, backside ollie to loveseat coping to indy in. -Royce’s backside ollie completely across and over the loveseat. -Farmer grinding every square inch of coping. -Matt Dyke’s shallow end frontside grinds and speed lines. -Frank Atwater’s long-ass boardslides. -Shaggy’s frontside ollie to loveseat coping to air in. -Texas Dan’s Texas plants and inverts.
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captions, top to bottom: matt moose muscles a frontside grind on the face wall. photo by davoud local ripper ryan shreds that place harder than people twice his age. i’d like to see him at ripon. stink bug frontside. photo by davoud royce nelson shows why he’s a master pool ripper with this backside air over the loveseat and into the shallow, which was just a warm up for the backside ollie. photo by lilla. royce went backside, pete the ox goes frontside. aggro loveseat air like only the ox can do. photo by moose.
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captions, clockwise from middle bottom: pete the ox throws down eggplants in almost every pool he skates, this one included. photo by moose ripper ryan, frontside grinds over the death box. photos by davoud white trash grom in training you know the pool is good when even old man joel chavez is grinding over the death box. photo by moose Sam cunningham, classic layback backside tailslide over the death box. photo by davoud circle photos, small to large: pete busts out the longboard to make things interesting. frontside grind. grrrr. rodney, lien to tail. casey lindstrom drove down from sac to bust huge frontside airs. photos by joel chavez
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captions, clockwise from sequence: sick tube sequence of chris ward at rocky point. shot by trefz. all the heshers came out for motorhead. photo by reggie decker. jud hertzler rock n rolls on the new fridge extension at jim’s ramp. photo by davoud. clint peterson, off the wall and over the pole. photo by bratrud. screaming lord salba carve grinds through the corner during a rare nor-cal appearance in sac. photo by davoud. charlie chesleigh styles though a crail at the milpitas vans bowl. photo by nate lawrence.
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captions, clockwise from above: mike wier carves the powder at kirkwood. photo by hay. roger c. takes a page out of kale sandridge’s book and throws up a huge slob air at antioch. stylish backside air in the halfpipe. photo by rodela. i keep forgetting brian’s last name, and he keeps infiltrating our sequence pages with sick tricks like this curtis hsiang inspired frontside alley oop 270 over the hip. Sick! photos by davoud. speaking of sick, who else could tailslide revert the hip at the strawberry lodge but all-terrain ripper chad shetler. photos by clinton perry.
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captions clockwise from above: casey lindstrom fakie 18 18 0 frontside grabs to fakie on the sketchy kitchen sink extension at lee’s house. photos by terry roland. jay moody launches into orbit over a clueless roller blader at alameda. chris senn blasts off with tricks only he can explain. what is this shit? kickflip varial mute grab? i don’t even know how to name that trick, but i know that it ain’t easy. sequences by clinton perry
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Collage by Trefz
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Sean Peterson Maybe it’s due to the high level of skateboarding influence in Santa Cruz, or because the waves create perfect ramps to launch off, but for one reason or another, Santa Cruz breeds the most amount of radical aerial surfers in the world. These days, kids are learning 180 airs to revert before they can snap it off the top. To some, this is a sin. To others, surfing is about doing airs, not styly cut backs and bottom turns. To each their own, but in my opinion the best surfers can do both. What if skaters never did ollies and just carved around, or snowboarders just launched airs and never did powder carves? The same is true for surfing. Airs are part of surfing. A lot of people diss airs in surfing, but maybe it’s just because they can’t do them. - JH
Matt Rockhold
Jeremy Scribner
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Matt Rockhold, ollieing the hip.
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Unfortunately, Dave Nelson was crushed by Chris Gallagher while shooting this floater sequence. These photos were recovered from his camera that washed ashore. We have yet to find his body.
Some say the only real way to measure air is by how far you get your fins out of the water.
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Noah Johnson makes the drop on one of the larger waves of 2001 at Mavericks. Photo by Trefz
Everybody loves a party, right? Especially when the person whose house it is has a drained pool in the back yard and has invited bands to play. Such was the case in Campbell, CA (near San Jose) on a Sunday morning in January. The excuse for the event was someone’s birthday, but the guys who lived in the house had recently gotten an eviction notice, and I’d say that this was their big “fuck you” to the neighborhood. Which is why it probably started at 8am, to piss of the neighbors. Those who were actually able to arrive at the 8am starting time were rewarded with country fried breakfasts and coffee and juice. Those who showed up at 10am were relieved that they hadn’t arrived any earlier because the pool was still wet. It is quite amazing that we can skate pools year round in California, but you do have to watch out for fog and moisture, which will make the walls slick as shit. Nor Cal winters are rough, huh? Anyway, by 11am the pool was dry and Johnny Mannak was grinding over the shallow end death box. Oh, I forgot to tell you
how gnarly this pool was. It was sort of like a right hand kidney, except the deep end was square (and deep!) and there were loveseats in both deep end corners, with the one on the right coming out of the right wall tranny and goes over vert. The facewall has an extra foot of tiled vert, on top of an already hefty four feet of vert that comprises the rest of the deep end. There were two death boxes, one in the rounded shallow end and one on the facewall. You know it’s a good pool party when Royce, Farmer, and the Ox are there, and they were just about the only people who could actually skate the monster. Pete was carve grinding the loveseat, and Farmer was shredding high speed lines which included shallow end death box slashes and super fast carves in the deep end. Royce put it together with super stylish tuck-knee frontside airs in the deep end over the death box, and was the only one to frontside carve the loveseat. He was also the only one to almost backside ollie (corner air) the loveseat. There were all kinds of other people tearing it up, but after a while it all became a blur and my
recollection is fuzzy at best and inaccurate at worst. And besides, we only have photos of Tony, Royce, and Pete. Some drunken fellow in a cowboy hat and several casts duct-taped $60 on the deep end facewall “extension” and offered it to anyone who could do a backside disaster on it. Ha! Nobody could even grind it. This guy had just hit a tree
snowboarding, but was quite convinced that a backside disaster in this tight pool with five feet of vert would be no problem. Sean got a wheeler on it, but that was as close as anyone got. The first band, the Shitkickers, started playing around noon. They were kind of like a country-Supersuckers rip off band, but they were still pretty cool. Somebody showed up with a keg of Pale Ale and then Clay Wheels turned it up and started amping things out with some skate rock.
Previous spread: Jonny’s double exposure shots are super rad. DK makes the drop in before getting vibed by the drunk kook. All photos by Hay. This page: Joel Chavez explores the over vert while Ray Stevens gets stoked, Jonny drinks another beer, and Pete and Tony take a break from shredding. Photo by Lilla. That page, clockwise: Pete the Ox’s ass, as seen as he scrapes a uncommon grind over the loveseat corner. Photo by Davoud. Pete the Ox - frontside loveseat corner air. Photo by Joel Chavez. Royce Nelson, textbook tuck knee frontside on the big vert. Photo by Lilla. Clay Wheels rock out. Photo by Davoud. Sean O gets styled on a frontside on the wave. Photo by Lilla. Danny McNaughton got pretty high on this frontside thruster on the big vert. Photo by Hay.
Pool parties are fun, but they are especially fun when the pool is a no-bust and there are bands playing. That pool was impossible to skate, but it was fun watching people try. As usual, old Joel Chavez was all hopped up on protein bars and energy drinks, and as usual, was getting more radical, more often than anyone else. And the $60 was still taped up on the coping, flapping in the wind. Actually, it was now $40 because one of
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the twenties kept falling off and Farmer pocketed it. So there’s $40 up there, and everybody’s drunk, especially the guy in the cowboy hat. And Todd Prince is sitting next to the money, eyeing it and playing with it, seeing if anyone is watching him. He’s getting ready to steal the money. So Dave talks me into doing it - taking the $40 and dropping in on the facewall. He threatened to leave (he was my ride) if I didn’t do it, and I wasn’t ready to leave. So against my better judgement I went up there, took the money, and without thinking about it too much, dropped in. I was quite excited to not
have piled on my head, and even more excited to get $40, because I really needed the money at the time. And then suddenly the drunk guy in the cowboy hat calls me a thief and accuses me of stealing the money, and asks me why I didn’t do a backside disaster. I argue with him, and even offer to him that I should at least get $20 for dropping in, but he won’t have any of it. “Dude, a backside disaster on that is NO PROBLEM,” he slurred to me, “I skate vert - If I wasn’t in this cast, I’d do it.” So I had to give the money back. Shortly afterwards, Dave informed me that we were leaving. What an asshole.
