The Nerve Magazine - August 2003

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Innards

THE NERVE HIT SQUAD King Pin (a/k/a Editor-In-Chief) Bradley C. Damsgaard editor@thenervemagazine.com

Lady Godiva (a/k/a Music Editor) Sarah Rowland sarah@thenervemagazine.com

The Getaway Driver (a/k/a Production Manager) Pierre Lortie Father Gary (a/k/a Visual Arts Editor) Jason Ainsworth Shotgun (a/k/a Film Editor) Bjorn Olson Friend of the Family (a/k/a Adult Content Editor) Jason Wertman

Music Cover

Under The Volcano, Hot August Nights, Domestic Disturbance and Naughty Camp;

The Henchmen (a/k/a Design & Graphics) Pierre Lortie, Saturnin, B. Damage

Your Guide to Summer Fests that Rock!

The Muscle (a/k/a Staff Writers) Atomick Pete, A.D. MADGRAS, Cowboy TexAss, Casey Bourque, Sinister Sam, Adler Floyd, Aaronoid, Dmidtrui Otis, Angela Fama, Billy Hopeless, Dennis Regan, D-Rock and Miss Kim, Michael Mann, Adrian Mack Cover Photo and compositing: Angela Fama Cover Design: Rolling Stone staff. Due to budget cutbacks, we can’t afford our own ideas anymore.

Copy Editing Christine Carriere Advertising (a/k/a Fire Insurance) Brad Damsgaard advertise@thenervemagazine.com

The Nerve is published monthly by The Nerve Magazine Ltd. The opinions expressed by the writers and artists do not necessarily reflect those of The Nerve Magazine or its editors... but often do. First publishing rights only are property of The Nerve Magazine cause we have no desire to “own” you. The Nerve does not accept responsibility for content in advertisements. The Nerve reserves the right to refuse any advertisement or submission and accepts no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts or artwork.

Copyright 2003

508 - 825 Granville St. Vancouver, B.C. V6Z 1K9 604.734.1611 www.thenervemagazine.com

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Live Wires

Warped Tour 2003: Cement City Cowboys vs. Synthetic Suburban Punks

The Jaks Were Here!

Plus: Cradle of Filth, eXtreme Elvis, Dog Eat Dogma and more...

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Incomin’

The BellRays Million Dollar Marxists Wednesday Night Heroes

Cheap Shotz s Nerve creeps across the country toward national status, our research department has been diligently studying the behavioural patterns of other socalled “national” magazines. You can imagine our shock and horror when one of our lab techs, Badly Damaged, discovered a viral blurb demonizing the Spitfires. Now it’s no secret that anything claiming to be Canadian is just a euphemism for Toronto-based, Toronto content with Toronto bias. We can accept that, but when you fuck with the Spitfires’ good name, you’ve gone too far. Yes, they brought beer into the bar they were playing in. What? Bands back East don’t drink? Furthermore, do you think anyone west of the Rockies would really give a shit whether they bought their booze on the premises or if they brought their own supply? Well thankfully, Toronto’s precious promoters will

Look forward to seeing Nerve coverboys play at one of the festivals listed below (except for Billy, who already played his outdoor concert at the corner of Georgia and Granville).

never have to put up with that kind of hedonistic behaviour again ‘cause the Spitfires are done (well done DOA style, i.e. they’ll be playing local reunion shows for the next 20 years)-- so Hogtown booking agents can take comfort because the next two kick-ass Vancouver exports to play at a Lee’s Palace near you are SprëadEagle and the Gung-Hos. No need to lock up the liquor cabinet ... those guys almost neeeever drink….

And now for the Gung-Hos update portion of Cheap Shotz. ‘Core Ho fans needn’t worry … there’s nothing too major to report here. Yes, Jono Jak still holds the title for sexiest man in Vancouver rock — that’s not changing anytime soon. But there have been some new developments in the percussion section.

Bryce Dunn (former and possibly current drummer for New Town Animals, as there is talk of getting back together) has been filling in for Eddie Big Beers, who has been busy with other commitments. Dunn proved he can keep beat for raunchy rock as well as he can for scrappy new wave when he played his first Hos show Sunday, July 27.

And gone but not forgotten, Big Beers was there front row and centre. For the first time, Big Beers was able to enjoy the Hos as a spectator and see what

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all the hoopla is about. However, Big Beers won’t be watching from the stands when the Hos make their rounds on the festival circuit Labour Day weekend (they are tentatively booked for Domestic Disturbance and Naughty Camp). This time Dunn is busy with prior commitments and Big Beers will take his place behind the kit for both shows—- when the Hos will predictably rock everyone else off the stage.

Regulars p. 7 p. 7 p. 8 p. 5 p.18

Casey’s Q & A Adrian Mack Hopelessness Cheap Shotz Off the Record

Scraps p. p. p. p. p. p. p.

It’s Rainin’ Men Straight 8 Skate Menace Found!

Games & Puzzles Smut Ranch Cartoons

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UNCENSORED! Viewer Discretion Advised

by Sarah Rowland mean that his rightful owners don’t miss him. And if that doesn’t pull at your heart-strings, then maybe an undisclosed monetary reward for the safe return of the artwork might earn your sympathy??? If you have any information leading to Sam’s rescue (no questions asked) contact the gallery at (604) 647-1019 or email: bfly@telus.net.

This fall, look forward to a litany of new local listening pleasure to choose from. In the studio this month are the Vancouver-based Excessives, who are finishing up an EP to shop around Europe where there is a lot of interest in their hardcore sound and “chunky” guitar licks. As well, Calgary’s AC/DC-indebted rockers, the Red Hot Lovers, will be putting out a full-length on Sloth Records (for more info about their sound, turn to p.18). B.C.’s homegrown glam

punkstahhs, Speed to Kill, are currently recording an LP at Mushroom Studios with the legendary Jack Endino, who’s worked with such notables as, Nirvana, Hot Hot Heat, Mudhoney, Black Halos, etc... Not to be out done, The Nerve’s own SprëadEagle is finishing up its long awaited debut, due out in September — not only can you expect this album to be the best music in white trash rock since Ted Nugent, but you can also expect some of the best CD cover artwork from the boys and girl from Mission since Chuck Mangione’s classic trumpet hugging album photo for … well, um… any one of his recordings.

Got a dig or something to say? cheapshotz@thenervemagazine.com

Wanted!

Susana Blunt lost her dog. Her beloved pet, Sam, has been missing since July fourth and was last seen at the Bfly Atelier gallery in Vancouver’s Gastown. Now, we’re pretty sure that Sam isn’t road-kill or sitting at the pound in line for the big needle… you see, Sam is a 20” x 20” oil painting that was stolen, and Blunt is the renowned Canadian artist. Just because the bulldog is not a three dimensional critter, doesn’t

Victoria, Calgary and Edmonton writers to cover their respective music scenes... no pop and any mention of Robin Black or use of the word “quirky” will be cause for IMMEDIATE dismissal. for more info, contact: sarah@thenervemagazine.com

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Music

Casey’s Q & A

It’s the height of summer... so Casey Cougar wanted to know:

“How do you cure the Summertime Blues?”

Adrian Mack is an Idiot

by Adrian Mack

FREE GARY GLITTER! I

Chucky from Chinatown “A cold shower!”

Kathy from The Cinch “Ice cream!”

Jason Grimmer from the Nasty On “Drug abuse!”

Chris Jones from Jak Uzi “How do you get the blues in the summer???”

Sue Mama from TV Mamas / Responsibles “Booze and sunshine!”

