Fear & Loathing, LB Summer Edition

Chela: I think every band should have a theme song. I like to think I have a special talent for coming up with those kinds of songs.

Alice: Last year, I was touring with my book, Violence Girl. My readings were part storytelling and part music. I wanted a lead guitarist to accompany me as I primarily play rhythm and Dana came highly recommended. I immediately liked her and we stayed in touch following that show. Earlier this year, I was invited to be part of Fox Vag Fest here in Phoenix and when I replied to the promoter that I didn't have a band, she said I should ask Dana again, so I did. The first couple of months it was just me and Dana getting together writing songs and eating baked goods. Then she said she knew a bassist and drummer, she brought in Chela and Amy from the French Girls and before you knew it, we had a band.

Alice: Chela wrote the She*Riffs’ theme song.

Alice: That's different for each of us so the content is diverse. A couple of my songs are written from the perspective of an older woman talking to a younger one. Modern Day Virgin Sacrifice is about the pressures put on teens to meet impossible standards of beauty. Incorporeal Life is about online escapism, a condition that is not unique to the young but the song was inspired by a certain young lady I know personally.

Dana: I don't necessarily set out to write about specific things or affect a specific sound. In terms of lyrical content, a lot of it comes from a more subconscious place, I guess, more of a feeling, so I guess that's how my 'life experiences' filter out. I like the idea of people attaching their own meaning to songs, or just enjoying them for what they are, if that makes sense. After playing in my other band (JJCnV) for so long, a lot of the 'style' just happens on its own, but the experience of being in that band has definitely influenced the way I operate musically.

Amy: As the drummer, I’m not generally writing lyrics, so I use my parts to try to enhance the lyrical and musical dynamics of each song, whether that is fun or serious. And sure, sometimes I’m playing through my emotions based on how I may feel my own experiences relate to the words or music (or both) of our songs.

Dana: I'm not sure what you've read, but here's the story. We were originally going to be called 'The Mrs. Howls', but since that name was taken, we had to go with a plan B. My hubby Pete (who's also in JJCnV with me) and I were driving on the freeway one night when we saw a sheriff's car drive by. He said, 'I'm surprised there's never been a girl garage band called The She*Riffs, seems so obvious." I kept that in the back of my mind, and here we are today.

Dana: Although I have some pretty strong opinions related to politics, they rarely (if ever) show up in any songs I write.

Alice: I chose to be in an all-female band, so I don't mind if we're categorized as one. I don't always choose to play in all-female bands, but when I do, they always kick ass. I like mixed bands, too, but I think it's good to have something that provides a counterpoint to the ubiquitous all-boy bands.

Dana: This is the first all-female band I've ever been in, and so far, it's been great. I don't know if I'd say I embrace being categorized, but I also realize that it's just going to happen sometimes.

Chela: I have been in quite a few "girl bands". I don't mind being categorized as such but when that categorization comes before the style of music it irritates me. One time one of my bands got put in a local paper's "Best of Phoenix" issue as one of the top all-female bands along with a hardcore band, blues band, an Americana group, and a Latin band/dance group. Each band should've been nominated in their style of music but were excluded from the genre because of their status as an all-female group. That's bogus!

Alice: That is bogus, I hate that too. That happens to me on Pandora some of my stations seem to be filtered by gender, rather than genre.

Amy: I have been in all-girl bands and in mixed bands and the categorization just happens, so I can live with it. I have always gotten a little irritated when comments include statements like “wow, you girls can play just as good as guys,” as if a. it’s a surprise and b. it’s a goal! We love music and are playing it based on that same passion that any musician has, male or female. Some people play well and some don’t regardless what’s going on downstairs!

Alice: I'm opinionated about everything, including politics and I try to live my life so that it's consistent with my beliefs. I wouldn't say we are a deliberately political band but I think everything each of us brings to the mix shapes how we are perceived and carries a political message. I'm a woman playing in a maledominated music scene, I'm Latina, I'm bilingual, I'm bisexual and who I am communicates. Some of my songs reflect my opinions outwardly others do it indirectly.

Amy: I am also very politically opinionated which may not be real apparent in my drumming but I am always very happy to musically rally for a cause I believe in.

Alice: Yeah, we recently played a fundraiser for the Sheriff Joe recall effort where we changed the words to our theme song to fit the occasion, we sang “Arpaio, you’re going down, we’re the new sheriffs in town!”

Alice: I've been in Arizona since 2006 and just recently started playing and going out to concerts, so my knowledge of the music scene here is limited. In L.A., I sometimes have the feeling that people approach music as a creative outlet but also with an eye to making it a career. I find LA to be more competitive, which is not surprising since it is the "Entertainment Capital" and talented people flock there from all over the world looking for success. Here in Phoenix, my experience has been that being in a band is much more an expression of your outlook on life; the people I know in bands seem to live creatively without much competitive jostling. It's very relaxed and not as intense, I grew up in the L.A music scene, so I've had to adapt. I'm trying to just enjoy the process without always planning the next band move. I can see the benefits and drawbacks to either scenario; I guess it's all about balance.

Amy: I have only played LA on tour. But I played music in NYC for years and I think there are similarities. A lot of people move to those places to achieve bigger goals, bigger musical deals and opportunities, so there’s more of a prevalent competitive edge. Phoenix is a great base for a band. We can travel to so many great nearby spots and there’s a really great artistic community here.

Chela: I see us a being the first band to play on the moon!

Amy: Chela says the moon..but I’m a MARS girl myself.

Go Red Planet! Outer space tour!

Dana: Hey! I want to go to outer space, too! How soon can we get this going...?

Alice: I don't know that punk attitude ever stopped being interesting!

Chela: I am an artist and specialize in painting pet portraits (www.facebook.com/chelamischke.artist). I love animals and also enjoy volunteering at animal shelters. Also, Amy and I have been playing together for a long time. Our band, French Girls, is getting ready to release a record and we play out quite often Alice: I'm a full time mom, right now I'm spending a lot of time trying to teach my daughter to drive. I recently started work on my second book, a sequel to Violence Girl and I’m going to start trying to book that outer space tour.

Dana: I own a diner with two great friends and get to spend my days baking delicious things (and I frequently call on Chela, Amy and Alice to be my

guinea pigs). I'm also in another band called JJCnV who have been around for quite a while. We have a couple of records and play in in Phoenix and SoCal pretty frequently.

Amy: I work in fundraising for an animal rescue. I also do a lot of arts writing and independent curating. Lots of French Girls drumming and shows galore (with Chela)! And, I still play in a fuzzy punk pop band called Jumping Bomb Girls based in NYC since the late 90s that is recording a new CD at Q Division in Boston in 2014. www.alicebag.com The True Life Adventures of Violence Girl Diary of a Bad Housewife https://www.facebook.com/chelamischke.artist

Last One to Die is your newest book, a collection of life and L.A replete with personal stories, interviews, and commentary that consistently flow into one another. It’s like taking a midnight drive through the psyche of Los Angeles. What was your inspiration to put this collection together?

A few things came into play. First my father passing away in 2005, kind of, made me go into this big nostalgic thing. Rebuilding my 1970’s comic book collection, rebuilding my 1980’s punk rock collection (albums, singles, flyers and fanzines). Then I started writing for Strange Reaction, doing vintage reviews. Basically writing about albums and shows that I went to a million years ago. After writing for the site for 4 and ½ to five years I sat down and went through the writings I did and rewrote my favorite pieces and then found a way to string them together so they made sense as stories.

What personal experience growing up, inspired you to start writing?

I had always written, mostly poems or songs that were never put to music. I had been on the school paper, stuff like that. In fifth grade my mom told me that my great uncle was the western author Zane Grey. I brought in an autographed copy of a book that he wrote about my great grandmother, Betty Zane, for show and tell one day. And I’ll never forget my teacher, Mrs. Tabor, looking at me like I was royalty. Knowing a family member could do this and be looked at like that made writing very appealing.