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Mangy dogs scavenging the streets, eating the ribs of roadside slaughtered rotting corpses. Old abandoned factories, boarded up shanties, taco stands, toll booths, surfboard racks, dirt, potholes, fishing villages and coastline. Miles and miles of coastline. Our journey started when we crossed the boarder into the chaos and disorder of Northern Baja. Most of Baja is pretty mellow as a whole, but the second you get over the border, into Tijuana, everything is out of control. Beggars with no legs sit in the streets huffing the fumes of thousands of cars, little girls sell candy and pinatas and women sell necklaces, 3 for a dollar. You can get your photo taken with a donkey painted like a zebra for 100 pesos. Cars brake and speed up in the same motion. Gangs of aspiring immigrants team up and attempt the border dash, and corrupt Mexican cops patrol pulling over anyone they think might have some money to pay them off. We made it to Rosarito a few hours after dark. Chad’s mom’s house was the meeting spot before we descended deep into the heart of Baja. People had arrived from Santa Cruz, Tahoe, Oakland, San Clemente and Dana Point, for the Mexican surf adventure. A few more people straggled in the next morning who had to put in their last hours at work, before escaping the rat race and getting away to Mexico. On their way in, they didn’t slip in as easily as we had the night before; a Federale had pulled them over either because a) they were speeding,
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words and photos by jonathan hay (b) they had surfboards on their roof and presumably gringos with dollars, or (c) because there was a pretty girl in the car - who knows. The Mexican cops love to fuck with white kids coming down to Baja. If the cops were lucky, the kids might even be carrying some weed on them, and then they would have to bribe them with a bunch of money so they wouldn’t have to go to a dreaded Mexican jail. That’s why I never drive in Mexico; I know I’d always get pulled over, interrogated, searched and the whole bit. After their little scare, we all headed off to go find some Northern Baja Beach breaks. As it so often happens when you have five carloads of friends that all want to go surfing at the same place and the same time, we had our own portable instant crowd. Luckily, the spot we arrived at had winds that were blowing hard offshore, overhead waves, and no one out. Everyone took their share of beatings and Lars even ended up at the doctors back in California, where they were sticking needles in his back to fix his whiplash from a vicious wipeout. We surfed until we couldn’t surf anymore or were sick of getting pummeled; we left to go mack tacos and beer. We finished the spicy fish tacos and mas Cervezas and went back to Chad’s mom’s house to watch surf videos, an oldschool skate movie from the 70s, drink more beer, and get ready for our journey south. The first thing I remembered the next morning was what this one crazy guy that
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was hanging out had said the night before - he was stoked that there were “strippers” in Rosarito that you could “fill up for a buck!” At this point our clan split apart – those that had to return to the real world, and those of us that were ready to get away from it. Our group went from 15 to a modest 9, and four dogs. We loaded up the trucks packed in the boards and gear, split up the dogs, and took off to meet in Ensenada for food, the last stop before the desolation of Baja. We hit up the Gigante grocery store and loaded up on supplies. After fueling up, checking the tires and the oil and letting the dogs piss, we were ready for the gnarly car journey south. Surf articles are very touchy. If you say where the spot is everyone will go there and then you might as well have never written anything about it, or not even left your own town because the place you drive 1000 miles south to is just as crowded. So needless to say, it would be pointless for me to describe where we went or give you directions or a map. Let’s just say we were somewhere between Ensenada and Scorpion Bay. There’s probably 50 spots between those two locations, or maybe only 5, who knows, but you don’t know where we went, so who cares. It took a lot of time, gas, and beers to get
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through the barren desert. Boulder fields and roadkill strewn on the steep winding roads were our roadside companions until we finally arrived. Luckily, no one hit a cow, got a flat tire, ran out of gas, or got stuck in the mud, so we were in pretty good shape. We grinded some more tacos with hot sauce, had more beers, and went to sleep in hopes of getting waves the next morning. I woke up at sunrise and crawled out of my sleeping bag and staggered down over some cactus, rocks and broken crab legs to find a beautiful bay that was peeling with perfect 6-inch waves. We’d driven all day and night for what? I was slightly disappointed, but just happy that I wasn’t sitting down with my back slouched, staring at a computer, like I am right now. To my relief, I soon found out that we weren’t in fact at the main point, but at the beginner longboarder spot aptly named, “Wimps and Gimps”. While I was off taking my morning coffee shit behind the closest cactus, I found my friends had suited up (yes the water is cold in Baja and you have to wear a wetsuit or be really cold), and were driving down to the point, hoping to avoid “the crowd”. I decided to get some photos out of the way while the light was still good, and walked down towards the point. I arrived at a reeling right hander about 1 1/2 later. I’d
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almost fallen over a dozen times with my tripod acting as a dysfunctional walking stick, but I finally made it there, and the waves were going off. They were the best all trip, and of course I sat and took photos that came out shitty, rather than having surfed. Standard. Typical. Lame. Whatever. Being a surf photographer sucks, especially if you don’t have the best equipment. You end up wasting all your money, the shots turn out too far away, and the one you think came out rad you actually took too late, and it’s blurry. Then, to piss in the wound, your friend bitches about how you missed their best wave. So when I finally got almost close enough to take photos, I realize the place is packed. There were 25 people out, at 8 in the morning, and even worse, more than half of them were longboarders. Jesus Christ!! I’d driven 1000 miles to get to crowded Pleasure Point. I don’t even surf there now, and it’s only 10 minutes from my house. But instead, we’d driven day and night to arrive at a crowded “secret” spot. I guess there’s not too many secret spots left in North America, so what could I expect. But I still won’t tell you where we went. My strategy for the rest of the trip was to surf in the middle of the day, when the wind picked up. I still picked up a ton of good waves, but didn’t have to deal with all the longboarders who thought they were these “underground legends”. The most notable of them all, who can’t go without mention, is Mullet Man. Picture a guy with the perfect Mullet hanging ten, whizzing by you with a “Watch out for legend Mullet Man” look of total concentration on his face. Imagine this happening about 20 times in one session, on waves you would have been riding if Mullet Man hadn’t taken off on them on his 10foot long board. The rest of our non-surfing time we spent drinking beer, fishing off longboards, eating fish Burritos with Hot sauce, watching dog fights, and playing music around the fire,
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which was actually just a lantern because there was no wood, and only cacti to burn. The coyotes were crazy too. One night they surrounded the camp. All the dogs had been closed inside the tents and I was on the perimeter of the camp, without a tent. I felt quite vulnerable to the surrounding scavengers. A dingo ate my baby. I looked up in the earliest part of dawn, and saw the silhouettes of 5 coyotes surrounding the camp. A siege! There were others behind me, and all around, cackling their sinister howl, groveling in the earliest light of day, alerting the other coyotes that they had found food – fish carcasses. The barking of the dogs saved me as I was envisioning fighting off the rabid ravenous beasts as they tore at my ears and my cheeks, trying to gnaw off the meat on my face. In the daylight we found chew marks on the plastic lid of our water jug. The ruthless bandits had woken up the dogs trying to drag away half a gallon of water. After 3 days it was time for me to return home, back to the pseudo reality of my life. We made it back to northern California at nighttime the next day. Fortunately, nothing bad happened on the trip. The wind didn’t pick up for seven days straight, no-one flipped their truck, or got busted by the cops for having weed, or got Baja Belly from eating roadside Tacos, and no one even threw up from drinking Tequila. Road trips are fun. No matter where you go, there’s always something cool to be seen and fun times to be had. Don’t waste your life hoping to have enough money to go travel somewhere and then 10 years go by and you’re still working a shitty job, not making enough money, and you still haven’t gone on that trip. There’s always consequences for taking off from your routine life, but without ever taking a chance and risking change, your life will be boring and predictable. Go venture. Take a chance. You only live once…
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Concussion photographer Patrick Trefz took a little trip up to Alaska with some of Santa Cruz’s top surfers: Ratboy, Adam Repogle, Josh Mulcoy and Peter Mel. They cruised around in a boat looking for secret river mouths and reef breaks. The Captain of the boat also leads Heli-boarding trips to much of the unridden Alaskan expanse. The waves weren’t epic but the fishing was the best they’d ever experienced. Mulcoy talked everyone into trying a new sport: surfing the wake of the boat, without a towrope. It worked! They were getting rides for 5 minutes at a time, sometimes one on each side of the wake. Between sessions they’d pull out the rifles for some target practice. Patrick ended up almost losing an eye when a BB ricocheted off a target and lodged itself right in the corner of his eye. (You’ll shoot your eye out Ralphy). With medical attention out of sight, he was lucky he didn’t lose his vision. A photographer with one eye is about as useful as a drunk without a bottle. All in all, the trip went down with few major problems, the main one being lack on insane waves and the eye incident. At least there was no one else out, the Bears didn’t attack, and they caught Great White sharks instead of being caught by them.
Steven is a busy kid. I kept calling his cellular phone for this interview and he’d be like “Oh, dude I’m doing my hair”, or whatever. It was obvious to me that he didn’t know who he was dealing with. This is Concussion Magazine, this is the big time, kid. At one point, I decided to call Steven’s parents house and interview them. But alas, only his sister was home and she wasn’t willing to spill the beans about Steve’s past. She said that he would “kill her”. What kind of monster is this Steven Duke? I finally got a hold of that bastard in an AM/PM bathroom and that’s where we begin our story......
What are you doing right now Duke?
Mike Branzel and Robbie Sell and Curtis Woodman.
I’m taking a piss in an AM/PM bathroom.
Who’s like the girl of the house?
Is it pretty nice in there?
Who’s most like a chic...That’s Robbie. Cause he whines like a little bitch. Nah, I’m just joking, Robbie’s cool. But, he is most like a girl.
Aww, it’s alright, I don’t know, the toilets looking a little sloppy, but, man, the wonders of modern science, that you can talk to me while I’m taking a pee in a public restroom. Did you get that snowmobile today? Yah, I picked it up today. What kind did you get?
Where have you been riding this year? This year I’ve riding at Sugar Bowl, Boreal and Squaw Valley and a bit in the back country. Are you going to Utah soon?
I got a Ski-Doo Summit 700, like everybody else around here.
I actually leave to go to Utah tomorrow. I don’t know, I guess I gonna go hike or snowmobile or something. I gotta do some filming and there ain’t no snow in Tahoe, right now.
So did...
Are you a contest guy?
Wait..Wait I can’t hear you the toilet’s flushing. (swoosh). ok. How long have you been riding a snowboard?
Nah, I don’t do contests but I did enter the Vans Contest recently and I did pretty well, I guess. That’s the only one I’ve done this year.
For nine years I guess now.
Have you traveled outside Tahoe this year yet?
When did you start blowing up? I started getting hooked up about 2 years ago.
Yah, I went British Columbia and I went to Europe once this year too. Other than that, uh, I went to Snow Summit a couple of times and Utah tomorrow, but that’s about it.
Are you from Tahoe?