Shaunsey from Hi-Test “Nipple licking!”

saw a little piece in either Q Magazine or Uncut – one of those scabrous English journals of yellow opinion, anyway – attacking Gary Glitter for his admittedly detestable interest in child pornography. I’m not about to defend the contents of the man’s hard-drive but this article was hysterical; calling, finally, for some kind of mass renunciation of “Rock And Roll Part 1”. I don’t recall if the same goes for “Rock and Roll Part 2” but either way, I won’t be attending any of these bonfires. The British are a gleefully censorious culture. You might have heard that, upon the advent of the “war” in Iraq, the BBC banned Hot Hot Heat’s “Bandages” single, along with a bunch of other supposedly inflammatory records. Can anybody make sense of this bit-stream of logic for me?

I’ve always been impressed, on the other hand, with the utter militancy of Britain’s tribes on questions of football, region, music, clothing… all manner of ephemera. I got beaten up in London once in the 80s because I announced that you couldn’t get a decent bag of Fish and Chips there. And you can’t. Any International Tribunal on the subject would swiftly and conclusively agree that a decent bag of Fish and Chips is found in the North, improving steadily as you travel eastwards until you arrive in Grimsby where you will find the best Fish and Chips— not just in Britain, but the world. London has wonderful theatre but shitty Fish and Chips. Fact.

On matters of pop music, however, the British truly excel at misguided political zeal. Radio is a theatre of war in that country and the music they play is incalculably rich with meaning, history and defiance. Or it used to be. When I lived there, going to school many, many years ago, you were forced to choose between the Jam and the Clash. It was a life decision and you couldn’t listen to both.

If you did, you kept it to yourself for fear of prompt isolation from the community and a shit-kicking. I was a Clash man and to this day I’m inclined to unfairly dismiss the Jam – a wonderful band – but basically a bunch of tossers and I still hate their fans.

The one thing that united everybody was an unquestioned ardour for glam rock, which we viewed as the genetic blueprint for the People’s Music. Glam is a thoroughly English phenomenon and is emblematic of the serious regard for pop that exist over there.

This might be the most ridiculous position that I ever take on anything but glam, to me, possesses a textuality that will never be adequately catalogued. Music hall, theatre, literature, camp, a history of civil unrest and the class war are all mingled in that tinny, factory-processed genre – which nonetheless had no greater ambition than to make kids scream with joy. Its other mission, darker but no less vital, was to rid the UK of hippies.

Any hippie is contemptible enough but the English Hippie is a particularly miserable breed and a real piece of work. A triumph of verbosity and cant, his odious opinions about everything will drain the magic out of living. He is morose, humourless and depressed. He regards anything outside of his absurd Stalinist worldview as humbug and he won’t hesitate to moan about it at length. His music is much the same. Droning, solipsistic and joyless, if it isn’t played on something brown and coarse resembling a pelted bladder squeezing out a lentil fart, then it’s played by Rick Wakeman and it’s fucking useless. That is why, in those dark moments when Marc Bolan

seems like nothing better than a mincing, petulant, Black Country Pixie, it’s worth remembering that the alternative was…Rick Wakeman. Glam killed Prog and everything went from Fugues in fucking Beard Minor, Middle Earth and Hampstead Socialism to “Hey Hey Hey”, Pink Spacemen and Indian Feathers. Well it did for the Sweet at any rate, who scored big with “Wig Wam Bam” and appeared on Top of the Pops wearing insane Native headgear and moccasins. One year later, bassist Steve Priest appeared on national television with a Swastika armband. We will never see their like again. Slade, meanwhile, brought succour to many an alcoholic Brickie with a dream in his plaque-hardened heart.

Slade were fronted by an out-and-out gonzo called Noddy Holder, whose name provided us with an outstanding new slang for condom.

Bowie of course was the Sparkly Eminence back then and as much as I love Ziggy, it’s the tawdry, budget, seaside-attraction low-jinks of the second wave of Glitter that I truly adore. When Shane Fenton dyed his hair black (oooohhh!!!) and “re-invented” himself as Alvin Stardust, Glam finally lost its head. His one big hit, “My Coo Ca Choo”, is a pointless re-write of “Spirit in the Sky” and it rules. Years later he re-emerged with a minor hit called “I Feel Like Buddy Holly (‘Cause it’s Raining in My Heart)”, which should have been called “I Feel like Buddy Hackett (For I Have Seen the Abyss)” but wasn’t, and years earlier he hit on my mom at a club called the Winter Gardens, that sick bastard.

Gary Glitter represents the ne plus ultra of this period and any subsequent moral blunders on his part should be immaterial. He produced a noble string of killer hits back in the day, some of which I put on a two volume compendium that YOU can download from Kazaa in two folders: “Danny Dynamite” Volumes 1 & 2. I spent months putting this together and it cost me nearly everything. As an aperitif, I suggest you also pick up “Velvet Tinmine” on RPM Records which ably mops up all the crap I couldn’t get a hold of.

And since I’m opening up my harddrive to the world, please help yourself to the notorious Linda Lovelace Dog Fuck loop, which is also sitting there. I only bring it up because it’s irrelevant.

Gary G litter

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Music

by Billy Hopeless The Hells’ Ippy and Billy in Spain

they’ve been writing about for the past year, I guess they’re over it. Fair enough. To tell you the truth, we are not that bothered about it. We’d much rather talk to people that understand R’n’R is a great musical tradition, not a fashion or a trend.

H: OK, now I try to stay up to date with all the kids and their current trends for recycling and labeling and no matter how much an artist hates it, there’s no escape from a kid with a fresh label gun so I’m sure you’ll get labeled in with the so-called new wave of new wave, but how would you label yourselves?

I: Sexy? Loud?

K: R ‘n’ R? H: So the Hells consist of 2 guitars and drums (Jeff Watson on the EP ... current drummer is Ed) but no bass player, which I know is kinda a hip thing with all you youngsters these days. Yet, I hear you sing about the bass player in a rock ‘n’ roll band in the song, “He’s the Devil (But I Love Him So)”. Thus, I can conclude that you personally have nothing against the bass guitar and understand its purpose. So why no bass guitar? Are you looking for one?

I: Oh yeah, we love the sound of bass. It’s just that we started the band as the two of us and we didn’t know any good, available bass players.

We’ve actually tried bass for a couple of months with a friend, but personally, I like ourselves better without it.

H: Any plans of coming to Canada? I’m sure you’ll be really well received here in Vancouver. In fact, I’m sure all the buzzing music bees in this hive already know about your band and are awaiting your musical royal jelly.

K: We’re playing CMJ Festival in October, followed by a tour that hopefully will take us as far as Canada.

H: In Spain, didn’t you think Glen Danzig was kinda acting like a wiener?

I: I only got to see a couple of songs in his set and didn’t talk to the guy. Kevin had his picture taken, though ... right?

K: Yeah, I’m not surprised. He acted just like I imagined a washed up middle-aged punk rock legend would act — I guess I just kinda felt for the Zig. H: OK, since you’re living in England and I’m here in Vancouver, for the last question, I’d like to mix your home turf’s culture with mine. See, a while back here in Vancouver, there was this big police investigation going on in our Asian community about the illegal sales of soup made with bear paws. From what I understand, it is believed that by eating this soup you will gain the strength of the bear and it holds medicinal qualities as well as great taste. So, let’s take England’s most famous bears Rupert and Winnie the Pooh and I ask you, which bear’s paws would make a better, more powerful broth?

I: Hahaha ... That’s some interesting story. It has to be Winnie for me!

K: I don’t know Rupert, but I guess it’d be Winnie the Pooh because his paws are all covered in honey. Just add some fresh vegetables and a lil’ Guinness to the broth ... mmm!!