How influential was the 80’s punk scene in your creativity? Does that scene, stand the test of time in your opinion?

Creatively it shaped me. People like Lee Ellingson, Pushead, Brian Walsby, Marc Rude and Shawn Kerri were all outstanding artists, all outside of the usual channels. But to me they were superstars. As was Edward Colver.

Musically the bulk of the original L.A. punk holds up as well. The Frontier catalog, the Posh Boy catalog, the early SST stuff, perfect stuff.

There was a scene going on that had so many layers. You might have a show with Phranc opening, 45 Grave playing and maybe somebody like Black Flag closing. There weren’t as many rules as there are now. If you didn’t fit in anywhere else you could have a home in the punk scene.

I really enjoyed the personal accounts of company over staying their welcome in the book; you seem like a pretty tolerant guy. I’ve encountered a few strange guests too, that didn’t get the hint. Why do you think people start acting bizarre when they are visiting California, too much dreaming?

I’m not sure. Some people are just habitual line-crossers. They do something that’s a bit out of line and if you don’t call them on it they go a bit further until you either explode and throw them out or just plain don’t talk again.

Where is your favorite place to go in the area to draw inspiration or just have ease of mind in the hustle and bustle of this insane city?

I think places that are a bit chaotic. Sometimes Hollywood will just dump a story in your lap, parts of Van Nuys where I’m the only white person for miles. Something about being out of your element draws inspiration.

Downtown Los Angeles always has sometimes bubbling under the surface.

With the advent of online publishing becoming accessible to so many new authors, do you see a resurgence of the “written word” taking place in 2013?

On the other hand, is it more of a problem like music where there are almost too many bands to browse through to give anyone a fair listen?

I don’t think you can have too much music or too many writers. The only tricky part is finding what speaks to you. Commercial or independent, it doesn’t matter, good is good.

You’ve written for a number of well-known underground and music oriented publications under different names, which ones did you enjoy the most and how did you line up the writing gigs?

I didn’t exactly use a different name, I wrote mainly as Mike E. The Strange Reaction website was looking for a reviewer. Their last one had gotten into a really bad car accident and almost died or something like that. I sent in a review of the first Bad Religion EP, but my reviews tended to be long and drawn out. I’d tell you where I bought the EP, which band members I knew, on and on like that. Scott Hankins, the owner of Strange Reaction, liked the review, published it and asked for something new for the next week. I’ve been doing that column for 6 and ½ years.

Then Flipside got revamped, under the name of Flipside 2010. The first issue came out and I really liked the look and feel of it, so I sent an email to Hudley Flipside (great lady) and said, “I have to be part of this!” She said sure. That was that.

After Flipside 2010 folded, Billy Caldwell (of Million Kids) and Joe Henderson (of Ink Disease) put together Spark Plug Magazine. And I’ve been with them for over 3 years.

At the end of May, I have an article appearing in a fanzine call Usual Suspect.

I know there’s been others, but I’m not sure what they are?!

What is the best interview and worst interview that you have conducted in your career?

The best has to have been the Jay Adams interview. I wrote him out of the blue. I was a nobody with nothing to offer, but he was so cool, and said something like, “Who needs money?” We did the interview over the course of six months. I’d send him a question, he’d answer it and then say he would be

tied up for a bit or say, “Send me three more questions.” We worked at his pace and I really think we covered everything you could ask the guy.

The worst was an interview I did with Marv Wolfman for Web Comics. He was the creator of the book Teen Titans back in the 1980’s. He wouldn’t answer anything. I asked if the book Teen Titans left him well off, he said he wouldn’t discuss that, I asked about the lawsuit he had over the creator rights of the character Blade, he said he wouldn’t discuss that either. A real pain in the ass.

Most recently I asked Henry Rollins if I could interview him, he said yes and I sent over six questions. I thought this would be a breeze. He wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to answer all of the questions, so he’ll answer none. I wrote him back asking if I should cut the interview even shorter, and he says it’s the nature of my questions, not the amount. I’m not sure if that qualifies as a bad interview or a non-interview.

You had experience as a boxer. Did you find it cathartic and how does it fit into the world of punk rock, writing, and comics?

Well, the obvious would be for me to say, “I was an angry young man, so I fought.” But the truth is two things, first I didn’t really excel at team sports, I did better alone. So, boxing was ideal. In other sports you can do your best and if your pitcher or quarterback fails – you lose. In boxing, usually, if you do your best, you win Second reason I got into boxing was I had made the transition to the corporate world. In an office nine hours a day, dealing with office politics and backstabbing, I couldn’t take it. I needed something a bit more primal. So, I found out about a park in the “hood” that had boxing twice a week. I’d go and hop in the ring every time. Had an 11-0-1 amateur career and a 12-0-0 pro career.

Why do you think comics in general really stand the test of time and seem to have a similar appeal of the “music on vinyl” phenomenon?

Well, for me comic books and music mark certain periods of time. Certain years or decades I can remember by who I listened to and what I read. The seventies were Spider-Man and Kiss.

Regular books are like that too. Even though I read Bukowski for as long as I can remember, I will always think of my wife when I come across Bukowski

now. One of our first Christmas’ after we married, my wife tracked down two Bukowski books (Ham on Rye and a poetry collection) in hard back editions for me.

So, long way around . . . music and comics are my timelines.

What current writers influence you, if any? In addition, what “not so current” authors inspire?

I have always loved Hemmingway’s conversational style (read Old Man & the Sea) and I love James Frey’s first two books. His sparse style, no upper, lower case, no punctuation. Edward Bunker’s style. And Eddie Little (hope I don’t get any veiled threats for mentioning his name).

Do you find the realm of social media a much better way for readers and authors to connect as well as musicians? What do you think the drawbacks are in terms of lack of “face-to-face-communication”?

Face to face is always better. It’s kind of like the difference between watching comedy and listening to a comedy album. So much is lost by not seeing facial expressions, etc.

Also, some people when using social media sites seem to take liberties with “celebrities.” Comments can escalate fast, the sexist and racial remarks pop-up over the smallest story. Face to face, most of these people wouldn’t try this, but the anonymity of the web; everyone becomes 10-foot tall and bullet proof.

You currently have a new book in the works; could you tell us what readers can expect? Any surprises we should know about with the newest creation.

No major surprises, but I have a chapter about celebrities that I have bumped into, people I accidentally hung out with. Spending the afternoon with Eddie Money in Miller’s Outpost and a drunken Jeff Conway cursing and buying booze in a supermarket.

Otherwise, similar stories, crazy friends, and complicated family relations.

Stories about certain people also change from book to book. Only because the people you love the most can also be the people you can’t stand. So, depending on the day I write the tone may be good or bad.

In the crazy times we live in, what advice could you give to someone seeking a creative career? Is there still an opening in American society for the creative artist/writer?

Well, here it is: you do creative stuff because you have to. It’s deep inside you; it’s the thing that drives you. Either you’re creative or you’re not.

But more people starve and lose their minds trying to get by this way. So, my advice is: never put all your eggs in one basket. If you are a painter, paint, try to sell your paintings, but during the day (or night) work your horrible telemarketing job to pay your rent. Get off work at 5:00, and start painting again.

About twenty years ago when I first met my wife’s family, I remember all the guys coming up and asking me what I did for a living, I would answer then ask them the same question (that’s the protocol). But I really wanted to say, “What I do for a living isn’t what I am!” For many people it is, like a guy saying, “I’m a lawyer.” Him saying that is the final answer, that’s what he does and what he strives to be (I know, I know, not in all cases), whereas I worked as a graphic designer, but I had so many other things going on that designer didn’t define me.