Tell me the infamous “Banff Dick Story”.
Nah, I’m from Cool, California.
Right now, I’m living in Truckee.
Oh yah, (laughing) that one. Well, that time I went to British Columbia earlier this winter, we went to Banff for a couple of days, it was the same time as the Transworld Industry Conference shit. So there was these “industry” parties at night you know and one of these nights I was in a bar and I was just getting wasted, no, I mean really wasted. I guess I was so fucked up I just pulled my dick out and pissed in the middle of the bar. It was bad. I got dragged across the place with my dick hanging out. Luckily, the 686 guys had my back, cause I guess the bouncers were over it and wanted to kick my ass. I don’t remember shit though, so, whatever.
Who are you living with?
So who-
Are you fucking kidding me, where’s Cool, California? Ahh Cool, it’s a.... ah shit gas is spilling all over my car.. anyways, Cool, yah, it’s near Auburn, in the foothills. It’s next to Colma, where they discovered gold. (huh?) Where do live right now?
Hold on I got another call..... Sorry about that it was my Dad, he was all “Uh son, Concussion Magazine called.” I told him I was on the phone with you guys right now. You’re fucking lucky your sister is too nice and wouldn’t give me dirt on you. Seriously my sister is pretty nice. Thanks a lot to her for not talking shit about me, ashjjjjjj-khjasih-j shasjacacj.(his cellular goes crazy)jdhdaucohhc- c pdocj. Alright this sucks I’m over it, Duke, I can’t hear shit. Let’s wrap it up, who do you ride for? Santa Cruz Snowboards, Northwave and Drake, 686 Enterprises, Von Zipper Eyewear, Boards in Motion and Poorboy Wax. Who was it that you get $50 for saying there name? It’s Sugarbowl, but I don’t think it will fly in Concussion. I think it’s only major magazines, which is bullshit but... Fuck that. Sugarbowl, Sugarbowl, Sugarbowl. They owe me some shit now too. Yah, you know, Sugarbowl is sooo rad and you know what else about Sugarbowl... What about Sugarbowl? (laughing)There’s lot’s of powder at Sugarbowl and Sugarbowl has a good park too. That’s radical, about Sugarbowl, I mean...those guys owe us like $500 each know. OK, Duke is there anyone you want to thank? Thanks to my sponsors and my family and my friends. Most superstars thank God, you know. Nah, no thanks to God. Thanks Steven. Interview by the LZA - Photos by IJ Valenzuela
270 to frontside lipslide, Duke style
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Big backside grabber at Dodge Ridge.
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Everybody gives us scraps - that’s how it works for Concussion. What you can’t sell to another magazine or to someone’s sponsor goes to Concussion. Lucky for us, these magazine editors and team manager guys don’t always have the best taste in photos, and so we tend to end up with really good photos. Bruce decided to write a little something about some of his recent scraps that he’s been giving us: Do you ever wonder how photo's end up in Concussion? I am sure you think to yourself, "Damn that photo is good, how come it isn't in Thrasher or some other mag that actually pays for photo's?" Well there are a number of reasons why and this stupid article will explain but a few of them. Andy Roy f/side air (above)- it’s a age old dilemma- fisheye or long lens fisheye or long lens fisheye or long lens fisheye or long lens fisheye or long lens fish eye or long lens..........sometimes you choose both lenses and get 2 good photos and a magazine will obviously choose 1- your stuck with a great photo of the same trick that’s already been used = straight to Concussion. Andy Roy sequence - This sequence rock’s like a hurricane and has already been printed in my second favorite magazine-SLAP- so why is concussion running it again you ask- well the good people at Slap must have been smoking crack the day they laid it out and had the frames in the wrong order- DISRESPECT! Good thing Concussion can right a terrible wrong. Bryan - roof gap kick flip. This was a case of being in the right place at the right time - I was sitting in my office trying to figure out if I should send this photo to Transworld for a center spread, or over to skateboarder for a cover shot, or across the street to Thrasher for a feature photo, then Davoud walks in and I think, ‘’Fuck those other guys! Concussion is the #1 mag in the world! I’m giving it to Davoud.” 76
Tom Miyeo backside air in Hawaii- same as the Andy Roy deal - Heckler used the straight lens shot, Concussion got the fisheye scrap. Danny Fuenzalida. Nose blunt slide. No story, just a good shot. Look for more excellent scraps from Bruce in future issues of Concussion - as long as we can stay in his good graces, that is.
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Chris Romero rips. A native of San Francisco, Chris currently lives in Oakland with his girlfriend Leslie, dog Lemmy, and housemates Andy and Kevin. Chris has been skating for some twenty years, and it shows in his smooth style and confidence on big vert. Chris hangs out with Pete the Ox a lot, and so his style of skating is somewhat Ox-like, which if you don’t know what that means - is burly as shit. Chris makes his living as an A/V tech , and doesn’t care about being in the spotlight, so don’t expect to see him in Thrasher anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a page in Concussion, because Chris rips. - Davoud
Photos by Davoud, Joel Chavez and Kevin Taylor
Mike Wier is from Calaveras, the foothills of the Sierras. He's been localizing Kirkwood for a long time. He has worked in the park for the last 5 years and has had a big part in the design of the park several of those years. The Kirkwood park is notorious for being big and gnarly, and it was the origin of the name of this here magazine. If you go to Kirkwood, you might see him pulling every air imaginable in the park, hucking off fat cliffs or bombing shoots in Palisades or Thunder Saddle. He just picked up two new sponsors, Libtech Snowboards and Quicksilver outerwear, so he's pretty stoked. Mike is a ripper, and a cool guy, but he doesn't have that 'cool guy' attitude most snowboarders have. When he's not snowboarding, he works in South Lake Tahoe as a fly fishing guide, taking people to the best fishing holes in Tahoe, or at least the ones he doesn't mind them finding out about. - J Hay
Photos by J Hay
Taking out a loan to skate an indoor bowl doesn’t exactly set the mood for a session. Nowadays it is easy to find an indoor park, but is it worth the price you pay? At most parks, after pads are rented and you pay your admission fee, at least twenty bones have been ripped from your Swiss bank account. At the Backdoor Skatepark (and skateshop) in Greenville, NC, you can skate for less and have access to one of the best indoor bowls on the eastern seaboard. Pads are used at one’s own discretion, which is how it should be. Thanks to the people who make places like this, and keep it real: Paul, Billy Biggs, Dave, and all the locals who help keep it going. - Clinton Perry Backdoor Skatepark 222 East 5th Street Greenville, NC 27858 252-752-7049
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Captions, clockwise from right: Personally, I am amazed at the amount of captions we can manage to screw up. Even though Clinton’s slides were clearly labeled, I gave them back before getting people’s names. What a kook I am. Sick doubles wallrides in the street course area of the park. Cass Wigent busts a locals only backside boneless out of the bowl. Cass can also do sick fakie ollies out of the pool coping vert extension. That’s right, that is a fakie ollie. A visiting Casey Lindstrom busts out of the bowl and off the wall.
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The Trust-Fund Kiddie In yet another installment of Concussion’s ongoing “Know Your Fiends and Neighbors” series, we are pleased to present the Trust Fund Kiddie. You know, that friend you have who never seems to work, who is always “in between” jobs and is always calling you up to skate during the week? Chances are, they’re amped to skate because they ride for Team Trust Fund. Trust fund kiddies should be explained for those who are naïve to the subject. They are the polar opposite of Lurkers and other scumbags who grovel just to get by. Trust fund babies usually come from the vaginas of rich women, who are usually married to rich men. While little Billy is still shitting his pants, Daddy calls his friend Mr. Financial Adviser up and sets up a $100,000 mutual fund for little Billy, which by the time little Billy is 18, has turned into a million-dollar mutual fund. Little Billy is whisked away to college in California where he drinks, fucks, and wastes his undergraduate education away, with the assurance that he will continue to receive an “allowance” of at least $5,000 a month for the rest of his life. Four years later, having barely escaped from being kicked out of school and not 82
learned a thing, Billy graduates and is on the cusp of choosing a “career.” This is where it gets interesting. If we’re going to generalize (which, of course, we are), trust fund kiddies do not like to be labeled or known as trust fund kiddies, and tend go to extraordinary means to blend in with the average Joe-Six-Pack or Plain Jane. They have even been known to hold jobs from time to time, at least until the heat is off. Let’s explore the different kinds of Trust Fund Kiddies you might know: Trustafarian The Trustifarian is a classic example of the Trust Fund Kiddie; they have very fine taste in food and drink, love to travel, and never run out of money. To a Trustifarian, work is selling incense or kind veggie burritos in the parking lot at the Phish show. Trustifarians are known to shun the traditional VW Bus and travel in style in SUV-type vehicles, and are especially fond of the Toyota 4-Runner. According to 1998 Census Bureau statistics, Trustifarians comprised over 38% of the fan base for the Grateful Dead in the 1990’s, and have since
switched over to the Phish or Dave Matthew’s circuit. 11% of all Trustifarians spend some time living on Kauai’s Napali Coast. Trustifarians look like hippies, smell like hippies, and even act like hippies, but if accompanied to the ATM, will have vastly differing checking account statements. They also might have a cell phone in their pocket. Trustifarians have been known to blow whole months’ allowances on tanks of nitrous, ounces of weed, full color Jerry tattoos on their back, and the kind catering for a week’s worth of food for all of their friends during Hemp Week. Trustifarians always have tickets to all the upcoming hippie and Reggae shows, and are always the one who pays the rent at the house that all of their stinky, broke friends crash at. Trustifarians are not above getting dirty, and like to travel or backpack in exotic, far-off lands, with top of the line gear, of course. They can often be found trekking around or living in a tent in Hawaii, South America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and anywhere else you can get by speaking English. Snow-Bro Snowboarding is by far, the biggest rich-kid sport of them all. The gear to go snowboarding alone easily costs $500, and that’s not even including $50 lift tickets or season passes to
Squaw, Alpine, or Northstar. So it comes as no surprise that the majority of Trust Fund Kiddies who are into board sports, choose snowboarding. After all, who else can afford to live up in the mountains and not work so that they can poach all the best powder days?