THE HELLS AWAIT

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ell the festival in Spain was a blast! I saw a lot of old friends: (Zen Guerrilla, Nebula, Electric Frankenstein) ... saw Danzig (and was once again reminded that no matter how much I love hearing “Twist of Cane” I just don’t dig his attitude), and I was introduced to a really cool band called The Hells. Witnessing The Hells live made me want to call my friend and excoworker Zoe, like the guy in Back to the Future, who calls Chuck Berry, but since the Pic Pub has changed promoters, I wasn’t sure where I’d find her. After they’d won me over with their bluesy garagey rock ‘n’ roll set, I proceeded to beg the band for a free CD with a shit load of praise, but it wasn’t until I told them that I was a journalist that they took pity on me and not only granted me my own private piece of The Hells but, an interview as well. So anyways, just in case Zoe or any of you other heathens are reading this, I’m dragging you deep into the pits of The Hells with this interview with the two guitarists/vocalists, Kev and Ippy, of The Hells!

Hopeless: Thanks for doing this interview with me, I really enjoyed your set at Bilbao Accion Rock fest in which you sounded really Stoogey, but now after hearing your s/t EP I’d like to toss you this compliment: the band sound reminds me of Sonic Youth with more Kim Gordonesque sexiness. How do you like them for apples?

Kev: Thanks! I love Kim Gordonesque sexiness. I don’t know if Ippy would agree.

Ippy: Thanks. I guess?

H: So I understand you’re located in England but you’re not all from there. Why would you move to England when most people who were born there move out?

I: I ask myself the same question every day.

K: I just happened to run out of money when I was visiting there and got stuck. Since I had nowhere else I needed to be, I stayed.

H: Speaking of dismal old England your band seems destined to be on the cover of the Melody Maker and NME. Will you still talk to the little turds like me once you’ve become a huge shit on the big league pile?

I: NME who? They don’t do Melody Maker anymore. And of course we’ll talk to you.

K: Apparently, NME wouldn’t even review or listen to the EP releases because they seem convinced that because we have the word “the” in our name, we must be some crappy retro garage rock thing, and since that’s pretty much ALL

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Music

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Music

The BellRays

Punk, rock, soul and beyond…

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By Casey Cougar

t’s an incredibly rare feat for a current band to achieve a sound that is timeless in appeal, yet wholly original, but The BellRays have pulled it off largely due to the astonishing vocal prowess of singer Lisa Kekaula. The power of her voice elevates the group, which is a kick-ass band that successfully melds musical genres such as garage, rock, blues and soul, into a realm where they remain peerless after more than a dozen years of existence.

“The BellRays have never fit into any clique because of the nature of the way we’re set up,” explains Kekaula from her home in Riverside, California. She and her bandmates have grown accustomed to being outsiders in the world of rock ‘n’ roll since forming back in the late 80s, mostly to create an escape from the music of that era.

“The reason bands like us do what we do is first of all, because we must,” says Kekaula, “Second of all, we were so tired of all the crap that was around [at that time]. I wasn’t getting very inspired by what I was supposed to be getting from popular music.”

Not surprising since the group’s unique “punk, rock and soul” sound couldn’t be more different from the hair metal, shoe gazin’ and grunge bands plentiful during their beginnings.

While most of those bands have (thankfully!) bitten the dust, the BellRays remain every bit as unique, relevant and influential as they have been from day one.

The BellRays formed outta the demise of the Rose Thorns, Kekaula’s earlier partnership with husband and

bassist/songwriter Bob Vennum. She downplays the obvious fascination with an inter-band pairing.

“The dynamics people don’t hear as much about are how much alike a marriage and being in a band are.” she says.

“To stay committed to four people from four different backgrounds — it’s very delicate and time consuming. Anybody getting into politics or a position of leadership should spend some time in a band and see how well they fair!”

Although they have had a number of lineup changes over their long history, she and Vennum have remained committed to their original intent. Guitarist/songwriter Tony Fate had a smaller role in the earlier stages of the BellRays, filling in on bass at times, but other projects fizzled allowing him to become an integral part. Hopefully new drummer Eric Allgood is prepared to pound it out for the long haul, ‘cause this band is gonna be around awhile.

Another factor in the group’s longevity is the way they’ve managed their career.

“The BellRays, for your readers’ and other bands’ information, happen to own everything that we’ve put out,” says Kekaula. “We own our masters to everything we’ve ever done — no one else does.”

They’ve wisely hung onto their musical creations by releasing them on Vennum’s Vital Gesture label and turning over songs to very few labels such as Disgruntled. Uppercut Records recently released the BellRay’s Raw Collection, a compilation of 15 tracks previously released on 7” that are now virtually impos-

sible to find. Songs like “You’re Sorry Now,” “Half a Mind” and “Pinball City” showcase the intensity of the BellRays for either longtime fans or those newly turned on.

The quartet tour almost incessantly with a lot of time spent over in Europe but, they are aware of the importance of hitting relatively smaller cities like Regina.

“Fans are everywhere and some of these smaller cities, that’s where people go CRAZY for the band,” she says.

“We can’t wait to get up there. Playing for people is the most honorable thing we do — not just putting out a record and trying to make it rockin’ but going out on the road and being able to back it up.”

Besides Raw Collection, the BellRays will soon release a brand new album by year’s end and once their North American tour is complete, they will be going back to Europe for the second time this year.

Hopefully, the current fascination with stripped down, blues-tinged bands will widen the BellRays’ audience. They’ve already received praise in the rabid British press (who are largely responsible for the success of the White Stripes) so their persistence and belief in themselves could pay off … soon.

Catch the BellRays in Vancouver at the Brickyard Sunday, August 24, Calgary at the Night Gallery Tuesday, August 26 and Edmonton at the New City Likwid Lounge Wednesday, August 27.

Million Dollar Marxists

By TexAss

The extent of our knowledge of these boys is: a self-titled six-song EP, which blew away any other disc that came through the Nerve office in a long while; and that they’ve been compared to the Supersuckers, Dead Boys and even the Hives. The Nerve magazine tried to get some more goods on these Ottawa boys…

Tex: Who are you? Who are the Million Dollar Marxists?

M$M: I’m Luke, I sing. Johnny plays bass.

Lee used to play lead guitar … but he left just recently. Steve still plays guitar and Tim plays drums. We’re touring this summer as a four piece.

Tex: Define M$M as a band.

M$M: We’re just a rock ‘n’ roll band, like any other that came before us.

Tex: On your Web site, you claimed that you were the reinvention of Canadian rock ‘n’

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the trenches or anything … the stuff he wrote was more what he thought was going to happen in Europe. I’d say I’m a little closer to being a socialist than being a staunch money grabbing capitalist, but at the same time, I’m fairly pragmatic about the world we live in. Our name came from a lot of people I know involved in protests and stuff like that, but are all super well-off kids, from nice parts of town, have lots of money … but on weekends would join in protests and want to kick in the windows of McDonalds.

Tex: Do you have anything coming out aside from your re-released EP? roll…

M$M: We’re working on a 7” split with this M$M: Well, I figure, if you’re gonna set band from Seattle called Rotten Apples. goals, you better be audacious about it and They’re a really cool all girl rock ‘n’ roll band. that’s about the level of audacity that we’ve Tex: They’re on that bill you guys are playing got… here next month…

Tex: How does M$M: They are. They’re rock ‘n’ roll fit supposed to be touring with Yeah, well, the groupies us for the second half of our into the struggle of the proare nice, but they’re few tour, which starts on the 9th letariat against and far between. We do it in Vancouver. the bourTex: Most of Western so we don’t wanna kill geoisie?