Rant is now complete.

Congratulations on 10 years of the Pegs.

What was the catalyst for the Pegs, and what does your anniversary symbolize to you?

Scotty- - I think being the new guy on the block and playing drums has energized the band.

Sean- - Thanks I guess. Having fun has always been the catalyst fo us. We fight....we argue... and most of the time wanna kill each, but we alawys seem to end up on the same page at the same time. The fun, I think is our ability to just be what we are... and now after all these years just being stoked to let it rip and watch the action go down. Good or bad, it's always a good time when the four of us are together.

What do Amy Winehouse, Shannon Doherty, and the Pegs have in common?

Drew- Dead or alive we all fucking rule.

Scotty- The chick Amy gave us VD. Adam- The obvious answer would be bad life choices...but honestly, we have all lived at the Surf Motel.

Sean- I think Scotty stuck is manhood in her once or twice.

Does it ever bother you being labeled as “punk” band?

Scotty- Nope ...I'm proud to carry on the tradition.

Adam- - Not sure what it is that keeps us coming back, i suppose it's the rush, and the energy that happens when we turn it up and rip through a set set of 2 minutes songs. There is nothing quite lile it. We have all played with othre bands and diferent styles, but there is something chemical about The Pegs. It flows natutrally and we all seem to have a fun time doing it. 10 years is along a time, we have learned to play our intstruments a lot better...we still aren't perfect, but that's what makes it exciting.

Drew- Nothing...having fun and playing loud.

Drew- We are.

Adam-- Not at all… you couldn't really describe our band with out using the word punk. The Pegs is a punk rock band, period.

We have toyed with other genres and it doesn't work, we are what we are. We all listen to non-punk rock music and pull from a wide range of influences, but when we play and write Pegs songs… they come out punk rock.

Sean-- we are.....i guess we are not getting to go on tour with Bannarama now....Kinda bums me out!

Do the phrases “For the Punx”, “Punks not dead”, or “punk for life” bother you and do you find them cliché?

Sean- - My Favoritet too...that's the show i told you to pull over and I'll drive us home.

Drew- That and you where way more fucked up than me and had both eyes closed and got us lost and we only had to go 3 blocks.

Scott- - uhmmm..

Adam- I don't think I could where a t-shirt that had any of those slogans on it.

Sean - Nope, i don't think about life in terms of cliches or terms. We are what we are and that's fine with me.

Drew- i don't even care

Has sloganeering in “Punk” with phrases like these led to a dumbing down where it’s more like a cheerleading section leading to a style of music that people grow out of because of one-dimensional aspects?

Scott - Thats a great idea! we should get some skanky cheerleaders onstage with us!

Drew -ya never grow out of it

Adam--Our first show… we fucked up the PA system, Sean broke all the mics and we got banned from the club after 6 songs. Martini Lounge 2002 with The Rotters, The Stitches and The Loads.

Do you see your band gaining momentum in 2012 with overseas audiences more than U.S crowds?

What’s the most memorable show you ever had?

Drew -china beach show was pretty great we were all fucked up

Adam -We are huge in Asia.. Well I am at least.

Sean - No way....our world tour consists of the road between San Clemente and Long

Beach. Allthough those Asian dudes do like Adamsan.

Drew - we need to get the fuck over there then right.

Sean - Well maybe....

If readers had to pick up one Pegs release, what would it be?

Scotty -The newest release, titled "Nobodys Listening Anyway" duh Adam - "Live Action Fuckers"… Our live stuff blows away anything we ever did in the studio. Were gonna be doing some more hi quality live recordings coming up… we want to capture the energy.

Drew- get em all an you choose

like the way to go… you see the pictures of kids losing their shit and freaking out to the music… but typically it's like 10 kids standing there with "holy-fuck" looks on their face, afraid Sean is gonna try and kiss them.

Drew-- fuck i love what we do, doesn't matter bar or not Scott- - cocaine and liquor...and all age girls Sean- -for the free boozes. I only kissed that one chick and see popped me in the mouth and broke my front tooth.

What do the Pegs think about family values? Do they really coincide with a musical form that prides itself on “crash and burn”?

Sean- the last 45 out on Rapid Pulse/No Front teeth. this is my favorite to date.

Adam -Sure it does… I have a wife and three kids… I owe it all to punk rock. My kids are so punk rock… ask anyone. They will pogo the fuck out of your couch.

Is the band a lifestyle, full-time machine, or something you plan to end someday?

Scotty –Adam’s family is definately punk as fuck and totally awsome!

Adam -The Band is like one of your arms… if you were to cut it off you would be super bummed. It would make life a real pain in the ass not to have it. It helps make all the normal life shit more tolerable.

What does the future hold for the band and where can we check out your releases?

Sean - Exactly..it's entertainment with a twist. It can bum you out sometimes....but their is alsways some type of fun to it.

Adam- - Most of our records can be found online… google that shit. The future… same as it ever was.

Scotty- -More records, More shows, Skanky cheerleaders who suffer from borderline personality disorders and daddy problems

Drew - it's both a lifestyle and machine that will never ever end.....ever

Sean- - alot more records and free boozes

Scotty - All of the above and some.

Drew- Skateboarding

What inspires you to continue to do the band and do you prefer all-ages or bar shows?

Have you ever been stalked?

Adam-For the same reason you never stop masturbating. All-ages shows always seem

Drew- Sean stalks Adam an Adam stalks Sean

Sean- Yeah everyday by Adam....he calls me and emails....plus that fucker use google maps to find out where I am at all times. He a little Fatal Attraction.

Adam-Yes, by Sean‌ a lot Scott- define Stalk Do punk rock girls tend to suffer from borderline personality disorder in your experience?

Adam- Hell yeah they do‌ I married one.

She rules though, just don't fuck with her, she will cut you Scott- hahaha, i think i know one or two...

Sean- They all do....some of them are fun Any final words to add? Thank you and cheers!

Adam- When are we playing with The Prostitutes???

Sean- yeah Kevin....what's up with that?

Kevin- on my next downward spiral, we will have to wait and see if the Prostitutes ever exist again, thanks guys!

When I saw an advertisement in MRR for The Spent Idols… I knew right away I would love them… I put money… Real money in an envelope and ordered the cassettes… This was a day and age where you could still do such a thing… Eventually, in a dirty basement in Cincinnati I would meet Mike and The Spent Idols and actually play a show with them there, in that one place that they bulldozed to make way for a CVS.. Yeah, that one spot where the sewers backed up in the basement where the bands played… Then, a night later… In Cleveland… But that’s another story.

Questions by Shawn Abnoxious (SA) for FLILB Answers by Mike Spent (MS) SA: I don’t know the story so I must ask. What happened to The Spent Idols? Shut-in's everywhere wanna know!

MS: The end was in Hollywood at the Flipside gig April 1997 I said no more after that gig… I reformed in 2003 with Daniel (dNIle) and did 2 shows with 2 original members in 2004 now in July 2012 I started rag tagged LAST YEARS HEROES (LYH) SA: I thought the [SPENT] IDOLS lasted into the '00's... The Spent Idols had a lot of momentum and labels interested. You had stuff released by Incognito Records from Germany... What was the catalyst to cause that ending?

MS: I'm against corporatism and commercialism. I never felt a member of society or normality I like underground hard to find not poison for the masses. I truly wanted revolution to revive DIY not join in on Lollapalooza and street fairs etc I hate Corpo-America I'm a musical revolutionary underground. No sell out… I want to be my own master. Pride. Honestly I hate consumerism they wanted me to be Green Day etc I said eat sand I put my pants on one leg at a time just like the rulers do I do not measure success in the same manner as society. I want to affect one guy not masses honestly. I relate to Shawn Abnoxious not Paris Hilton SA: Despite my robust figure and declining health its good to know I got Paris Hilton beat in at least one department! If I remember correctly (I still have my Spent Idols cassettes) your work in 95-96 with the Spents [Idols] was a reassertion of you into punk-rock... Who exactly is 'They' you mentioned in the last answer?