Switzerland, where he can train and enter some European competitions and meet some babes. And if anyone asks him how he got there, he of course would reply, “My sponsor flew me out.”
If you have ever known a trust fund snow-bro, you know what I am talking about. The posh alpine pad, the matching leather couches, the big screen TV, the huge bags of weed and fat lines of coke, the complete lack of touch with reality to how much anything costs - these are all telltale signs of a trust fund snow-bro. Matching snowmobiles are not uncommon, but are of course necessary for riding into the backcountry for some fresh tracks when your Land Cruiser can’t get you there. And when you get sick of that, you can always charter a helicopter to take you to the top of the nearest peak.
These are probably the lowest forms of trust fund kiddies. A regular, poor
But the true sign of a trust fund snow-bro is revealed in the Spring, when the snow melts and everyone gets jobs in town for the summer. Trust fund snow-bro is on a flight to
Trust Fund Junkie
junkie who steals from you and sells your stuff for drugs is bad enough, but a Trust Fund Junkie whose habit is fully supported is even worse. With so many poor, starving, or homeless people in the world, it is truly a shame that Trust Fund Junkies exist, because not only have they not worked a day in their life, they don’t deserve a single dollar that is in their bank account(s).
The Trust Fund Junkie, a close relative of the Snow-Bro, has no concept of what things cost or the value of labor; there is nothing that cannot be bought. In fact, the Trust Fund Junkie might have spent some time as a Snow-Bro back in Aspen, while he still actually rode and just partied and did coke. Trust Fund Junkies tend to live in totally filthy houses in upscale parts of town. They can pay the rent, but their fainéant ways do not include cleaning, and they are too lazy to pick up the phone and call a maid. The Trust Fund Junkie’s key to success lies in never running out of money, and not OD-ing. If things get really bad, or the Trust Fund Junkie’s girlfriend calls the cops on him, he might have to go to rehab for a little while. But for the Trust Fund Junkie, rehab is like a vacation; price is not an object, and so the most luxuiorous and exotic rehabilitation clinics are just a Daddy’s phone call away. Sometimes the Trust Fund Junkie will meet a woman at the luxurious drug clinic and develop a relationship (based mostly on money) with her, which once they are both discharged from rehab, includes taking expensive vacations and doing lots and lots of drugs.
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I’ll never forget the joy I felt when I finished Todd’s interview, I mean, beyond typing it, the hardest part was done. Interviews are weird, someone once told me that interviewing people was like being their psychiatrist, that’s not far from the truth I guess. After questions like, “What’s your favorite color?” or “Do you like pizza?”, things really start to get personal. I’ll never forget the raw, deep-seeded anger I felt when I realized that I didn’t press the record button the whole time that I interviewed Todd. I was just waving the recorder around in the air, “Hey, look at me everybody, I’m Mr. Magazine guy”. Lucky for me my mind has been trained to handle this kind of situation. I remember the important things he said, so I’ll tell you those, and the rest I’ll just make up. Todd Bratrud grew up in Crookstown, MN. He was raised on the streets as a young Latino. Crookstown was very close to Canada, and due to Canada’s violent nature he was forced to deal with angry Canucks crossing the border, burning churches and drinking milk straight from the carton. Young Todd fled his small hometown in Minnesota and relocated to the “Twin Cities” in search of fame as a sexy Latino recording artist. After years of struggling and hard work, Todd decided to turn white, give up his singing career and start skateboarding. That’s when he hooked up with the largest skateshop on the eastern seaboard, Fobia. He also helped start a Communist news letter called LifeSucksDie. By the midnineties Todd was filthy rich and things were getting out of control. He had acquired a pretty nasty addiction to Abba Zabba candy bars and was spending close to $1,000 a day to “get his fix”. That’s when he wrote a letter to Consolidated Skateboards, a cry for help through illustration. Being that Consolidated is a bazillion-dollar company they flew out Todd to sunny California and made him Art Director. Things are better now, away from the candy and away from his sordid past. Really though, Todd likes pinball machine art from the 70’s, loves his wife (Leah), and is thankful to Consolidated for everything they’ve done for him. He loves skateboarding, he has an awesome toy collection and is semi-obsessed with Britney Spears, but aren’t we all? Thanks Todd. Sorry. - The LZA
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Thomas Campbell.
photo: Andrew Paynter
When I was 14, I had friend named Brian Milland. He was one of the best skateboarders in my town, but beyond that he was one of the most creative people I knew. Never a wasted moment with Bryan, if you were hanging out, he would organize spur of the moment jam sessions or have a dada poetry reading. He painted, he wrote, and listened to music that wasn’t cool or popular for the time. Back then he symbolized what skateboarding was really about to me, raw creativity regardless of popular opinion. Years later, Brian started sleeping in a coffin, wearing a hairnet and often spoke about starting his own cult. He eventually just faded away in obscurity. Thomas Campbell is far from ever fading away but he really embodies and inspires raw creativity. Read this interview carefully kids, you just might learn a thing or two. - The LZA When did you first discover that painting was a route for expression? Well, probably when I was a senior in high school. In general I was influenced by people in skateboarding, like Andy Jenkins, Todd Swank,and Neil Blender but not just for being a painter. All of those people, they did everything. They played music, took pictures, wrote stories, painted pictures, made movies. There was no real limitations to what they were doing. In a lot of ways when I was a kid I was like fuck, I could do anything. Maybe people consider me a painter, I’m not really, I mean I paint but I just make stuff. That initial influence enabled me to be able to create whatever I want to create. So you use art to express yourself though whatever medium? Yah, I just like making stuff, I really like designing things, taking photos, definitive sharp photos or really out of focus photos, I think people really limit themselves by catogorizing what they are. You can be creative in anything. Hopefully you can be creative in you interactions with people. Of course the things that people know I do are paintings and photography and film-making because those are tangible and they work in the context of a gallery or a movie theater. How do you like film as opposed to painting? It’s different than taking still photos because its moving. Instead of taking one picture at 250th of a second you are taking 60 pictures a second and you got to make them all sync up and do the right thing. I like it, its really interesting. I’m not really particularly interested in video, I think it is an OK medium and some people make really cool things with video. But the richness and the small definitions that film bring, the warmth and intricacies you can access through film, that’s what I am interested in. I like going really abstract with still photography and film, and when you go abstract with video, it doesn’t hold as much energy, I’m not saying it can’t be done, I just relate to how I do it with film more, it just holds more energy.
Tell me about you record label. Well, its not necessarily a record label, its more of a creative platform, its called Galaxia and my partner Greg Lamson and I started it about seven years ago. Initially we were putting out just music from bands in Santa Cruz the first single was Spaceboy, the next single was The Champs, then we put out some stuff with The Unsane. In general what we were interested in music was changing. Then in ‘97 or ‘95 ,’96? I saw this video by Tommy Guerrero. It was called Amigos, and was for his clothing company Forties. When I was watching the video, I realized the the music was so good, I kept watching because, I liked the video, but I really liked the music, and I remember listening to the music and going “I can’t believe I can’t go buy this right now”. It was one of the first times that I really felt whole-heartedly about something. This good of music and you can’t go buy it? So I called up Tommy and said we should make a soundtrack to the video, And he was like I
don’t really want to make a sound track to the video but maybe we could just make a record. So we ended up making a record with most of that music, Loose Grooves and Bastard Blues, a really beautiful nyloned string, beat based record that was our first fulllength record. I think it came out in ‘98 and that kind of went crazy and enabled up to do a lot more things. Now we are kind of doing other things, like we put out a series of twenty four postcards by different artists like Joe Sorren, Mark Mcgee, Margret Kilkagen, Barry Mcgee, Jeff Tremaine. A lot of people involved in skateboarding and a lot of the projects that we are involved in encompass the community or the great art sources within that community. We are just about to put out a record by Ray Barbee, and Lance Mountain did the cover. We are releasing a band called the Lynn Brown Society which is this amazing indy-pop record. Evan Hecox, the guy wo does the Choclate graphics, is doing the cover for that one. Last year we put out Black Heart Procession ten inch. It’s kind of like a hobby, its not like we get payed for it, If you make any money it goes back into it. Tell me about Japan a little bit, your recent trip over seas. There is a company in Japan that makes T-shirts for a bunch of different artists like Phil Frost, Mark Gonzeles, Barry, Margaret, REAS, ESPO, Chris Johanson, Ed Templeton, that’s all I can remember for now. They got a show together and showed all those people, but everyone had solo shows around Tokoyo. It was crazy to be in Japan with 30 people that you knew. Barry and this graffiti writer Amaze - they painted up these cars and they had this smash up derby for a half hour, it was total no rules, they were wearing equestrian helmets, completely unsanctioned, like smashing each other through fences. It was fucked, there were no rules whatsoever. It is such a sedate culture in a certain way, really crazy in one way and kinda sedate in another and everyone just kinda went nuts. You gave some lectures there?