Canada has little or no ourselves at the end of M$M: I’ve knowledge of the rock ‘n’ been waiting the day. roll prowess you men wield, for someone to how do you intend on eduask questions like that … we don’t have a cating us? credo of any kind of leftist or definable politics M$M: Well, all I can really say is that people for the band. Like, if anything, our policy is are just gonna have to come check out our just to sort of invoke some thought. It’s more show … recorded music and live music, to me, about the politics of hypocrisy. are unbelievably different. I don’t think they’re Tex: Like, if Karl Marx won the lottery? even comparable. We have a really energetic M$M: Well, yeah, exactly… what would he live show, we don’t just stand around and try to have done? He wasn’t exactly poor, he was a look pretty. We like what we’re doing, and rich dude. Y’know, he was a well-educated that’s why we’re doing it, for the rush, the German aristocratic economist … he wasn’t in release that we get when we play live. That’s

the best part.

Tex: It’s not the groupies?

M$M: Yeah, well, the groupies are nice ,but they’re few and far between. We do it so we don’t wanna kill ourselves at the end of the day.

Tex: What’s the best thing to happen to you since you joined a rock band?

M$M: Getting out there and doing our stuff.

I mean, we don’t make any money doing this … and the girls aren’t knocking down the van door at the end of the night, which isn’t really much of a motivation for us cuz we’re all asexual. Just getting out, playing shows, hooking up with other cool bands, partying, drinking and hanging out in other cities. I mean, who wants to hang out in Ottawa?

Tex: Ask yourself a question and answer it.

M$M: Why are the M$M the best rock ‘n’ roll band in Canada?

Tex: Well, why?

M$M: Cuz we are.

Tex: That’s a bold statement, you’ll have to prove that in a few weeks.

M$M: We’re all about bold statements.

Tex: Do you feel you have a shot at taking Avril Lavigne’s current role as the one Canadian musician or group an American could name if asked to name at least 3?

M$M: I don’t think we’re ever gonna be at that point, we don’t wear enough stuff that’s marketable. Maybe I’m just being a little pessimistic about it but we’d need some pretty serious makeovers before we could get to that point. We’re all pretty ugly.

Catch the M$M with the Gung-Hos and the Rotten Apples Saturday, August 9th at the Cobalt in Vancouver.

Wednesday Night Heroes

by Sarah Rowland

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hen you talk about the Wednesday Night Heroes, the question on everybody’s mind is why not Thursday’s or even (dare I say) Tuesday’s? With so many other days of the week, no wonder it’s been the subject of many a philosophical Oi! debate. While some speculate that it’s in reference to living on the dole, others argue that it refers to hump day.

In an exclusive interview with The Nerve, lead singer Graeme MacKinnon, settles the score once and for all.

“It’s wing night most places,” says MacKinnon about the inspiration for his band’s name.

So there you have it. Mystery solved. But is there more to the four-piece than teriyaki, hot and/or BBQ flavoured drummettes?

Of course. Just one listen to their second full-length, Superiority Complex, and it’s pretty obvious the band is destined for punk-o-rama fame and fortune. Most of the tracks are propelled by the mandatory Oi! choir, suggesting the WNH army is growing stronger. But don’t be fooled by their song titles and catchy hardcore melodies, the skinheads from Edmonchuck are on a mission far greater than just fighting for good clean punk rock living.

“Two songs in particular are a little more political in terms of things that were going on at the time those songs were written,” says MacKinnon.

“Like there was a war going on in Iraq and we didn’t want to be part of it and a lot of kids in our scene didn’t want anything to do with it. So we’re just trying to echo a lot of the sentiments that we hear. It’s what I believe. ‘Breaking Down the Walls’ is for the kids to rise above all the bullshit; and ‘We Want the Truth’ is for media, especially here in Alberta, when Ralph Klein was telling everyone that all Albertans are 100 per cent in support of the war. And almost everyone I talk to was like, ‘Fuck that.’”

On a less international scale, WNH have had battles of their own being raised in Canada’s Bible belt.

“We all had problems growing up,” says MacKinnon. “There was a load of rednecks and you hear stories, especially from a lot of the old-school guys that the redneck problem was really bad in Alberta, and it still is. There are our big trendy streets that are still really violent. But the thing is, like it or not, punk is more acceptable now. You see it every day, fuckin’ dumb asses in pick-ups starting to understand that it’s [punk rock] not a big threat.”

Live, they transform their angst into a sweaty pit of punk rock unity.

“We conjure up every ounce of stupidity and retardation that we have and put it all in one show,” says MacKinnon, who is renowned for his NBA-high leaps and bounds. “Sometimes I’m so pumped that, yah, I’m like Air Jordon. Other times I get like Ozzy Osbourne and all geriatric and it’s like, ‘Fuck, I can’t even jump over the monitor.’ I just have to hope that there’s some canned heat in my heels.’”

And for the nights he can’t clear speakers and amps, he relies on his words.

“Hopefully, our lyrics can give some kind of awareness or pride for a culture that kids should be proud of,” says MacKinnon. “Punk is awesome.

Accept it. Wear it on your jacket.”

s e r i W e v i L

Music

Warped Tour 2003:

Cement City Cowboys vs.

Synthetic Suburban Punks Cowboy TexAss: The Nerve Cowboy contingent does the Vans Warped tour…

Cowboy Bob: There was a Dane, a Jew, an Indian and an Arab and they all got into two cars...

Tex: What about the Pollack?

Bob: On their way there, they stopped to pick up a POLLACK… Tex: We missed the turnoff ‘cause we were road racing...

Bob: …arrived hungover and horny…. After dealing with our hangovers in the parking lot with a bottle of Tex’s blended rye concoction, we ventured forth…

Tex: The skatepunk festival merchandising machine was already pumping hundreds of unwitting kids through endless booths of overpriced crap. A wee bit disoriented by having at least three bands going at any given time, playing what sounded for the most part like the same song, but, y’know, different parts at the same time, like they used to make you sing like in kindygarten…

Bob: Huh? Tex: What’d we see first?

Bob: A real nice ass on this… er… the Ernie Ball trailer stage I believe…

Tex: Which was pretty not happening.

Bob: About 20 people watching with another 200 walking right past.

Tex: So we wandered uninterested from stage to stage until the first highlight of the day — Andrew W.K.! Dirty shirt clad and greasy long haired trailer park fitness instructor on a high dose of amphetChris Jones photo

amines with memorable motivational speeches and words to live by like, “We have to honour the dead cuz they can’t be here … it’s our honour to be here, it’s our duty to have fun.”

Bob: At the Warped Tour party the night before, I thought this bum had snuck in, but at that moment I saw it was his guitar player … I think he’s the happiest rock star out there ... happiest and bloodiest…

Tex: Most insane….

Bob: Ok… Tex: So we also saw the Dropkicks.

We saw Rancid. We saw a million other bands, but by about 6, I was oblivious to anything on a stage.

Sensory overload. Done.

Bob: The setup was worse than last year. I liked being able to escape backstage to the bleachers and watch shit from behind. This year, the bleachers were filled with ... they were just FILLED, that was the problem … there was no peace up there at all.

Tex: I liked how they kept most of the merch off in areas where you didn’t have to go unless you really wanted to.

Bob: What’s with the mini donut stands? Who the fuck buys donuts at a punk show?

Tex: Who buys sunglasses and designer skater shorts at a punk show?

Bob: Who buys a fuzzy white hiphop hat? Did you see those?

Tex: I dunno, but I was just glad there was no fucking rap.