MS: The people who need the bands. The club owners who know the national and international promoters who can book BIG events and the corporations that fund the festivals and promote the events and bands. The cash cow is the "they" SA: So, you feel that bands, even punk-rock bands playing every shithole they can find are exploited and manipulated on a larger level?

MS: I think the persons inside these bands are as vulnerable as anyone else in that sense and are corrupt able by the powers that control the music release business. You can start with ideals goals etc but the carrot of success is blinding.

SA: Wow. I must note that this last exchange transpired at approx. 8:50 am (EST- In the 1st Midwest) that means it’s pushing 6 am on your coast. Are you up late or are you an 'early bird' Mike?

MS: Both. Actually really sick and weird schedule going down.

SA: 6 am here (Cincinnati, Ohio) is like 'farmer time' you up feeding the chickens? Talking to corn-stalks?

MS: Lying here miserable cant sleep. Coughing. 3rd time sick in as many months SA: Misery is a real motherfucker.

MS: Yes it is Shawn but what is worst is the fact this fricken flu won't leave me alone SA: Shit... You got the flu? Always SOMETHING going around these days. Even Las Years Heroes get sick I suppose…

MS: Yep no super hero here SA: I like to hear different persons ideas of what success is. You wanna state your case?

MS: I measure success by integrity did I stay honest too myself in all endeavors.

SA: Have you stayed honest to yourself? What keeps Mike Spent 'in-check'?

MS: Yes I have It's the same now as it was in 1981 I play to upset and mess with the status quo to get my YaYa’s out.

SA: 1981-2013 and no difference? Are things THAT stagnant?

MS: Yep to me they are I never was a scenester more like a sniper. Punk has always been fragmented cool guys are cool guys I've never been a cool guy not too say I'm not cool though.

SA: As with success I suppose being cool is also defined person to person... I’m gonna move on from talk of THE SPENT IDOLS to your current project LYH... but I feel there’s something not being said about the Idols that maybe should be said. I note a certain vagueness about it. I don’t mean to harp but are you sure there isn’t something more to add about your Spent Idols era?

MS: I agree this first part will truly alienate people… Let's get interesting! Shawn I'm enjoying this great to pick up with you again after all these years.

SA: I want you to 'get deep' about the rise and fall of The Spent Idols before we tackle what you got going with LYH. Last chance... Cause LYH kinda seem like a SPENT IDOLS continuing which I’m totally ok with. The Idols was the soundtrack to many drunks, highs and all around good times.

MS: Ok I'm game deep inside I feel it just don't want to bum out LETs DO IT

SA: It’s already started... I’m prying your mind... Why did the Spent Idols stop back in '97?

There was some momentum and label attention with the band. You were touring. What happened?

MS: There had been the whole time. Vans wanted us for Warp Tour. Said we inspired it! They wanted a Mike Spent tennie. I told them pink tiger fur they said no! Tried to get me to go with a red black tame model like most do! I said I don’t wear vans! Lots of interest! Lots of suggestions for normality I said no! White noise tracks on recordings I said no! Lo-fi live raw one take mistakes, outta key, muddy annoying tone. I wanted people to revolt not get stoned and rock out! I wanted blood! Bloody ears! Bitterness! Mayhem. I still don’t care wish I had some better love from the masses but I'm ok I do it for me! Not for you! If you get it great if not...

Next! Shawn u got it!!! I didn’t realize the effect I had on some how we looked too the outside! I didn’t and still don’t care! I like pal who can’t play well that it’s new! I like retard rock! Dummy up get stupid get real. FTW is my mantra. Fuck the radio fuck stardom fuck success if it happens very cool but its not the goal the goal is to rawk out upset and destroy status quo even if its the punk status quo! I hate despise insiders cool guys owners poseurs hipsters I truly do! I want to spit on them and cuss them out I hate football and beer joints! I hate barflies and trendies! I want to piss you off wake them up rattle the monkey cage!

SA: The Spent Idols WERE a great band... Is LYH a continuation of the Idols i.e. the song LYH? There is a relation.

MS: I never fit in! And never wanted too! Am I a nice guy sure I am! Do I like society? Hell no! Do I want too be a part of it? Nope. I want to be an example of outsider life a living breathing work of art a life as a canvas as being my own man! Is it easy? No. Does it hurt? At times! Do I wish I ‘sold out’?? Sometimes. Am I glad I didn’t try harder? It was balls out till the end! In 97! SUCK ON THESE BALLS WORLD! GO FOR IT!!! Every 10 years another go at it 82/92/02/12 FLY LOW FLY FAST DROP PAYLOAD SPLIT SA: Recently when you were in the formation stages of LYH you emphasized COMMITTMENT not ABILITY. Does commitment outweigh ability?

MS: That’s all I request! No rock gods no guitar heroes wanted just balls out get sweaty and punk out! On a regular basis SA: Self-admitting, you said you been going since '78 and hammering every 10 years or so. How has things changed from '78 to now in the formation stages of LYH? MS: It hasn’t in the 70-80s it was cut yer hair now its shave the moustache the scene too me has always sucked the bands the clubs too me nothing changed! Disco grunge now emo scene still sucks ppl still trying to find themselves… Be different, but sadly they fail! Pick a style and own it! Ppl stop trying to impress fellow losers at the juke dive! Pathetic fave band now?? Off! Fave in the 70s: Pistols 90s: DeeDee Ramone 80s: Ramones!

SA: I’m switching gears from Spent Idols to LYH now. I wouldn’t mind contacting him for some accompanying info if he is on fB... How 'different' is LYH than The Spent Idols?

MS: Well its slower paced sound moldy oldies reformed rewritten in 2003 and new stuff too unreleased Spents and a new song too! Its cool.

SA: So is LYH just a new Spent Idols then? In essence?

MS: In a sense yes it is. We are using old songs and unreleased newer stuff thigh its not cashing in our old phase I want it too be diff and fresh but pure punk a Lil more Slaughter & Dogs feel… ͒Less glitz more grit SA: In building or rebuilding LYH (depending on how you look at it) has your vision for what you think is punk-rock in 2013 been fulfilled? Is 'it' Now a ‘new punk-rock’ were dealing with?

MS: Nope the scene is so emo in Dago [San Diego]. So polite reserved cautious cool cat…

SA: Gasp! Have LYH gone EMO?

MS: Emo crowd for sure! I'm still splitting and cussing. When I reformed in 92 it was a new band new songs from Spent Idol. Well, LYH is the same. It's not Spent Idols, yet it is its own band. It's just not as cut and dry as it seems. On one hand it's the incarnation of Spent Idols; on the other is it's own beast. The only thing constant is this one-trick pony Mike Spent. The bass lines are diff’. The guitar work; rawer more refined but rawer. Spent Idols was a conglomeration of many bands musically. LYH is a new attack on Spent Idols. It's a band based on Spent Idols and not more. Its influence is Spent Idols, Thin Lizzy, Slaughter and the Dogs-- More directed in attack but just as sloppy… A Lil less lousy. I call it old wave. I had burnt outta punk by 1982. It morphed into a violence kind of metal and I despised arena a rock at the time. When I reformed the band in 1992 I wanted too create my ultimate punk band. The band I wished existed a conglomeration of my faves rolled into one. Now with LYH. It's a band based on Spent Idols...

SA: Did you attain all of LYH the same way you found a guitar player? An emphasis on ATTITUDE over ABILITY? MS: We found Joshy Capes our first gig was a disaster and the guitarist quit after being confronted on his asinine behavior on stage, So long time friend and fan got us Joshy too fill in Joshy liked the songs and has jammed ever since I love Joshy great dude from on band Drunk Punking Idiots the band SA: Who else makes up LYH line up? Give the readers of FEAR AND LOATHING IN LB the dirty lowdown.