What I did there was a show in a smaller gallery, half paintings, half photographs and a video installation. When I got there they asked me if I wanted to do a lecture, because Barry and Chris Johanson did lectures. Originally I was like “no I don’t want to do one”. After a little while I was like I really want to do one. The reason I really want to do one because in some ways I’m struggling with the identity of being an artist because a lot of times you go to have a show and in general the ego-centric nature of artists is like hey check me out, I rip, I’m the dude “ of course I’ve been guilty through most of my life of this. I’m trying to remedy the situation. I saw it as an opportunity to give something back I’ve
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been really fortunate to have grow up with skateboarding. Without skateboarding I wouldn’t have known that I could do anything. So I decided to give a lecture. And the jest of it was I was showing people the things I had done and relating it to the societal structure of Japan, you know, Japan holds people pretty aggressively to there rolls in society and people really don’t see options for doing what they want as much as what their families are ordering them to do. Which in a lot of cases, is the case in America too. It’s not that people don’t think, it’s that when they think, they look around and see what’s cool and think “hey, what that guy is doing is cool I should do that”. People in general are not saying “What do I really care about” or “What am I going to do make a difference on this planet through my existence”. You don’t have to fucking save the world but like do something that contributes.
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People don’t think like that. They’re thinking “What am I going to do to make tons of money so I can fucking be happy on the weekends, fuck that, enjoying your life as you move through it, that was the modus operandi of the lecture to show people that these things that I did were an example of, “You can do what you want to do if you follow your heart.” I’m not saying that they should all become artists or be just like me; they can decide or create their own future or their own ideas, and own type of living like what they want. That was what I tried to convey. I think in a lot of way my work conveys that freedom and openness, it’s open to interpretation. The response was really cool. Because they don’t get to hear stuff like that. That was the first time when I felt I was completing the cycle. It’s positive, its giving people a possibility to use it in their lives, to be inspired by it to make movements in their own ways. It was pretty empowering, because a lot of being an artist is so self-promotional, selling yourself off to get more coverage, more publicity, more shows, more and more. That’s not that much fun, actually. I would rather not be such a product, I would rather give back. Worst Head Injury ever? I’m a bit of a clairvoyant. I see things and I have deja vu daily, I think about someone and they call. I have a crazy intuitive sense, just to give you a little background, when I was seventeen I had these dreams for about a week, they were skateboarding dreams, I was waking up going what the fuck, I never have skateboarding dreams, and its the same stuff over and over. At the Del Mar skate park there are these pictures of Tony Hawk, Chris Miller, and Jason Jesse ollieing over each other over the fences. I was seeing this in my dreams, I had never seen it before. The next week I went skating with Rick Demontrand and Core Boy at Del Mar. R.I.P. Core boy. We we skating the square pool, Rick, Core Boy, Spidey, Ed Schroeder, and Eric Nash. You know when you skate with super good people you rise to the occasion, some what. I was skating really good doing smith grinds on this part that was three feet of vert and three feet of transition, you know, really quick. I kicked out on this one and I came down at the bottom of the transition falling 6 feet and landed on the board and slipped out and hit the back of my head, BAM, I was surprised it didn’t crack my helmet open. So I get up and out of the bowl and everyone is tripping out because they thought I was dead. I sit down and then.....here it goes, everything I had dreamt the week before was happening for the next four hours, I was tripping out because it was similar to being on acid but it was a solid deja vu. It wasn’t for like a minute here or there, it was 4 straight hours. Tony Hawk and Chris Miller and Jason were flying over the fences I knew exactly what was going to happen for four hours. That was really heavy because I was 17 and having this division between spirit and body. Obviously we a multi-dimensional beings, I’m seventeen and getting this broken down to me, in this form. I’m like, whoa. Thank You Thomas.
Ws vVi E dv iBEOwosK R ev I E Ws a nd E OO R DE n V ii D Skate Park Grind Guide Liquid Addictions Publications At first glance, these slick, pocket size books seem too commercial to be very legitimate, but that was just my first impression. Upon closer inspection, these books are excellent on a variety of levels. First of all, they are a testament to how many goddamn skateparks there really are in Australia. These books are relatively thick, and they have tons of skateparks, and are only for SECTIONS of the country. They are the size and complexity of camping and backpacking books that they have here in California, but they’re for skateparks! If they did one of those around here, it’d be a ten page pamphlet and half the parks would suck.
Sure, some of the parks in Australia suck too, but with the help of these books, you’ll never have to bother finding that out first hand. When they say every park, ramp and bowl reviewed, they really mean it. There are so many sick parks in here that I was getting excited just flipping through it. Another plus with these books is it seems that the authors actually know what they’re talking about for once, and their ratings of the parks seem somewhat accurate and factual. Their Australian slang can be
Amnesia Concussion Magazine Video #1 I can’t believe I’m writing a review for this stupid video. I’m so sick of watching this video I could never see it again and be fine. The only part that still made me laugh is the clip that Ben filmed of the crazy bum screaming obscenities in the park. That makes me chuckle everytime. And I guess some of the slams and the pool skating is good, but I’m over it. Sick of this video. Spent four months too long editing it, which wasn’t half as fun as rendering it, which was a total nightmare. There’s nothing worse than having wasted two hours rendering a clip only to have the compression settings wrong. So there’s my opinion of Amnesia. If you are blessed with a high bandwidth connection you can watch some quicktime clips from the video at concussion.org/video. But really, you should just send us your $15 and see for yourself, because reviews are always so biased. - DK
humorous at times but overall it is extremely comprehensible for the stupid Americans. Each book even has color shots and mini articles in the front, and they summarize the best mustskate parks in each area. The more I read these books the more anxious I get to take trip to Australia, land of concrete skateparks. They have so many big, gnarly parks from the 70’s it makes me sick. And the new parks they have built are on par with the best designs in the U.S. So if you’re thinking about going to Australia, I would definitely have a look at these books before you go, that way you can plan your trip and skate so many gnary parks you’ll be injured before the first week is over. - DK
Hawk Occupation: Skateboarder Regan Books Among skaters, contemplating the natural talent and almost inhuman abilities of Tony Hawk could spark quite a conversation. Think about it, 75 first place wins, inventor of over 80 tricks, appearances in several TV commercials & numerous movies, 2 video games and a biography! He has made an impact on society that few skaters will ever match. It’s hard to deny that Tony Hawk has remained true to what it means to ‘live’ skateboarding. Now thanks to Regan Books you can get a ‘Bird’s-eye’ view of Tony’s life. His autobiography not only showcases his abilities and experiences as a skater, but his quirky personality, dedication to family and friends, addiction to video games and his positive outlook on life. For anyone who skated through the late 80’s and early 90’s, it will spark personal memories from the peak of skateboarding’s popularity (around ‘87) followed by the plummet of the entire industry. For the non-skater the book offers a terrific representation of the skateboarding lifestyle and the realities of what it takes to not only become a professional, but remain on top. I found the book a bit annoying in the sense that every trick was followed by a ‘definition’ of the trick. However, it’s a good sign that skateboarding is now being marketed towards the masses and is definitely becoming more accepted as part of mainstream culture. - EB
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Plorida Fools I was stoked to get this video, and am stoked to see any video that features pool skating. I thought the title was a misprint at first, but then I watched the video and realized that a lot of these guys were fools. Drunken hicks skating pools in Florida. Classic stuff. The first thing I noticed is that a lot of the pools in Florida seem to be very small - 6’ and under. That was kind of weird, but there were plenty of larger pools thrown in, and after all, it’s hard to tell how deep stuff is when you film with a fisheye. Plorida Fools documents the draining and shredding of various pools, almost all of them kidneys. The guys skating are mostly unknown locals, but most of them shred pretty hard and it wasn’t too hard to get stoked out watching them skate. The soundtrack was pretty much all Florida punk or hardcore stuff, which was cool, and they threw in a few live clips here and there to mix it up. The editing was kind of cheesy and obviously done on and old analog titling machine or something, but it just added to the feel of the flick. And what the fuck do I know about editing anyway? Was I a film major? No. So anyway, some of the best footage comes at the end in the super secret Buck Smith part, which is almost completely shot on film, as opposed to video. For those of you who don’t know who Buck Smith is, he is an 80’s vert pro from Florida who still totally rips, and the footage of him shredding the bowl at Kona is just extra incentive to get my ass on a vacation to Florida to skate pools and gnarly old cement skateparks. - DK Plorida Fools is available through Truckstop Magazine, and you can probably order it off a link from their website, www.truckstopmagazine.com. YOUR VIDEO HERE GODDAMMIT
YOUR VIDEO HERE GODDAMMIT!
I can’t believe nobody sent us any videos to review except for the pool guys from Florida. Swank said he was going to send us the new Foundation video, but it never showed up. Thiebaud was talking big about the REAL video, but was not very forthcoming with a copy for me to review. What else? You all saw the eS video already, so there’s no point in reviewing that. I can’t even believe that I wrote this whole section. Nobody wrote one goddamn review besides me, not even a surf video. Fuck! So send us some videos to review, because this is getting ridiculuous. PO Box 1024 Santa Cruz CA 95061-1024. Do it. TOP 10 TITLES OF UPCOMING SKATEBOARDER BIOGRAPHIES: 10. McGill Occupation: Denny’s 9. Steve Berra Occupation: Soap Opera Star 8. Bill Danforth: Occupation? What’s an Occupation? 7. Blender: Have You Seen Him? 6. Pete the Ox Occupation: Pool Cleaner 5. Danny Way Occupation: Stuntman 4. Vallely Occupation: Pro Wrestler 3. Bam Occupation: Jackass 2. Jason Lee: My First Job was Skateboarding 1. Duane Peters: I Spat On Tony Hawk & Did the Loop First!