Bob: The burgers really sucked…

Tex: A lot more walking around too … and while we were walking around, I

started thinking t h a t t h e r e Face to Face at really should be an age limit for G-string sales. I saw some of what I thought were sexy punkrocker asses with the G-string sticking out the back … then upon closer inspection … dude, they were like 12. That’s wrong.

Bob: Hey, what do you get when you add 15 and 25? 5 to 10.

Tex: Speaking of girls, there was only one onstage the whole show, Tsunami Bomb.

Bob: Ya, it was a sausage fest. Did Live on Release break up?

Tex: I dunno, they were supposed to play.

Bob: They didn’t play … but I saw 3 of them there ... backstage, looking … nubile.

Tex: Speaking of little tits, I actually made the hike up the hill from the lower stages to the top stage to see A Simple Plan. Why? I don’t know.

Those guys reeked of so much suck.

Bob: They could have made a suck cake.

Tex: Who was the fool who made these guys one of the headliners of this thing? They did play a Bad Religion cover, “American Jesus” … but that couldn’t outweigh the fact that their singer has a face that begs to be smashed in … and a voice of a whiny rich kid who can’t get his way.

That’s not punk, it’s just annoying.

The little kids’ eyes were all glowing though, as if, like, that right there, at that moment, was the greatest part of their short little lives, thus far, seeing A Simple Plan…

Bob: Next…

Warped Tour Tex: The Suicide Machines.

Bob: Oh right, they were pretty good.

Tex: They created a sea of mosh pit and then they parted that sea of mosh pit and then pitted us against each other and made us do that Braveheart thing.

Bob: Ya, that was nice and violent.

Tex: I mangled a few stupid little skate kids … by accident, of course … the band made me do it.

Bob: That’s what they’re for, good for mangling.

Tex: For a while there, I had almost forgotten that I was getting way too old for this kind of show, havin’ a good time, getting back to my younger, more limber days — until I looked down to see a bunch of tiny youngins thrusting their little jiffy marker tattooed bodies against mine in an attempt to dance or bond or whatever it was with me.

Bob: It was funny. Bands kept saying “YA, 4th of July!” and were all confused when the kids didn’t react.

Tex: I wasn’t listening to the terribly un-witty stage banter, but one of the last bands to play, some indie rock band called Vaux, let out the built-up flatulent-like statement right at the end: “I feel like an American in Canada on the Fourth of July.” So many bands, so little excitement.

There should have been booze.

Bob: No shit.

The Jaks: Let one rip for the team! four frenzied days of punk rock, skateboarding and unrestricted hooliganism.

This year the reunion was split into two parts, July 1st and 2nd in Vancouver, and the 3rd and the 4th in Seattle. This was done this way so as many Jaks as possible could participate, since many Team members have “problems” crossing the border.

I

n the early 80’s a small group of hardcore skateboarders from San Francisco joined together and called themselves the Jaks.

Since those formative days, Jaks chapters have spread across the U.S. and Canada. Once a year the Jaks’ reunion sees denim vested cretins from across North America unite for

Jono Jak and Shad Jak were there to witness it all. This is their story.

JJ: The scary thing is that the reunion is only supposed to be 4 days long, starting on Tuesday the 1st, but all the Americans started showing up on the previous Friday and it was game on!

SJ: I had to fuckin’ work until the 1st.

JJ: So you got off easy. But let’s try to remember here … oh yeah, unfortunately for them, but good for us, Monk, Limes and Fat Chris, are all Jaks that live together … so there was a meeting place to kick this nightmare off.

We all met there then headed to Seylynn Bowls for the Skate comp. Emon Jak threw

his BBQ in his truck and we set it up at the foot of the snake run. Much skating, drinking and eating ensued.

SJ: I believe that was the last meal we had for about four days.

JJ: Yes it was. Then it was off to the Cobalt.

SJ: I’d like to thank Wendy and Jay from the Cobalt for being the only people cool enough or foolish enough to host the musical portion of the reunion. The first night’s line-up consisted of The Keg Killers and Self Inflicted from Victoria, Burnaby Leather, the Bolsheviks and Jak Uzi, all locals. It’s impossible for me to be objective as all the bands are friends. Let’s just say it was a really good time.

JJ: The show was awesome, but by no way did the fun stop there. After the show, it was back to Casa del Jak to watch the sun rise in shame. It’s hard to believe parties still go on like that with no cops.

SJ: Holy fuck — is it really only day two? The party wounds run deep for many and it was a

See the Jaks Next Page...

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Music

WÉÇÉ àÜ xáàâÇà|Ä à{xÜ x |á áÉ v|tÄ }âáà|vx yÉ Ü TÄ Ä A

“A colossal wall of punishing grindcore ... that should feature in every self-respecting grindcore fan's collection.” -

MALEFACTION ON TOUR: Where There Is Power, There Is Always

August 4th - Vancouver @ Underwear Farm August 5th - Victoria @ Little Fernwood August 7th - Calgary @ I’ve Read That (early), Castle Pub

Brutal. Sick. Stench. Total sleaze. That, my friend, is but a sampling of the euphemisms conjured up and disgorged to describe this, Malefaction’s most complete and utter sonic abomination to date. Where there is Power... is their second volley of grape-shot on G7 Records and is another over-the-top cyclone of grinding, blasting, politically-disobedient disgust that will have all you little pink-bellied bangers running for the nearest thing that even remotely G7 Welcoming Committee Records | Box 27006 | 360 Main St. Concourse | Winnipeg, Mb | R3C 4T3 | Canada | http://www.g7wel-

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Cradle of Filth Killswitch Engage Shadows Fall Sworn Enemy @the Commodore Vancouver, B.C. Friday, July 11th 2003

If they ever decided to retire that talking, rotting guy who narrates Tales from the Crypt, I’m sure Dani Filth could fill his shoes for at least a couple episodes. As he croaked to the crowd amidst a deranged circus act of gothic black metal, I couldn’t help but blink and imagine a cartoonish witch over a cauldron of bat testicles and eyeballs.

Even the words “Hello Vancouver” sounded cartoony coming from their creepy British-accented, mesh and leather clad ring leader, although that was probably part of the point. Over the top. The act became a bit redundant though, with the addition of stilted S&M clowns, who just kinda hung out and creeped about on stage melodramatically. I was kinda hoping for something a little more grotesque or satanic as a sideshow, like y’know, sacrificed babies or squirting decapitated heads, or at least something a little more erotic than some goth chick just prancing about in her vinyl spider suit. Musically though, they were tight, polished, balanced, with pretty, operatic female vocals and melodic church type organs contrasted with the high pitched screams, guttural growls, speed metal guitar and double kick drumming. They were loud.

They were fast. They were fucking heavy.

They made my ear drums ring for two days following. They kept true to their recordings too, as could only be expected from a bunch of meticulous British goths.

Any of the crowd that weren’t there for C.o.F. or hadn’t accidentally wandered into the Commodore on their way to the Marilyn Manson show down the block, were there for Killswitch Engage— a hardcore band for the most part, but with a wide vocal range, and a handful or two of engaging riffage. I think

they scared away most of the Manson heads though, or maybe it was past their bedtimes.