MS: Rene on drums long time fan Ryan on bass his pops was bassist for Ricky Nelson Shawn ever member but me are gonna be dads this year Rene in 7 months Ryan in 3 Joshy in 7 months SA: Seems kinda like a sci-fi movie plot. New clones for the war(s)... Who in the shit is this so called 'Ricky Nelson' character? Sounds like a drug pusher to me.

MS: Just weird back-story stuff the kid on bass is a great player and uses his pops bass that's been all around the world ECT. SA: I think a past manager I had at a manufacturing facility I worked at said that 'Around the world' was a sex act available in a brothel he frequented... LYH are pretty active aren’t you?

Lots of shows and good times... With all the members except you facing parenthood is LYH heading 99mph down a dead end?

MS: I will be 53 this year so the end is near I wanna go out in a blaze of glory SA: So you recognize the end? Are you LAST YEATS HERO or a MODERN DAY ZERO? Your statement almost sounds suicidal.

MS: I'm the same guy I was in 1978 or 1993 an outsider who loves punk music I play for me too express my self not to impress or be a part of a movement I don't care what I appear as I don't like festivals and punk rock theme bowling etc I prefer the legend over star aspect I'm not part of the capitalist system I'm an anarchist a drop out a rock in the stream of this so called life we live I don't care if I'm popular or cool if you get me that's great I'm no scenester or pop icon I'm underground the real deal I have lived like this since the 70s I jam for me not anyone else I like it too me that's why I do it SA: Getting back on point then… How much of LYH is older Spent Idols material and how much is totally new stuff?

MS: What anybody sees from the outside looking doesn't matter too me I'm cool with me I wish there were more ppl like me out there sometimes I feel like David vs. Goliath I'm not about showing off I don't like fm radio the Internet etc I don't like produced media I like live raw and crude I don't consider myself a singer. I'm a frontman an aging one so he end is near! That's what I meant. It's 50/50 the newest song is neurotic mess written in 1982 never practiced by spent idols a forgotten song it's finally being played live we end our set with it I updated it when DeeDee passed away as homage to him and 35 years later it's live we have recorded a demo but it's not finished yet its on the demo and can be heard live on FB & YouTube MS: In away it's all old material I have written over 100 songs since 1982 but so far only played or recorded 30 or so. Stolen heart is newer total glory there's a new one called I don't care we r working on now

SA: Nearing the end of this interview you brought up something I wanna ask... Can 'we' expect any vinyl or CDs from LYH anytime soon?

MS: Yes there's a label in Portland that wants us as the first release hence the demo. It's the bassist friend label honestly I don't know much about it but agreed to do it. We need to ad backing vocals too it and that's it me living in Mexico is like crossing a Berlin Wall so playing with Americans in a band is daunting the crossing and interrogations by the Feds blows they are a royal pain in the ass. So it's a slow process we want to play in Mexico cause its way more real here more life in the streets vs. America no welfare sis life's tougher here I'm jonseing to play here I think revolution could occurs here musically and I'm a revolutionist.

SA: Does the militarized borders add some desperation and angst to your vision of what LYH is and will be?

MS: Yes it's honestly ridiculous to cross it only is poor have borders the powers that be are free to pillage it pisses me off I hate to visit USA it's so fricken difficult to cross it royally pisses me off u gotta put on that happy face or they will arrest you it's a fed zone so military law not civilian law is in play there they could rendition you if they feel u r a threat to national security I have had them grab the guns at me before. So I smile and stay calm or Uncle Sam can make it even worst or deny you entrance to good ole America or prison it's truly ez to get in trouble crossing it serious trouble since 911.

SA: Closing statement from you... Any last words?

MS: I'm not dead yet and I'm not going away either

(BABYLON LION) POEM FOR THE END OF THE WORLD

by Shawn Abnoxious (For Will Shatter)

The Boom War settles in for a squeaky ride with the long con.

In another warped reality, simultaneously...

The Space Shuttle Columbia commits suicide over Texas.

Embedded Mayans cheer from every Outlet Mall past, present and immediate future.

Whatever that means.

Their apocalypse was our wish upon a dying neutron star(s) time...

They laugh with wide grins as they carve out another heart from the chest of complacency.

Flipper is at 11 as yet another crispy hot-dog is eaten in the name of heroes everywhere.

You have two days to get a knife in your pocket.

Because one day...

Maybe sooner than later...

I may ask you to cut me free from restraints.

The same way my grandpa asked me to do the same for him.

When he was on his deathbed...

I let my grandfather down that day.

He lay there shackled...

Confused...

Disappointed...

Waiting for a hero...

A hero that never came...

Until his death.

Sometimes you gotta not only aim high, But you gotta maintain that high... ... Stay high... whew.

If you listen closely you can hear the The Babylon Lion purring...

Like how a satisfied kitten with a full belly of milk would purr...

In these fractured faltering times just before the end...

When things are getting more and more fucky...

You declare that this time is the last time. ...For anything. ...For everything.

Its time to get your shit together...

Whatever that means...

Get straight and drink some rye whiskey.

Its time now motherfucker!

Really, it’s far past time.

Because...

In the Boom War you'll find that the secret machinery and all the notes that’s been left behind reveals that a battle once occurred here.

Clues...

A battle will be here again.

Soon.

Your only friend, is the blazing hum of fluorescent lighting that fills rooms with the false sense of safety.

Whatever that means.

Multi-colored warnings abstract your eyes and thoughts.

Continuously.

Blindness is the end result.

Attempts to hermetically seal the kingdom awards the appropriate boundaries needed to finally devour itself under glorious domes of perfection.

All at once, false promises of immediate revolutions swarm the living.

You gotta keep the pressure on...

Stay *high*

The landscape breathes Hard, laborious shallow breaths....

The end is sooner than once thought or ever, ever imagined.

The long con stings.

The year 2000 was once somebody’s future...

Whatever that means.

The year 2000 is still someone’s future.

If that counts for anything.

Waiting patiently For ‘it’ to arrive.

Now...

Again...

After all of the fights and various lines both bad and good times...

After all the attempts to make society your hostage.

Suddenly...

Abruptly...

You realize...

You are the hostage!

It's said that fluorescent lighting will kill you dead...

Maybe it already has...

You are a consumer zombie with a pocket full of cash and a head full of dreams.

A flesh machine with an instruction manual in three different languages.

The Boom War settles in...

Turns around clockwise three times before laying down.

Gets itself comfortable...

For the long wait.

When I die Please feel free To burn my body...

Throw my ashes in the creek...

You know, That one creek next to the intestate that’s full of trash.

Do it as all the traffic drives pass...

Do it...

Along with all of my knives.

I will get to where I need to be.

I promise.

Whatever that means...

Death is a cruel, twisted, mean dirty motherfucker.

Death always wins in the bitter end.

Smile deeply...

It’s the brand new trend...

Watching the world dying in slow motion...

Under the moonlight of a green moon...

While the unicorns cry and the swooners swoon.

Talk one table over Reaches your contemptuous ear...

Sounds like a terrorist has settled once again for a buy one get one Chicken dinner entree...

Yes, with an extra biscuit... (of course) Circle takes the square for a hairline win.

FEAR does it again!

Over in a flash...

What has never had a chance to begin now finds a quiet end.

The Mayan apocalypse that we promised ourselves is running a bit behind schedule.

Whatever that means.

The bus stops are all empty today.

So are the dream reservoirs.

The fight has already been won.

So said the Babylon Lion.