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Concussion Long Sleeve shirts and T-shirts make excellent rags for drying a pool, mopping up blood, or cleaning up a spilt beer. Choose from 3 cool styles, the “Junkie Longsleeve” ($20), “Cannibal Logo” or “Classic Logo” (both $10). Shipping is included in the price. We also have an assortment of stickers available for $2. Send a check or money order* to the address below and be sure to specify style (1-6), color, and size (M, L or XL.) Longsleeves are in limited supply and only available in L and XL, so order now. Check concussion.org for our lame-ass online store!! Concussion Merchandise PO Box 1024 Santa Cruz, CA 95061-1024 Please allow 2-3 weeks for delivery * Make checks payable to Concussion
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Powerflex 5 is the latest musical adventure that has taken up my time lately. It’s been raining for almost 2 months straight in the land of the bad. The sound of Powerflex 5 is an electric gumbo of instrumental ingredients mixing 2/3 of a cup of surf guitar, a teaspoon of spaghetti westerns, a smidge of 60’s garage rock,1/3 parts of rock-a-billy, a dash of trashcan rock, a pinch of exotica, a capful of my Mexican heritage, a large helping of punk, a hint of cartoon inspired madness, some t.v. theme song specials, a tablespoon of monster rock, a bit of stripper music, some blues and some skaterock. A new singer has been hard to find and personally I’m sick to death of prissy singer nonsense to contend with. Ego clashes and all that crap..... so instead we’ve been getting close friends like Brian Brannon from JFA to guest vocalize when we play live, which by the way hasn’t happened but five times so far. Chuck Hults, known Screaming Squeegie associate has also been charging with us doing Chuck Berry covers and Devos’ “Gut Feeling.” Steve Olson, has made guest appearances from time to time doing Johnny Thunders’ “Born to Loose”, and Jetboy/Jetgirl by Plastic Betrand. Even long time skate punk Ron Emory and Jonny Ray Bartel (Knitters and Red Devils) jammed at the Indy party and the Old Man Skate Jam at the Skatelab when we played with Agent Orange. We played the EMP Hey Punk sk8-fest in Seattle a while back with TSOL, JFA, US Bombs, Agent Orange, Monkeywrench and a couple of others. We also played the Vans Oceanside, and most recently my birthday bash last weekend - which included one ambulance, one hook and ladder firetruck, eight police cars, one split lip, and a cut open head requiring three staples. Alan Losi’s band Quarter Pound played, as did, The Tiki Tones, Grandpas’ Porno Collection. My lil’ brother Malba took over the mike for some impromptu vocals along with Mark Serna of the Skatin’ Serna clan. Daily Dave from Philly got blasted for getting blasted, Mike Smith rocked, and Tas Pappas and father showed up. Kelly Bellmar got shitty with SCUM lord Cholo. Rhino and Preston got hammered with Tyco, Pineapple Saladino showed up with his wife, and James Lang made people sign his collection of old school decks. Rueler got wasted, Fish took photos, and the locals tore the roof down. Hopefully Powerflex 5 will be coming to a town near you. - Words by Salba / Photos by Fish
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above: legion victorious. right: pete the ox, lien to tail. photos by joel chavez
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The Hessian Session was THE skate party event of early 2001. What better combination than heavy metal and skateboarding, on one of everyone’s favorite super gnarly indoor ramp. everybody was supposed to get dressed up like their favorite metal stars, and many people showed up with hessian wigs and funny outfits. chris romero had a mullet, and pete the ox sported a denim vest. andy’s band the boston trio played first, and was followed up by the metal sounds of Legion Victorious, pictured on our left. They rocked. The funniest part was that half the people there dress like metalheads everyday, and did not get dressed up for the party. this summer they’re going to have a country party, complete with hay bales and country bands, which ought to be just as rad. Anyway, check the metal party movie on our website. - dk
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Bozart Bunge Frentic Records Recorded by Tim Green, the same guy that recorded the Champs, Bozart are a pleasant refresher from the punk and hardcore that seems to make up 95% of the music that gets sent to us. Bozart are an instrumental duo from Minnesota. They have a similar style to the Champs and Mechakucha but more beautiful, wandering, and less riffy. The sounds these guys create are amazing and I’d guess this is good music to make love to. I haven’t had a chance to make love lately, so I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you for sure if it’s good or not. Maybe you should give it a shot if you are in position. The only problem I had was when it ended, should I say, prematurely. I wanted to hear more, but I just started it over again and that’s almost as good! Bozart are an intense melodic instrumental band. Who wants to hear stupid lyrics anyway. You usually can’t hear what people are saying. This music is what the Roman Gods would have been listening to while indulging in their Bacchanalian feasts, drinking wine, smoking whatever it is Gods smoke, and making love to the other Gods and mortals of choice. - JH BABOON a bum note and a bead of sweat Last Beat Records Baboon’s fourth full-length release is a live album recorded over two nights in their hometown of Dallas, Texas. Live albums most often disappoint, rarely capturing the energy and atmosphere of the club, and usually providing less than spectacular sound quality. Neither is the case on “a bum note”. The louder you play it, the better it sounds, the more it conveys the intensity of a baboon show. Though it lacks why’d you say die? The 15 tracks are loaded with new favorites and older classics. Songs such as “kamakazie”, “sucker”, and “save me” all sound particularly fresh after being played to death for the past 8 years. “Bring me the head of jack skinner” defies explanation. Seasoned veterans of the local noise rock scene, baboon have managed to mature musically without losing touch with their roots. Guitars scream, vocals wail then whisper, the 104
percussion bludgeons your senses, and all with a undeniable sense of pop. Bands often loss their magic over the years, but baboon continues to amaze. There, I’ve described the indescribable. baboon is god. Check them out at www.baboonland.com. - TF
Big in Japan Destroy the New Rock Honest Don’s Big in Japan sound like a combination of Green Day and the Descendents. They are full on pop punk to the max. I was wondering if they were from Berkeley, but the liner notes inform me that they are from Reno. Personally, I didn’t care for this album much at all, but I don’t even really care for Green Day, so what do I know? So if you like poppunk, and have worn out all your Descendents records and can’t wait for the next Green Day album, go get Big in Japan to fill your fix. DK
Candy Snatchers/Cheap Dates This Is Rock N Roll Man’s Ruin While this is billed as a Candy Snatchers album, it is actually a split with the Cheap Dates. Cool cover skull art and fast Stooges style punk are what the Candy Snatchers are all about. They’re supposed to have a pretty amusing live show where they roll around in glass and things like that, but I’ve yet to go see them. The title track, “This is Rock n Roll” is a cover by a band called The Kids, and they also do a Mutants cover. So as for the Candy Snatchers, you either like them or you don’t. I think they’re pretty good. The Cheap Dates are just as good if not better than the Candy Snatchers (as least on this album) and are faster and heavier. These two bands would be another good double bill on a Man’s Ruin tour. - DK
Captain Coathanger Self titled Self Produced Now we’re talking. Fast Punk rock. Songs about murder and drinking beer. I mean, I don’t know if I need to hear another band singing about our favorite addiction, but maybe we do. Captain Coathanger sticks it right up your ass, tries to scrape out your doodoo baby as it rips open your anus and drops your guts down your leg, onto the floor. Hold yourself together. This CD didn’t come with a fancy press photo and a write up of the band. It didn’t even come with a case, but I must say, it rocks harder than most stuff I’ve heard this issue. Garage punk rock, rocking guitar solos and lyrics about the life of a derelict. I await more if they don’t get thrown in jail for killing someone first. - JH Curbside Reclaim Half Pint Records Hailing from San Jose, CA, Curbside has been punking out for the last five years. I’m surprised they aren’t more popular. While their sound isn’t pop by any means, it’s not entirely out of reach from the mainstream “alternative” punk sound. Their music is raw, yet they follow, to some extent, the formula that the Chinese Spies stole from NOFX and sold back to the US music industry for top dollar. Thick bass lines, woah-ohhs, snotty vocals and punk guitar solos define their style, but there is a lot of diversity among the different songs on the album. Curbside are a good, solid band. One of the best CD’s of this issue for sure. They’re going on tour right now, so don’t miss these guys if they play in your town. They’ve got a lot to offer. - JH Dicky B. Hardy I Whistle You Dance Taang! Records Good clean fast Punk Rock. You can hear it all. Drums, guitar solos, the words, and the bass plugging away. They remind me of early British Punk meets Dead Kennedys, but more on the old school punk side. Actually, they don’t really sound like the Dead Kennedy’s, just one song sort of did. This shit is good. It sounds like it could have been written 20 years ago. Definitely a change from all the new music that comes out lately that all sounds the same. - JH
The Donnas Turn 21 Lookout I liked them just fine when they were 19, but Ok, they’re 21 now, great. These chicks are a mix between the Go-Go’s, Joan Jett and the Muffs. All their songs are about hooking up with guys, It’s good to see girls admitting they can be just as slimy as guys. Some highlights include: 40 Boys in 40 Nights, about them touring around to different states, every night a different date, they’d do them all if they could; and Living After Midnight, ( a cover of Judas Priest). This wasn’t as cool as the last album where they covered Crue’s “Too Fast For Love,” and the album in general lacks a little punch and sass their first album had, but I still like it. The Donnas have some magic about them, whether it’s their sexy punk rock way they carry themselves, or them turning the roles around talking about all the dudes they’ve gotten together with, the Donnas have style. I can’t wait to see them again in concert. Maybe they’ll come stay over at my house for the night. - JH Dozer Madre de Dios Man’s Ruin Dozer easily falls into the category of bands that sound like Kyuss, or whatever band John Garcia is in at the moment. These dudes are Swedish or Norwegian or something, which is why they’re such hessians. They play heavy, tuned down stoner rock and roll and their singer sounds like John Garcia. The album cover has a photo of a crater and the inside has a photo of a hurricane from space, which lets you the listener know that you are about to be taken on an astral trip on a rock and roll spaceship. This stuff’s pretty good, but as they say, it’s no Kyuss. While Madre de Dios may not be groundbreaking material, it is still good enough to listen to over and over, which will give you a cramp in your neck after some time. - DK Drugknuckle Fell for it Lickidisplit Records Cutesy pop-punk-ska. I should get my girl to review this ‘cause that is who I think they are