Hell Bent

Lillix

The Royal Saturday, July 26, 2003 It’s Abba. No wait, it’s the Spice Girls. Yeah, but then it’s the Dixie Chicks 20 years too late for Hee Haw. No, now it’s Destiny’s Child with guitars. Veruca Salt sure are diverse these days, and getting younger too. Yeah, we got Country Lee Spice over on keyboards there and her sis Teen Beat Lee Spice on guitar with candy coated vocals. Over on the left we got Hippy Spice with her overly redundant peace sign chain and flower painted on her guitar. On drums, we got, well, Tommy Lee Spice I guess, a/k/a Kim, who ditched her gig with the Rumours to run around on Madonna’s label with this Lillix gig. Funny how the drummer from a no name local rocker band is the only professional and confident looking member of this super hyped band. These girls don’t seem to know what the hell they’re doing up there. I mean, yeah, they can play their songs, (“We write all our own songs, ok, hee hee hee”) but they seem so directionless musically, yet inspired by glossy pop princesses to be a ‘rock band’, so what are they? Front lady Teen Beat Lee seemed so nervous and awkward trying to do her cutesy, valley girl sexy chick on stage act (“hee hee hee”) that I think most of the audience felt awkward for her, except this one dude… (there’s always one dude at the Royal who’s having way too much fun to actually be a fan of the band or know what country he’s in).

At least we had their witty stage banter: “This one’s about getting in a fight, tee hee hee”.

Yeah… I’ll have a Shirley Temple too, K? Cowboy TexAss

Music

@ The Cobalt Friday July 18, 2003

Mr. Plow kicked off the evening like the white Wesley Willis with some potty-mouth little ditties. Songs like “Bi-Polar Bear” and “Geriatric Love” were as much stand-up comedy as they were folk. Sure they were tighter than a pickle jar, but Tim’s punk-by-numbers and tennis racket stage moves were just way too safe to be exciting. Relief quickly came in the form of Alcoholic White Trash. No soft parts, no whinealong harmonies, just furious hi-test punk rock. They even blessed us with the title track off their upcoming album “Punk Rock Jihad”. Allah be praised!

Iyiyiyiyiyiyi!!!

The degree of psychological discomfort experienced while watching eXtreme Elvis confirms the genius of his performance. More disturbing than Gwar and just this side of GG Allen, eXtreme Elvis at the Cobalt...

Elvis shocked and awed. He took the stage in an Old Elvis style jumper that fit more was a steady stream of theatrical players like a bra perched high atop a mountain of including a Spanish dancer, a preacher, and a blubber, which in turn overhung the too-tight fire spinning swordsman. This new album pants exposing major butt-crack. In between should go a long way in cementing DED’s legfaithfully reproduced Elvis classics, he would endary status.

J. Pee Patchez swig from a 60 of JD and berate the audience.

By the third song he had stripped down completely naked, revealing what had to be the most microscopic penis anyone has ever seen. In Flames It resembled a chick-pea nestled in a foreskin Chimaira thimble. Elvis stumbled all over the bar as everyone else scrambled to anywhere he was- Soilwork n’t. He rubbed on people, was spanked by @ the Commodore people, and had his bag flicked at mercilessly. Vancouver, B.C. Then he beached himself back up on stage and Monday, July 21 2003 proceeded to let go a golden rainbow of piss, soaking dozens without prejudice. The spectre Last time I checked, there seemed to be some of this impossibly fat, drunken Elvis, wrapped sort of unwritten rule among concert promoters in the Yankee flag, and belting out “Glory not to book bands that sound too much alike, so Hallelujah” is only slightly less haunting than as not to confuse traveling headliners with their opening acts. Upon entering the Commodore, the sight of that.... that.... penis!

J. Pee Patchez I thought I’d missed the entire show as some band decked out in matching blue and mustard coloured ‘In Flames’ tour team jerseys thrashed Dog Eat Dogma through some very In Flames sounding songs.

Aging Youth Gang The bald heads, goatees and lack of cute little Swedish accents gave them away though, but Evan Simmons these Soilwork guys do a great job of sounding @ the Cobalt exactly like In Flames, minus the Loud hits.

Vancouver, B.C. When In Flames finally did hit the stage, hours Saturday July 26, 2003 later, it was amidst a way too dramatic, techno ‘Twas a goonshow in the form of some kind of infused entrance (which kinda just sounded punk-rock variety program. There were like the intro to White Zombie’s “Electric freaks, dancers, comedy, cross-dressing (the Head”). You wondered where the lighters in Sizzler was HOT), camera crews, and a pit full the air were, oh wait, they’re there. And then of folks guzzlin’ draft straight from the jug. MC they go and play their hit song first. Cocky Swedish bastards. It smelled like Team Spirit for the night was Watermelon, whose stand-up comedy revolves around her life as a slacker, pothead, nudist and Dog Eat Dogma drug dealer. Her slide show pisstake on Reefer Madness and jokes about cops and stoned pedestrians on Commercial Street provoked everything from knowing chuckles to all out knee-slappin’. In place of the absentee jugglers, a lone Evan Simmons took the stage and challenged listeners with his fucked-up electric-blues-core-math-folk. He was dressed like a wizard, so don’t feel stupid for not getting it.

Aging Youth Gang set the time machine for 1980 and transported us to time when the punk was pure and the tunes relentless. Proving wisdom comes with experience, these old-school vets ripped a tight, highly in front of that stage too. Hair, beer, beer in hair, testosterone, and way too many men enjoyable set.

Dog Eat Dogma is a longtime bonding in the steaming pit, which started to Vanshitty punk institution and they took great swell and boil beyond control at this point; beer pleasure in showing us why. Filming a video and sweat spilled out copiously as meathead for, and celebrating the release of, their new jocks took their shirts off and smashed into album, New Leash on Life, frontman Bob Dog each other in a homoerotic, yet ‘hardcore’ fashattacked the crowd, demanding their full atten- ion. The band wore geeky, beige Euro-trash tion. He barked and snarled his way through polo shirts, accented with extensive tattoos such songs as, “Soilent Green” and “Art of the (one guitarist sports a zebra striped pattern State” while he slugged from his ever-present down the length of his arm). You gotta love bottle of sake with equal ferocity. The guys that can rock out on stage and on the golf They played a fuckin’ wicked set enlarged stage didn’t seem big enough to con- course. tain the band as they ripped and lurched nonetheless, and my neck was sore for days through some very complex stops, starts, and after my hangover passed, though they time changes, never letting up on the intensity did neglect to play that Genesis cover.

Cowboy TexAss level. Adding to the presentation of the songs What the hell?

Chris Jones photo

struggle to gather the troops for skate-hockey, but eventually the gong show appeared at Hastings skate park for the games.

JJ: It was nothing the hair of the dog couldn’t cure. Too bad most of the Yankee teams could not sport a full roster, but a good time anyway.

SJ: Well it was back to the scene of the crime at the Cobalt for more drunken punk rock mayhem.

The lineup that night included Vancouver’s Dirty and the Derelicts, Cumsoc, Calgary natives Dry Fisted and the legendary Death Sentence with former Day-Glo Mike Jak on second guitar. Their cover of the B52’s “Planet Claire” rocked the house.

JJ: The best part was when Dan Scum rolled out the keyboards to a flurry of beer cups and debris.

But the crowning moment was when “The Chancellor” and O.G. Jak, Simon Snotface hit the stage with Death Sentence and brought the house down with “Glad to be a Jak”.

SJ: The night ended with a classic Jak moment.

Someone yelled, “team photo, all Jaks to the stage!” so every Jak stormed the stage only to find there was not a camera in the house.

JJ: Classic.

SJ: Day 3 and the U.S. leg begins.

JJ: Yup. I remember you were so hung-over you wanted me to drive.

SJ: No chance, I’d rather cross the border with one of Saddam Hussein’s doubles at the wheel.

JJ: Yeah, I’m a little shaky at the whole border crossing thing. Those guys scare the hell out of me. They make me feel like I’m muling coke.

SJ: With the border behind us, we filled our cooler with the foul dreck that Americans call beer.