The dreaded feeling of slaving to the bar for a 6 a.m. opening to avoid the shakes and bad recollections of the night before while having profound conversations with the morning comers is captured perfectly in the atmosphere of self-deconstruction and violent flirtations with reality and the unreality.

Redfern’s writing style is gritty commentary and surrealism in a powder keg that pours easily like a box of cheap wine. This red wine is of the highest caliber and always maintains a relationship between the author and reader while allowing free thought to formulate the ideas and societal study of the novel. J.G. has been in correspondence quite regularly with me and is one of the super talented authors I have come across in the exploding world of digital publishing.

Enter the world of J.G Redfern’s Hecatomb, a novel that I have been reading and re-reading over the past couple of weeks. A certain appeal about writing for me is the ability to sink into a book with any order of chapters that I choose, and this collection of 100, yes 100 chapters, provide a beautiful and demonic barrage of “buried memory” ignition for the reader. With jarring cerebral cortex vignettes of human behavior past, present, and future, suspicious actions and reactions take place in surreal slaughterhouses, mortuaries, seedy bar bantering, cheap religious devotion, and blissful character confusion. 221 pages of easily digestible eavesdropping on the corners and getaways we inhabit.

The novel conjures up a Venn diagram of my own life: checking out girls while failing Latin in Junior High, driving back roads aimlessly(with bottle in tow) as a teenager, and crashing into reenforced glass as an adult trying to establish maintain romantic relationships while continually investing in my own seediness. In looking at the definition of Hecatomb and reading the blood soaked scripture, my own life has had a severe sacrificing of victims in order to appease the sleazy compulsions that keep me alive.

When I first came to California via Santa Barbra courtesy of a female acquaintance, I had only met “virtually” about 2 weeks before. I remember sleeping in a car on some nights and in a construction trailer once I began work, lifting these heavy ass fences for some bullshit condominium project. It was through rent-adrunk and I was getting minimum wage.

Eventually enough to cruise to Long Beach but at the time had befriended an ex-con at the job

site. He showed me where to sleep on the site and where to cash my “end of the day” temp check while picking up 2 fifths of Gordon’s and a pack of Maverick full flavor smokes.

I think his name was Eddie, for all I know he was on the run and buying time, just like me.

One night while I was planning to escape the ungodly site of Oprah’s mansion and overwhelming displays of wealth, I smoked a joint with Eddie and drank myself wildly into the drink. He told me that in Santa Barbra, any plant in the world could grow and having that kind of adaptability was total freedom. I was staring into the clear night sky and just gazing on the stars and thinking, that’s crazy man, I’m sitting in the tall grass looking at the California sky without a care in the world for where I will go next or what came before this moment. I guess it’s true what they say about California weed, or maybe the highness is being totally free to breathe in the night and go wherever you want to. This subtle memory leads me to the dirty luster of Erica Case, music rebel and role model for a new generation.

Erica Case is back after last years sophisticated punk/pop rock outing of “Gimme Some”. In fact, she was featured in our first issue after I stumbled across this Southern Belle of Punk Rock n Roll on Sound Cloud. What I love about Erica is the way she transitions vocal notes in a unique fashion that is all her own, whether it’s on one of her home recordings or studio outings.

A sultry connection of melody is firmly intact with this young woman and her vicious musical assaults that consist of her guitar, keyboard, and vocal hammers of bitter sweetness. A complaint I have with other female singers in this genre is blatant Gaga imitation and the James Hetfield like screamers, doesn’t get me going.

Her latest outing takes advantage of the “full album” phenomena that is rampant on YouTube, which I love. Most concrete walkers use their smart phones as their primary portal to music, entertainment, fashion, and personal connections as they walk out the door every day.

Online heavy music site, NME, has carried her own version of the Ramones classic and life altering, for some of us, Road to Ruin from the frenzied year of 1978. All tracks are worth many listens. To really sum up this experience, get in bed with "I Just Want to Have Something to Do", "Don't Come Close", "Go Mental", and "It's a Long Way Back".

After my complete disgust with the Billboard Music awards, sorry folks but none of that shit counts as fucking music in my book, I came across Erica’s path again. Unlike other artists out there, this girl rocks like there’s no tomorrow, wears her heart on her sleeve, and really doesn’t give a damn whether you care for it or not. That’s my kind of lady. Sweet Southern Venom oozes through these covers while staying true to the original compositions of the late great Ramones. I think I need to arrange a trip to Tennessee again and soak in the subterranean skyline.

Susan Surftone is no stranger to our proceedings here. Her new album “Too Far” redefines surf guitar for a new generation with a sexual bombast of guitar slinging and Watusi beats that makes one hunger for a dangerous and lustful summer. With go- go dancer extraordinaire, Seana Steele and the precise smash-bop of drummer Steve Kravac, this release gets your inhibitions feeling loose while filling the libido with plenty of edgy surf-pop damaged

soundscapes. The synergy of sunshine and dark night clubs lights up the murky alleyway in the world of Susan’s song structures that rock and shake with a fun and sinister swagger. I am desperately seeking more bands like this in 2013.

“Start Again” has a psycho-syncopated beat with a bouncy chord pulse to numb your problems away in. The infectious riffing and aloof sense of direction get this reviewer’s motor fired up.

“Rock Candy” and “Navy Grog” give a darker, unassumingly menacing bite to them and provide a great way to introduce yourself to the Surftone experience (if you want to jump in the deep end without feeling how cold the water is first). Fuck caution, it’s almost summer, and this psychedelic trip of modern surf dance will hold you hostage, whether you like it or not.

The band interlocks with some very tasteful odes to new wave and power pop, not to mention some overdriven British Invasion stylings for good measure. Instrumental records are meaningless nowadays for the most part BUT this one has had my pulse on overdrive from over a week of non-stop airplay on my headphones. The punk influenced title track, “Too Far”, is my personal favorite as it just snakes around the eardrums with its addictive detonations of troubled melody.

The new record is coming in July of 2013, so I want you to be “in the know”, as I’m sure Susan and Seana are coming to a city near YOU to finish what they started. On Susan’s site you can hear her new track “Navy Grog” and check the latest happenings. I fully endorse this surf-rock damage courtesy of Portland, Oregon. If they lived in Long Beach, I would be hanging out in their garage every night listening to rehearsals.

Who knows? They would be a welcome addition to our wild city’s personalities and independent talent.

The Copper Gamins latest release on the infamous Saustex record label is quite a monster, the kind that keeps you drinking from 8 am until 3 am the following day. With the openers of the crazed “All Hid” and “oh Well Well”, an almost “Wipers” like feel of dread that is cut with contagious fuzz gets injected into your bloodstream as the alcohol level rises, claustrophobia ensues, and a fuck all attitude will be your tour guide through these distorted and eerily deliberate assaults on your senses.

You can hear the guitar string being strummed for every last ounce of fuzz in your eardrum like going around a bar at 1:45 and drinking everyone’s half emptied booze vessels.

My two picks for repeated A.D.D listening are “Hold my Name” and “Nightingale”. Both of these sonic manifestos hold you in a state of suspended animation like a three-day coke bender that keeps getting worse with the uglier aspects of life becoming more beautiful by the second. Feel the tempting taste of complete toxicity in your mouth while that crazy, maybe homicidal girl, cradles you into a booze and Quaalude state of the manic unrepentant blues with a nice shot of cheap perfume.

By all means check out the new record by this deranged and super talented duo who were originally from the mining cities of Metepec and Zinacantepec near Mexico city. Very impressive credentials, when you are talking about revolutionary blues destruction from the real

deal. Right here, right now. Listen to the truth and turn off your TV, for just a second. You might not want to come back from this bender of blissful torment that ignites blues-punk and takes it to unheard of heart-attack inducing levels.