trying to play to. It’s way too cute and nice for me. I hear definite influences like Less Than Jake, a bit of Op Ivy, and a heap of No Doubt. They are worth checking out if you like that kind of stuff. They are cool guys as individuals so maybe they will get a following. Hell, Save Ferris did. - Sick Boy Drunk Horse Drunk Horse Man’s Ruin Man’s Ruin has easily become the Sub Pop of the zeros. You see the cat with the cross on his forehead, you know what you’re getting: good, heavy guitar rock by people that aren’t generally all that pleasing to look at. You know it’ll put a bob in your neck, and it’ll probably inspire you to put some beer in your mouth. That being said, not every record on Sub Pop was “Bleach”, and for every Screaming Trees there was a Cat Butt. Drunk Horse’s new album is neither Screaming Trees nor Cat Butt, but is a pretty damn fine first record. The leadoff cut, “Arroyo Grande” sounds a hell of a lot like Lynyrd Skynryd’s “Call Me the Breeze” and sets the pace nicely. There’s a little less Sabbath and a lot more boogie in this record than your typical Man’s Ruin release. The best cut on here is probably “Assed Out/Passed Out,” Drunk Horse’s contribution to the pantheon of odes to drunk driving. “On the leather highway, smoked to the gills and coked up on pills, you’re going down either way.” Amen, brother. Like just about every Man’s Ruin record, my interest tends to wane at about the halfhour mark, but this one has the potential to grow on you. If they aim for Skynyrd - a bold move in these trying times for rock and roll they fall a little short, but they do hit a pretty good Grand Funk. With all this crap on the airwaves right now, that’s pretty damn good. - MS
long and didn’t seem to fit my idea of a rock opera either, which is probably something like Tommy or Queen. Anyway, all the songs are good and the album art is pretty rad, yadda yadda. Drunk Horse rocks, so how could this album suck? - DK Ensign The Price of Progression Nitro Records Ensign are a hardcore band from New Jersey. These guys remind me of a more mellow, more melodic version of Gorilla Biscuits. They’re a lot slower and don’t have as much of the pissed off with society tone, but they are pissed. I must admit I like this more than I had anticipated. Get it if you like melodic yet slightly angry hardcore. - JH Fabulous Disaster Put Out or Get Out Pink & Black The Fabulous Disaster are four tattooed ladies from SF. Pink and Black is a subsidiary of Fat Wreck Chords, which explains why these girls sound like an all girl pop-punk NOFX band. Or maybe it’s that every punk drumbeat I hear sounds like NOFX to me, I dunno. In any case, the first time I listened to this album I kind of liked it. The songs were catchy and somehow it clicked. But on subsequent listens I liked the album less and less, and even put it on again to see if I could tolerate it. That’s how I do album reviews these days - if I can stand to listen to the CD, then it can’t be that bad, because most of this shit that we’re sent gets ripped out of the CD player before the second song even starts. And I could stand to listen to it,
but only for three or four songs. So on that rating system, this CD isn’t great, but I’ve heard a lot of stuff that’s much worse. - DK Fairweather If they move...Kill Them Equal Vision Fairweather are a new band from DC. They play slow passionate rocking tunes. Their songs are about life, love and departure. Some songs are slow, emotional and dramatic while others are faster and more melodic pop and roll. If you want to hear a band that sounds like the Cure meets At the Drive In, maybe Fairweather are the band for you. -JH Faraquet The View from this Tower Dischord I had this album pegged as another Dischord emo-core band, and I was only half-right. They are more like an emo-jazz outfit. Three white guys with glasses who fall somewhere between fIREHOSE and Fugazi, but throw some pop melodies in as well. They use interesting time signatures and it appears that these guys can actually play their instruments, which is more than we can say for many bands. Honestly, I usually don’t like many of the Dischord bands which do not have Ian MacKaye as a member, but Faraquet is pretty ok. At least they’re not predictable. - DK Headgrenade Self-titled 702 Records I have a bit of a bias with these guys, ‘cause I am friends with one of them. The bassist Mark is a good man. So
Drunk Horse Tanning Salon Man’s Ruin That Drunk Horse album review above this one is a little old, and we just got the new one in the mail, so we’re reviewing both of the albums. Drunk Horse is a rad band from Oakland (wassup Oakland), and Tanning Salon is better than their self-titled debut. It has more groove and slightly less Skynyrd/Hellacopters style, but I like it that way. The album is supposed to be some sort of double album rock opera, but it wasn’t too 105
I listened to this album with him in mind. I liked it a great deal and not just because of Mark. It has strength and aggression. It caught my attention. I don’t like a lot of the hardcore that is out today, but this is hardcore done right. When I say right, I mean like Black Flag, Germs, and Bad Religion were. The album art was done by a local tattoo artist. This is definitely one of the best bands I’ve heard come out of Reno in a long time. Check them out now !!!! - SB Idiots Evel Knivel Beer City Records The last day we’re finishing the magazine, and the package of records from Beer City finally arrives, weeks late. Goddammit! Well I had to review at least one thing, and it was this Idiots album. The Idiots are fucking awesome, and if you’ve ever seen them play live you know what I’m talking about. They regularly share bills with another awesome skate punk band from SF, the Loudmouths. This album rules. I wish I had a CD player in my car so I could go 90mph on
the Bay Bridge listening to this album. That would be fun. The Idiots can play so fast, their music is at times reminiscent of the engine-like sounds that come from bands such as Zeke. They have three speeds - fast, faster, and fastest. The Idiots make me want to get violent and punch people, which is what punk rock is supposed to do - not many bands can actually step up to that level, but the Idiots can. They’re awesome. - DK JP5 Hot Box Sudden Death Records I’ve got a soft spot for chick punks. They always make me feel like a young romantic, ‘cause I always want to do anything possible to spend time in their world. These two ladies are very sexy and they rock at the same time. There are a lot of women punk bands out there that try to do it right. These ladies really do it right! They are on (Joey Shitheads from D.O.A.’s) label - Sudden Death. I guess they are touring with D.O.A. all the time. So you know they’re bad if they open for the legendary Canucks. Go buy this CD. You will be happy you did. - SB
Kool Keith Matthew Threshold/Funky Ass Keith Thornton, aka Kool Keith, aka Dr. Octagon, aka Dr. Dooom, aka Black Elvis, continues his all-out verbal assault against all perpetrators, fake-ass booking agents and rival MCs and the like claiming “fuck the rap museum; I should be on the wall, next to RunD.M.C., between Public Enemy.” As bold and arrogant as it may sound, it’s true. Few can claim a rap pedigree that is as varied and prolific as Keith’s. From founding Ultramagnetic MC’s to collaborations with Ice-T and Prodigy, to releasing four albums in ‘99-2000 alone, Keith Turbo gets props merely for incessant productivity. Some argue that beats have suffered without supposed heavyweights such as Octagon’s Dan the Automator behind the console and turntables; critics might be correct about consistency, but wack beats? I think not, motherfucker. Let the first track drop and then decide. - FHG Kyuss Muchas Gracias...the Best of Elektra For a band that was relatively unknown and had such a short life span, it is interesting that
Elektra chose to release a Kyuss greatest hits CD. I consider myself to be a very big fan of Kyuss, and was very disappointed to learn that they had broken up. Most of the members went their separate ways and did their own projects, some of the more noteworthy have been released by Man’s Ruin. Browsing through the record store moments before I found this disc, it was interesting to note how many bands were filed under Kyuss but were not actual Kyuss releases. A Queens of the Stone Age album claims to be Kyuss, as does Nick Oliveri’s Mondo Generator band. And not to slight any of these guys, but if all y’all loved Kyuss so much, then get back together and record some new material. That being said, it is not difficult to see the purely financial motivations behind Elektra’s decision to release this material. After all, I got suckered into paying $14 for this piece of shit album. One thing’s for sure, this album is a far cry from a greatest hits album; it’s more like creatively packaged rarities and b-sides collection. The liner notes scream “scraps,” from the blurry out-take band photos to lack of any explaining anything about Kyuss, the only amusing thing was the runners up to the apparent album cover contest they had. Musically, this album is anything but greatest
hits. Opening with the rare “Un Sandpiper,” originally a Man’s Ruin 7” by the way, I wonder whether the person who chose the songs for this even knew anything about the music. This is pretty much how it goes - there is one song from each of their first three albums, and two songs from their disappointing final official release, “And the Circus Leaves Town”. And there are like five or six b-sides, but if you are any kind of Kyuss fan you already own them. Then to cap it all off, the four live tracks that close out the disc are from a fucking bootleg, and not even a good quality one at that. I have personally searched high and low in quest of a good soundboard bootleg of a Kyuss show, and have yet to find one. If Elektra can’t even get their hands on one, then I suppose it just doesn’t exist. This album is a total scam and I am going to go sell it back just as soon as I burn a few copies so my friends can be disappointed too, but for free. If you really want to hear Kyuss greatest hits, go buy yourself copies of “Blues for the Red Sun” and “Sky Valley”, put them in the CD changer on random, and turn that shit up. If you have all 4 of Kyuss’ albums but not any of the Man’s Ruin shit, then this actually isn’t such a bad album for you. “Un Sandpiper” and “Fatso Forgotso” are arguably Kyuss essentials, it’s only too bad
they didn’t include the Sabbath cover to cap it all off. In any case you can get most of these songs on Napster, and I doubt that any of the guys from Kyuss are getting any money from this disc. And thus to the people over at Elektra who were responsible for releasing Kyuss’ Muchas Gracias retrospective, I say “Chinga te, pienche cavrone”. - DK