JJ: And we had Sour Dough Jaks too.

SJ: So we did eat again.

JJ: Touche.

SJ: The Yanks were having a skate comp in Ballard, so we headed there.

JJ: Yup, the bowl was huge and fast. We were drunk and slow. We were hours ahead of everyone else, so we hooked up with them at the show that night.

SJ: The show was also in Ballard at the Sunset Tavern and it was packed.

JJ: Damn rights, good bands. Jak Uzi, The Bulimics from Austin Texas, and The Vaccines reunited for their “final” show ... again.

SJ: They fuckin’ ripped. One of my all time favorite bands. The show ended with an unscheduled fireworks display. But the shit was yet to

eXtreme Elvis Alcoholic White Trash Tim Mr. Plow

Luvena Ella Vader photo

The Jaks Continued

truly hit the fan...

JJ: They sure like their fireworks.

SJ: Day 4. America Day! JJ: Peeled ourselves off the floor at our friend Heidi’s house and scrambled to the ferry. We picked up a few new travel buddies, Fat Chris and Limes. Where were we going again?

SJ: Tommy Bonehead’s legendary BBQ on Bainbridge Island.

JJ: As I recall, 2 years ago to the day, is when you became a Jak. Something about walking naked tethered to two other naked Yanks with 50 Jaks skating behind you, using your bare white asses as bottle rocket target practice…

SJ: Yes, one of my proudest moments.

JJ: Things started relatively calm, people setting up their tents and shit.

SJ: Tents? That would have been a good idea.

JJ: Yeah, it would’ve. What really got things going was the chicken drop.

SJ: There’s a cage with a grid full of numbers on the ground and for a buck you buy a square.

JJ: Mine was 31.

SJ: Then they drop a chicken in the cage. If it shits on your number, you get 100 bucks.

JJ: Righteous bucks.

SJ: It didn’t matter who won really, because the money was spent on beer for all.

JJ: Then the bands started in the backyard.

SJ: And so did the war. Here was the shock and awe we heard so much about. There was more firepower in the hands of drunken lunatics than both Gulf wars combined.

JJ: Yeah, I was sure glad we weren’t playing.

And the all-girl band from S.F., Chixx Pack, got off relatively easy, but watching The Bulimics and Jak Uzi was like watching the opening scene from Saving Private Ryan.

SJ: It was fucking mental, but once the bands were finished, no one was safe.

JJ: It was all out war for about 5 hours. But eventually things died down and the rockets were pointed to the skies, not the eyes.

SJ: Yeah, and many toasts were made, many stories told, many memories made.

JJ: Foggy though they may be! And all good things must come to an end.

SJ: But not really, because next year we get to do it all again!

JJ: In Baja!

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Music

14

Music

Your Summer Guide to Fests That Rock the Status Quo. . . I

t’s that time of the year again. Barricade and port-o-potty business is booming, the Osbournes gross enough to cover their rehab bills and multinational production conglomerates rape kids with high ticket prices and then turn them over and rape them again with merchandise extortion.

Of course, the festival circuit doesn’t have to be that way.

There is an alternative ... no, not Lollapalooza. The alternative is producing outdoor events that support independent music with minimal corporate sponsorship and without gouging concert goers. Sound impossible? Well, if you want to retire young then yes, it is. But as four local Nerveapproved promoters demonstrate, sometimes people do do it for the love of music. Go figure.

The Black Panther Fugitives

Drive from Downtown Vancouver: About 20 min. (free shuttle available) Number of Beer Gardens: Drink before ‘cause it’s an alcohol-free zone Band per Buck: Pay by Donation Guaranteed Fill of: The high you can only get when you’re making a difference

HOT AUGUST NIGHTS

By far the most socially conscious event of the year is Under the Volcano. For people who like to speak out against sanctions in Iraq as they surf a mosh pit or want to learn more about Native sover-

By Sarah Rowland

Under The Volcano

eignty issues as they wave their hands in the mutha fuckin’ air, Meegan Maultsaid’s has the event for you. The lead singer for Che: Chapter 127 has been involved with Volcano for nine years. She says the festival, which focuses on Cultures of Resistance through workshops and music, offers something for both anti-globalization radicals and those of us who are maybe not as politically aware as she is.

“We have booked bands sometimes that aren’t overtly political,” says Maultsaid, who also sits on the committee for Vancouver’s annual Rock for Choice benefit. She says that for better or worse, every year the festival roster includes a group with little or no motivation for social change. “But they’re people in the community who support Under the Volcano. They have good ethics around how they operate their bands or whatever. That’s not to say we haven’t

Drive from Downtown Vancouver: 5 min Number of Beer Gardens: One Beer Garden and BBQ spit Band per Buck: Approx. $2 Guaranteed Fill of: VanCon While Maultsaid is keeping it real, Frank Yahr of Rumbletone Productions is keeping it local.

His Hot August Nights festival at the Waldorf Hotel Fairgrounds (i.e. souped-up parking lot with tents and tiki torches) is an all day event; made up of mostly straight-up punk ‘n’ roll Vancouver bands including, John Ford and the Smears. He admits that his line-up consists of acts that you can catch on any given weekend, but for Yahr, it’s all about location, location, location.

“I know you can see these bands on a fairly regular basis or two at a time, but it’s pretty much been the same old atmosphere over and over again: You’re inside a club; you’re drinking beers, hanging with your friends, rocking out,” explains the man synonymous with inventive theme nights, such as a Japanese surf garage night at Shenanigans and a French 60s pop night at the Purple Onion. “Now you can do that with a much larger group of friends and have a real big party atmosphere. It’s just changing up the pace.”

But it’s not just about the change in scenery, Yahr is very sincere when he drops by The Nerve headquarters to talk about the caliber of talent that will be showcased Sunday, August 17 (2-10pm). One band he’s particularly proud of is coed melodic art rockers, the Cinch.

“They’re absolutely amazing,” he says about the 2000 Shindig champs. “You

made mistakes. We’ve had artists sometimes that people have said afterwards, ‘I’m surprised you booked them.’ We had Swollen Members one year and there were a lot of people who criticized that.

Sometimes it’s hard to say no to someone that you know can draw another group of people who might not normally come.”

But for those militant activists dedicated to resisting the power of white capitalist greed, Volcano proudly welcomes The Black Panther Fugitives, an Oakland-based hip hop act that uses rhymes as a means of resistance.

“I think it’s interesting that now they are bringing the legacy of the Panthers and those ideologies into hip hop because a lot of people who listen to hip hop aren’t political,” says Maultsaid at a Main St cafe. “They [Panther ignoramuses] probably don’t even know who the Black Panthers are or they know who in a very simplified form but they don’t

can describe them in two words: They Understand.”

Hmmm … yah, you could. But you could also describe them in two other words: ecstatic and giddy.

“We’re very excited,” Kathy Dubé and Jennifer Smyth say in tandem about putting the finishing touches on their first fulllength.

The two vocalists sat down to talk with The Nerve at one of the city’s most posh cold treat outlets on Main St. In response to Yahr’s comments about the Cinch’s ability to rhythmically tap into their fans’ neurological waves, the girls are a little taken aback but flattered nonetheless.

“I think it shows that we’re on the right track,” says Dubé. “Everything we do kind of comes from rhythms. Even vocally, a lot of times, we don’t really think of the words.

It’s more of how the melody sounds or rhythms sound amongst everything else.”

To capture their impulse for biorhythmic beats, they recorded half the album, which is due out early fall, at Jason Solyom’s studio in Abbottsford.