The subject of this week’s review comes courtesy of Texas, I can’t think of a better place to make dirty music permeate from booze soaked barroom floors. I was thinking to myself the other day, man this whole music thing is getting a bit stripped and raw, like fast, to a welcoming audience (for once), kind of like depression era music. Well, no shit man, we are in a depression and Churchwood’s latest offering of “2” lets the sounds of confusion and blues country swamp fry your brain like it’s going out of style.

The band itself, like so many have tried to do, managed to land a spot on the infamous “Sons of Anarchy” series at a time when getting “song placement” to shred a bare existence seems relegated to Modest Mouse sound-alikes doing it with enough extra protection to avoid unwanted pregnancies in the Vampire Diaries crowd. I’ve been examining and soaking in the latest release this past week which has been filled with many Long Beach hiccups of indecision and turmoil.

THIS is where the party is at if you’ve got the ears and reckless soul for some backroom hustle with a loose bumping n grind.

The track “Duende” kicks off this outing with an MC5 inspired rhythmic cacophony, Highway 61 grittiness, and the vocal urgency of Hank Williams drowning to death in his own vomit.

“Keels Be Damned” follows this one up with Texan Goth Country Vibe. It’s always an awesome listening experience to hear cool musical experimentation that doesn’t pride itself on pretension but uses emotion and moodiness to dictate its slightly unfocused shape of aural pleasure.

“I have a devil in me” pretty much sums up the swamp you’re taking a midnight swim through in “Churchwood 2”. When listening to the entire epic of this full length, MC5’s “Skunk” keeps pulling at me as a starting point listening wise for the uninitiated. The proceedings end with the haunting and gritty pseudo balladry of “New Moon”. The intro riff and chording are quite great, flowing with the breeze of contact high smoke and the mental imprint of condensation rings left on the wooden bar from long days of hard drinking and contemplating the meaning of the outside world’s annoyances and nuances. –

K.M

I saw The Replacements back in August of 1983 playing at Grinnell College, a small liberal arts college in Iowa, where I had just begun my undergraduate studies. There was a kid from Minneapolis, Lief, a fellow freshmen, running around, all wired up, talking about how The Replacements were the best rock 'n' roll band ever to plug in. At the time, the band ranged in age from 14 to 19 (I believe). We were all stoked.

They were to play on a plywood stage, put together in the center of a grass playing field at the college. Very intimate show; there couldn't have been more than a couple hundred of us around the stage waiting. Being 1983, Hootenanny had just come out and Let It Be was in the works. A music store in town delivered their instruments and sound equipment, all of it rented. Finally, they show up. They are all visibly drunk, laughing, smoking, stumbling around. They climb up on stage and try to tune up. Bob Stinson plugs in and starts ripping on the guitar. Mars tries to find a beat. Paul tries to get it under control. They try several times to make it through a song, but they're all too fucked up to get it together. Bob takes off his guitar and starts pissing off the side of the stage. Tommy and Mars start fucking around, kicking in the drums. The cops are called in and The Replacements are arrested. We were all laughing, but nevertheless bummed out.

Lief was almost in tears.

42. Land Ho! He locked himself in the garage, space heater at his heels. It was rightly cold outside. The wind was howling, and there was frost in the air. He had wrapped the pipes earlier, just before he got into a row with his wife. Same old argument, only the surface particulars kept changing to provide serration to carve away at the edges of the soul, slicing right down to the nerve, and there is no pain for a man quite like that of his wife’s voice carving into the soul nerve with the serrated blade of marital disharmony.

“I’m not just some maid to scrub your toilets and make your dinner so you can throw our money away. That’s not how you do business. You work with soul contracts all day, and you do this? That’s business one-oh-one. It’s religion one-oh-one. What’s wrong with you?”

He hadn’t said a word. He just turned and walked away, closing the door behind him. He went down the porch steps and across the driveway to the garage. He opened the door, went in, pulled it down behind him and padlocked it closed from the inside. He sat down at his workbench and turned on the desk lamp, addressing his latest construction. There was a bottle lying on its side, held steady by brackets screwed into the top of the workbench. Next to the workbench there was an old refrigerator.

He reached over and pulled out two cans of beer. There was a stockpile of canned beans on one of the shelves and a bag of weed hidden in a dusty box of books. He had all he needed.

He cracked open one of the beers and addressed his work. This was a very ambitious project: a historically accurate clipper ship from the Spanish Armada in a 750 ml bottle. Pulling the bulb in closer, he examined the previous night’s work. He slugged down the first beer and cracked open the second.

“Yeah, run and hide, momma’s boy! Is your mommy in there?” he heard her screaming from the driveway as she pounded on the garage door, her teeth and mouth stained purple with wine. “Get outta there, you fucker!”

He got two more beers and didn’t say a word. Then, he got right down to work and before too long, she was gone. On the shelf immediately in front of him were six old pipes, standing in a rack. They were his grandfather’s pipes, and whenever he burned a bud, no matter how much he cleaned out the pipes, he could always taste the cherry tobacco from his childhood. Under the warm light, his fingers worked a tiny needle and thread through a tiny spinnaker. He held the sail steady with a pair of tweezers. When he finished up the bottom edge, he tied off his knot, cut the thread, and dug through the books for the weed. He loaded one of the pipes ―the one with a black club inlaid into the ivory― and smoked a

generous cherry-stained bowl. Soon, he was stoned, generously and gratefully and paradoxically and completely stoned. He took up the needle. He put it down and moved a large magnifying glass on a stand into the smoky light. He opened one of the beers, repositioned the glass in the light, and took up the needle again. He put it down again, drank half the beer, picked it back up and got down to work, sewing the long edge of the spinnaker. Tiny little needle, tiny little stitches, two-and-a-half per millimeter. He turned on a small, paint-splattered radio, and got back to the sewing. That was the last spinnaker, and that last spinnaker was the last piece. When the sewing was done and the last knot tied off, he attached thread lines to all three corners and slipped the spinnaker through the bottle’s neck at the business end of an impossibly long pair of tweezers. With another pair of similar tweezers, he tied the spinnaker into position with a surgical precision usually reserved for neural axons in the brain near the fringes of the soul.

All done. He sat back temporarily satisfied. He finished his beers, smoked another bowl, and looked down at the glorious, bottle-bound clipper ship, The Ball & Chain. Marveling at the craftsmanship ―a craftsmanship he found it hard to believe was his own―, he took a cork from a box at the back of the top shelf. He fondled the cork for much longer than necessary, appreciating the thousands of little tasks needed to recreate this slice of nautical history, nay, human history. He took a deep breath and checked all the empty beer cans for one last forgotten swig.

Then, with a heavy sigh, he slipped the cork into its hole, twisting it snugly into place. A tear tried to slip out over an eyelid, but he beat it back down. Standing, he staggered over to the padlock. He worked the combo three or four times until he found its release. He slipped off the lock and opened up the door.

Pausing to breathe in the night’s cold air, he looked up to the stars, imagining he was charged with the navigation of a clipper ship across the open seas, plotting a course across the surface of the globe with the subtle compass of the constellations. He went over to the roses, unzipped himself and emptied out his bladder, still looking up at the stars.

He went back into the garage, turned up the radio, cracked open another beer, and carefully lifted up the newly finished ship in a bottle. With a beer in one hand and a world in a bottle in the other, he walked back out into the darkness.

“Land Ho!” he mumbled to himself and wound up like Satchel Paige. Then, he uncoiled his middleaged frame and its muscles long, and let the bottle fly against side of the stuccoed garage. All of it shattered and rained down, joining a skeletal pile of older shipwrecks. He took a slug of beer and went back into the garage, pulling down the door and locking himself inside again.

The dogs in the

neighborhood began to howl, barking in frightened confusion, just like people, just like all of you, everywhere.