Leatherface The Last BYO Records These guys are from the same town in England that I used to live in, so I have to review it. The music is a lot mellower than I had expected. The singer has a tweaked voice which could come only from years and years and years of abuse with smoking tobacco. I suppose this music could be considered Emo, but it’s quite strange really. Some parts are slow with piano, while other songs have chanting, and others are just sappy love songs. This CD was released only in Europe at first, and now it’s re-released with 8 extra songs (from one of the guys in the band’s side projects) which I actually like a little better because they’re heavier. Well, this CD is OK, but I might never listen to it again. But, that’s how I feel about most new music, so
don’t count that for much. If you are into Emo, that is not too sensitive, you might like this stuff. The vocals are definitely unique and raspy. - JH The Lillingtons The Backchannel Broadcast Lookout Records Somewhere between the Ramones, the Misfits and Screeching Weasel are The Lillingtons. They rock pretty well. Basic riffs and catchy sections and Danzig on caffeine mints on the vocals. I don’t know what else to say, not super original, but good enough. - JH
My Heart is A Merciless Piece of Metal and Fire Self Titled No Idea Records Turn it up! That’s the first thing I did. Gruff vocals and sharp harmonics characterize these metal demons’ sound. Chuga chug chug Chuga chug chug. Something I enjoyed about this CD was that with most Death Metal you
get lost as all the thrashing melds together. On this release you can hear every guitar riff, every roar, every drum thump and bass note. The complexity gets intense in spots with each musician giving all humanly possible without selling their soul. Right after this, I went to sleep to the rest of the CD. I woke up in the middle of the night with a ghost girl holding my hand on the floor. She let go and got up and formed into an apparition. I tried with all my strength to get the words out. “Who Are you?” I whisped, three times in a row, each time trying harder and harder to get the words out. I was pinned down to my bed. I struggled to get up. Harder and harder I tried, and finally I pulled myself up. I reached out to touch the ghost, and my hand went through her. As I looked she faded away in the dark and I was alone again. It was so real. Maybe it was the music. Maybe not. Does the devil exist? Is there a god. Are there ghosts? Should I believe in anything? - JH
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Nip Drivers Destroy Whitey/Oh Blessed Freak Show Taang! Records Good fast punk rock. They cover Duran Duran’s Rio - you know, “Her name was Rio and she’s dancing on the sand.” What a great cover. There’s 28 songs on this CD, and they’re all good. Super fast high energy punk. Some times they slow it down and get heavy, sometimes there is a girl singing, and sometimes they just belt it out high speed thrash style. Nip Drivers rock. Get it if you like fast, driving, punk rock. -JH Oneida Come On Everybody Let’s Rock Jagjuwar Maybe it’s an artistic statement, maybe they want to provoke the listener, who knows? For whatever reason these guys sport a picture of fully nude and not so fit or attractive dude on the CD sleeve, then the start the disc with a phenomenally shitty first song that doesn’t sound at all like the rest of the record. But once you skip past track one and close the disc case, this disc picks up pretty nicely into a drunken and semi-coherent bluesy ramble. There’s a serious seventies rock influence here, mostly the more fucked up variety a la Captain Beefheart or the Stooges, but there’s also a healthy dose of early nineties indie rock stylings, with nods in the direction of folks like Mudhoney and Royal Trux. Pound for pound, I’d have to say the hilarious “Doin’ Business in Japan” is the best song I’ve heard all year, and while this is a pretty darn good album overall, I’m not sure what to do with it. It’s a little too sprawling and weird to just have on in the house, it’s not really rocking enough to drink to, and it never sits down into a groove long enough for most other things one would do with a record of this nature on the turntable. I wouldn’t want to have sex with this record on, nor would I want it on while cooking dinner or engaging in casual conversation with friends. I dunno, if anybody out there is still having quaalude parties, this will be exactly what you’re looking for. - MS The Plug Uglies Self Titled I don’t know crap about music. I don’t know how to tell if someone’s a good musician or not. In fact I think I’m tone deaf and I know that I have no rhythm. All I know is what I like and what I don’t like. I like some weird stuff like, Neil Diamond, Hot Dogs, and little Asian Girls. When my friend Dave came up to me saying I had to check his band The Plug Uglies. My 108
reaction was “Oh boy, another lame band that my friends are in so I have to pretend to like them.” When I got home and put their new CD Back in the Hole in, it rocked! Then I got to see them live and they still rocked. They even covered Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, then we got drunk and broke shit. It’s high energy punk with a bit of metal and country just to keep it interesting. But then again I don’t know squat about music so maybe they suck and I’m an idiot for liking them. You decide...Oh, they have a web site www.thepluguglies.com -GOLD Polar Fleet Operator:Generator Man’s Ruin Polar Fleet’s album cover and name imply that they are Norwegian hessians, but not so they are from San Jose, my hometown! They are friends of the guys in High on Fire, and I could easily see the two bands sharing the same bill. While not as all-out assaultive as High on Fire is, Polar Fleet play as if they have been listening to a lot of Ozzy and Kyuss, and probably tune down and have long hair and really big amps to deafen their listeners at live shows. I think this is probably the best album that Man’s Ruin sent us this time, which is quite an achievement, considering the high caliber of their releases. While probably not quite as good as Electric Wizard or Natas, Polar Fleet are serious contenders in the stoner rock arena, and Operator: Generator has made it’s way into heavy CD rotation at my house. While all of these bands sometimes start to sound the same, it sure is still better than Limp Bizkit or any of the super derivative NOFX punk shit we get sent. - DK The Real McKenzies Clash of the Tartans Sudden Death Records This is the second album by these Scottish lads. I am a big fan of the Pogues, so this is just intoxicating to me. I can’t help myself when I listen to these guys. My feet start moving and my fist is airborne. There is so much to say about these guys, but I’m going for simplicity. These guys rule beyond most of everything you’ve heard. Their live show will kick your ass into a drunken stupor. Buy everything these guys ever did or do. They are the best heritage minded punk band there is out there right now. I’m telling you they rule, Damnit! - SB
Sage Francis Still Sick: Urine Trouble This man is a hip hop genius. He knows his craft so well that I have a hard time finding a need for improvement. Sage Francis is a big kind of oafy looking white guy with a shaved head and often sporting a patch on his chin. This kid Sage packs some serious wit and intelligence into his creations. He comes from Rhode Island, the last place you might expect an impressive growing MC to grow up. In his spoken word piece called “Mullet”, he talks about his evolution to hip hop while living in a small butt rock town. His mind works rapid fire and can spit freestyles faster than Puffy can get himself into trouble. At the esteemed Skribble Jam on the East Coast, Sage won the freestyle trophy. Sometimes using the nickname Strange Famous, this kid has a lot more to say when he’s not freestyling. His written rhymes on the Still Sick album are perfectly crafted, metaphorically rich social commentaries on our commercialized Barbie world. No shortcuts or thin ice on this solid album. The album is a collage of written rhymes, spoken word and freestyle sessions that culminate into an equal representation of Sage’s brain and style. Joey Beats produces sick tracks for the album that are always original. I respect Sage’s will to maintain his straight edge ways, even though I myself choose to bathe in the delirium of drugs and alcohol. Maybe Sage’s ideas and lyrics wouldn’t be so crystal clear and intellectual if he spent his time drinking and smoking. Maybe they would? Anyhow, Sage has signed to the Anticon label and will be releasing music through them from here on out. He doesn’t completely fit in to the Anticon hip hop geek coalition the same way that Buck65 does, but hey. They need
someone with Sage’s style to fill in the gaps that Sixtoo and the other kids left. So to summarize up Mr. Strange Famous’ recent album here, I’ll say that this is as true as hip hop gets and provides entertainment and pleasure for all hip hop fans. It’s hard to find, but shit, what do you think the Internet’s here for!! — JH Screeching Weasel Teen Punks in Heat Panic Button Records I love Screeching Weasel. I’ve got the weasel tattooed on my leg. I truly am a sucker for the Ramones, so it would make sense for me to be a huge weasel fan. I believe that if the Ramones got together in the mid-eighties they would be close to what the Weasels do. Ben Weasel just amazes me. He has three bands, writes for a couple mags, has a label, and produces other bands. I am truly impressed. This album kicks ass. It is classic Weasel, like songs from Boogada. The best love songs ever written are by Weasel. This album is a solid punk album. If you listen to it you will see that Weasel has written songs that will stand the test of time. - SB
Key to Reviewers: JH - Jonathan Hay DK - Davoud FHG - Frank Gilbert MS - Mickey Stamm TF - Tony Farmer SB - Sick Boy GOLD - Justin Gold JH - Joel Hickok
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Captions clockwise from above: Attempted tube rider gets clipped in the head and taken down. The kinked snakerun of Derby has taken out many people over the years. Adam and Scott attempt doubles going down, and Scott gets tossed on his ass. Not as bad as the stupid biker though. You can watch him bounce off the cement, that’s exactly what that kook deserved. And speaking of kinked parks, the new SF skate pit is more fun than Derby, but just as wacky. Jeff Reeves gets tossed by the out-of-the-deep-end flat bank kink. Background photo - going over the falls was never this much fun.
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skulls by orr siamese twins by arthur carvaho
Kevin Clockwise from right: the o int it Torrey has made in a s ue iss 3 on cti slam se , ord rec w row! That’s a ne he ud pro w ho at k and loo ected, is, showing off his inf an Se Big w. bo ell sw nasty r shot takes big slams. Cove a got outtake. Matt Moose phok too d bloody head an t ge to ing go e for tos be girl. stitches, as did that talking Sean got beat up for the d An t. shit. Imagine tha to es go nth mo the of slam t go o wh , Andy Robertson er aft ad he his in s ple 16 sta rd. skating Medfo
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