My Afro Punk Experience

by Rosita Adams Afro Punk 2012 – Janelle Monae will now give me nightmares. Saturday afternoon I took off to New York to go to the free Afro Punk Festival in Brooklyn. I missed out on Saturday concert because I left my house too late, had gotten a bit distracted in Manhattan, and I had NO idea where Commodore Barry Park was. I had gotten lost in around the downtown area, until I asked a Jamaican guy who was sitting down with his guitar in a remote area around Fulton Street. He walked with me (I think he followed me when I was getting a soda at a near by bodega because as soon as I was out the store he shouted out for me saying that I was going in the wrong direction for the festival.) to Commodore Park where everybody was leaving, because it was over when I arrived around 9:30 pm. I met my friend Thaddeus through the crowd of people that was leaving the park. He told me how cool the concert was and how Erica Badu and a shit load of bands was playing at the Afro Punk concert. I wanted to kick my own ass for wasting so much time, and on missing out on Erica Badu, one of my favorite music artist out of this entire concert.

I told Thaddeus that I wasn't going to miss Sunday concert for the world, because Gym Class Heroes were suppose to play in Sunday's concert. Gym Class Heroes never showed up for Sunday's concert, the bastards. Anyway, I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge that night, taking a few shots with my Holga Camera, walking around Wall Street and waiting out the night in a blue canvas chairs with the Occupy Wall Streeters in front of Trinity Church. I sat a few inches away from the police standing by their police cars that's assigned to watch the area. I only had less then 15 bucks in my pocket, and that's not enough to pay for a hostel for the night. Beside I was safe anyway because of the police protecting the area around a well lit Trinity Church. So I waited out the night.

At 5 in the morning I went to McDonald's for breakfast, walked up from Wall Street all the way up to 45 street to stop at the public library to check my e-mail. The concert started at noon and it was still early for me to pass time at the one place where I can feel a bit of sanity for a while. I like dive bars, and I should have gone to one that night instead of hanging around Trinity Church, but I was too tired to go to any bar, and I didn't feel like getting up when I planted myself in that canvas chair. While walking up Mid Town there was a Palestine Parade that was about to take place at in mid town. I took a few pictures of the floats that was parked on the street and a guy dressed in a strange white garb. There were so many Palestinians that were excited about their parade and I would've been too, but I had other things on my mind. So I waited out my time at the New York Public Library until 12. I read in the paper that there was going to be a “National Breast Day” where women of all kind get to flaunt their breasts around Bryant Park for some kind of charity. I made sure I had my cameras so I can take a shit load of pictures and might as well, New York is a hell of a city. When I went to Bryant Park, nobody was flaunting or showing boobs. There were a few sun bathers lying on the grass in the middle of the park, while others looked on in their seats taking on the low 80 degree weather. So no pics and I was once again wasting my own time for the Afro Punk Fest. So I put my Holga away in my shoulder bag and headed off to the next train to Commodore Park to rock on with my day. As soon as I had gotten to the Afro Punk festival there were exotic food trucks parked on the outskirts of the festival, serving food and passing out beer and whatever drink that was being paid for. I didn't want anything because I had my morning breakfast and coffee that day. As soon as got into one of the Afro Punk tent, it wasn't that many people there.

There was two sides to this festival. One side where independent bands played, over 80 different market tents were plotted up in what seem like the middle or back end of the park, while the other side was the “Red Stage” where all the big bands played, skaters were doing their skating tricks on boards in a one-time skater park, and more tent merchant stores along the way as well as tents for sponsors that helped pay for the free concert; Nike and Vitamin Water were a few of the main sponsors. There was a BMX bike show that seem like it wasn't being paid much attention to, and of course swag. Free stuff galore if you know where to look. I went to the independent stage where a band that I don't know was belting out songs and playing their ass off, then went film the skate boarders at the ramp where after the boarding competition ended there was a mini rap concert at the ramp. After that show I went to the Red Stage where DJ EZ Breezy and another DJ were playing mixes and

reeving up the crowd in to a frenzy. I love all of the songs that the DJ's were playing and I was at the very front of the concert.

There was a guy behind me singing almost every rap song that the DJ's busted out, people in the crown pushing their way in and out, while photographers took pictures at the stage. It was crazy. The first band Bad Rabbit was doing it's thing and going by it's “rabbit” name when the lead singer jumped all over the stage as well as bouncing on to his band members.

Straight Line Stitch rocked completely. There were two shows, one on stage where the lead singer was screaming her voice out and the other in the audience when fans were dancing some kind of angry/mosh dance. It was amazing. I caught some of “Stitch” act on my camera phone, even though it was running out of power. Then there was the DJ's entertaining the crowd after Straight Line Stitch played a great show. The announcer 'Melissha', the chick with the pink fluffy hair, dressed in a tight black uni tard covered with spikes, announces that Gym Class Heros wouldn't be able to make it at the show at all because one of the band members had gotten sick. That disappointed a lot of people who wanted to see GCH front man Travis. Melissha made sure to give GCH's website so the audience can complain about the whole situation. Anyway after making that announcement Melissha threw out some candy bars and towels into the crowd, made some more announcements then introduced quasi alternative music superstar Pherrell. I took a two good shots of Pherrell before my camera died out, then that was it for the rest of the concert with my camera phone (The next time I wont forget to bring my phone charger to something great as this. There are so many people who kept their camera phone out, while I had to keep mine in my pocket because it was out of juice.) for the rest of the night. After Pherrell introduced his phenom singer Janelle Monae, that's when the crowd started to get tighter. Everybody on stage was dressed down in black and white, the theme of the show was new age, space, alien from mars...something. Miss Janelle gave a snazzy performance, dancing and singing, however I feel her lead guitarist gave even more of a stunning act with his black guitar. The day is dying down to night, and I'm feeling more flesh on my flesh than I want, while taking in armpit smells and the pushing bastards around me. There was a part of the show where Janelle threw a towel into the crowd – at my direction – and I caught that stupid towel. I was thinking of selling it on Ebay...nah.

Despite it all that wasn't part of the show that tripped me out and made the audience annoyed by me. It was the part when the singer had the audience crouch low to go with her act. Everybody on stage either laid down or bend low, as did people in the crowd. I tried to

but couldn't. That was the part that got everybody's goat. 'Bend down' they would tell me, and I did. In fact I was using some guy's leg for support so I can keep down a bit, although I could feel my knees start to buckle, the crowd was way too close to make me claustrophobic, and I felt that I couldn't breathe. If someone in the audience had gotten up in the middle of the act to block my view, I would be pissed off too. So I got up. I told people around me that I “can't� bend down, at least not so low. The second time Janelle beckons the audience, because there were some that also stood up too, to bend low. So I made a second attempt, this time not so low. As soon as the music shot up so did the audience.

Then the big finally when Janelle decide to crowd surf in my direction, where I was standing with two of her dancers. God help me. My shoulder bag fell off my arm, and the crowd was kicking it around. This time I really did bend down to pick up not only my bag from the ground, also my glasses that had fell off my face. The last thing I need were my only pair of glasses broken in two by the cause of a celebrity that I barely hear so much about.

Although I found it a bit amazing when I looked up, almost getting trampled on, how cool it was watching a sea of hands up in the air, from my astigmatism point of view. Clenching the back of my glasses in my mouth, I immediately put it on as soon as I got back on my feet.

Janelle Monae and her dancers were still audience surfing, this time to get back on stage. I knew I grabbed something, because when the singer passed my way, my new hat fell off my head. I was pissed, sore and I was missing my hat, at least for a couple of minutes until I could find it in front of my feet before it could be stepped on. Janelle Monae gave a great concert, and I had a lot of fun; although I was sore, annoyed and hungry like nobody' s business. That whole crowd surfing didn't give me nightmares, not much as thought, however I think it was either Karma or a devious quick plan to get back at me for not cooperating with the show. Oh well.