However, due to transportation challenges, the five-piece is finishing up the rest of the LP at The Hive Studios in East Van, where Jerk with a Bomb recorded its critically acclaimed LP, Pyrokinesis.

“At first it was like, ‘OK, we’re a little sad that we’re not doing the whole thing with him [Solyom],’” says Smyth. “But we got the best drums, bass and most of the guitars recorded with him and The Hive has worked with a lot of vocally bands so they really experiment with vocals. So I think we’re going to be fine.”

Anyone who checks them out at Hot August Nights can hear for themselves that the Cinch is more than just fine.

For complete listings and ticket info, check out www.rumbletone.com

know the depth or the extent or the ripple effects of the movement.”

BPF frontman, Jamiel Hassan, knows the historical importance of the Panthers because he is the product of two high-ranking members. However, he admits to being unschooled when it comes to the 14-year-old festival that he’ll be performing at Sunday, August 10th at Cates Park in North Vancouver. But from what he hears, Under the Volcano is the perfect platform to kick off his global tour.

“Anything that coincides with our beliefs, we feel like we have a duty to be there and show our support,” says the gracious soft-spoken rapper on the phone from his Raiders-town home. He’s on a three-way call with Dorion Hilliard, who produced BPF’s debut, LP All of Us. He too is a son of a Panther.

Hence, don’t expect any gangsta rhymes or bling bling attitude on this album. Instead of Diana Ross sam-

ples on the first track, “The Legacy of the Panthers” we get excerpts from Malcolm X’s “Ballot or the Bullet” speech. Funny, MTV would have you believe that hiphop lyrical content doesn’t go beyond mo money, the act of cheating, getting caught cheating or catching someone cheating.

Yet, BPF has more in common with Rage Against the Machine than 50 Cents.

“I just think you have to dig deeper,” says Maultsaid about finding activists that mix b-boy beats with leftist politics. “In its roots I think hip hop and punk definitely have some similarities.

It’s music of resistance, ultimately.”

For listings, ticket info and shuttle schedule visit www.resist.ca/~volcano or call (604) 682-3269 (#7164)

3 Inches of Blood

DOMESTIC DISTURBANCE

Drive from Downtown Vancouver: Speeding 45 min. otherwise a little over an hour Number of Beer Gardens: One Big’un on concert grounds (BYOB on campsite only) Band per Buck: Approx. $1 Guaranteed Fill of: Metal

What he lacks in public relations experience, first time festival promoter Travis Wagner makes up for with balls-out ambition. Domestic Disturbance, a 57-band/2-stage/three-day event, is a huge undertaking for someone whose experi-

ence is limited to promoting night clubs.

For starters, Wagner hadn’t anticipated all the red tape involved with booking bands with agents who don’t know who he is. But he persevered and more importantly, hired someone else to book the festival. Furthermore, as the DD roster inches closer to filling all 57 slots, Wagner is becoming increasingly aware that his event is turning into a head banger’s wet dream.

“It just kind of worked out that it was like a rock/metal show,” he says from his Surrey office. “I personally wanted as much country as rock and as much metal as hip hop. I wanted it to be like every day was totally different. Next year that will be a different story. We should have access to more bands next year.”

More Disturbance Next Page...

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Domestic Disturbance

Continued

That doesn’t mean that every act is all about paying homage to Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. For instance, VanCity’s MuchVibe two-piece, the Rascalz, are headlining Saturday, August 29. But Friday night, it’s all about heavy axe work and blood curdling vocals with 3 Inches of Blood opening up for Fuel Injected .45, a line-up guaranteed to bring out closet and openly metal bangers to the Squiala First Nation reserve in Chilliwack. However, Wagner admits that he is a little bit in the dark about Vancouver’s purveyors of traditional metal.

“To be totally honest, I know nothing about them,” says Wagner. “3 Inches of Blood, from what I understand, isn’t even my style of music. Some of my friends are playing [most notably SpreadEagle], but most of these bands I know nothing about.”

Wagner may not know it, but most music fans do: TIOB is a major contributing factor to Vancouver’s newly found metal pride. However, when the two low-key lead singers from TIOB sit down at The Nerve Centre, they are modest about their role in lifting the suburban stigma associated with metal.

But one can’t ignore the facts. In 2001, TIOB was the first metal act to win the Shindig band competition in 20 years. What’s more, unlike similar bands that are often lumped on all-metal bills, TIOB have become crossover masters to the point where they have shared the stage with Vancouver’s most sensitive emo act, All State Champion.

“It has always sort of been that way,” says Jami Hooper, who is does the torture-rack screeching vocals. “From the start, we’ve been billed with punk bands and hardcore bands. It’s been cool because people from other genres seem to appreciate it [the TIOB sound].”

Recently, the six-piece won best metal album for their debut LP, Battlecry Under a Winter Sun, at the Canadian Independent Music Awards. But they shrug off the possibility of becoming the Shania Twain of metal and winning best album of the year.

“I don’t see it happening,” says Cam Pipes, who is responsible for the demonic growling vocals. “There would have to be some kind of weird alignment in the stars. A lot evil forces would have to be at work for that to happen.”

Grateful as they may be for the cross-genre success that gets them booked with all kinds of bands, Hooper would still love the opportunity to perform among his own kind.

“It would be nice to play a serious metal hoedown,” says Hooper.

And they will (sorta) this Labour Day Weekend.

For more info visit DD’s web site www.domesticdisturbance.ca

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NAUGHTY CAMP Drive from Downtown Vancouver: 3-4 hours Number of Beer Gardens: BYOB Band per Buck: Approx. $1 Guaranteed Fill of: Debauchery

Thunderfist

Music

“There’s a guy who got pushed over on the crapper,” says Creepy Simon with pride, recanting one of his most memorable Naughty Camp highlights.

“I got that on video.”

When Creepy sits down to talk to The Nerve at the Naughty Camp headquarters, which is based out of a silver streamline camper parked in an industrial area on the Eastside, he is in good spirits — this despite functioning on an empty stomach. It wasn’t until half way through the interview that the source of his starvation was uncovered.

“There’s that crow,” he says calmly pointing outside.

“He took my lunch today.”

Never one to hold a grudge, Creepy carries on discussing the origins of NC politely without harming the feathered foe who continues taunting him from a phone wire.

As NC loyalists know, getting the shit knocked out of them on the john is just one of many tales from Creepy’s Crypt.

(However, due to the high standards set by this publication, we won’t go into any further detail.) He blames the high level of debauchery on the crazed Islanders who influence the young and impressionable campers.

“It sort of comes along with the example set by the hardcore Victoria punk scene, where I come from,” says Creepy.

As for the camping concept, he explains that it came more out of necessity than a burst of creativity. “[Naughty Camp] ripped off the Dope, Guns and Fucking Festival out of this warehouse I rented out in Sooke in 1995,” recalls Creepy. “We had like, eight bands play and then we ran out of beer at midnight and everyone drove home drunk — 30 miles — which is my worst fear.”

And so began the annual tradition of outdoor accommodations, double fisted rock, and fecal flying pranks. This year Creepy has booked some oldies but goodies, including NC vets, Thunderfist. Salt Lake City’s trash ‘n’ roll inbreds played the first two, but not last year’s festival because the 3rd annual event (tech-

nically 2.5) was downsized to a BBQ on Bowen Island due to financial difficulties. But lead singer Jeremy Cardenas still gets a little teary-eyed when he thinks about the good times he had with his friends north of border.

“I remember freaking out about Powerclown,” says Cardenas from his home in Mormon-ville. “I was on mushrooms and I stood up at the front of the stage and I couldn’t believe that clowns were doing Iron Maiden songs. That tripped me out for about an hour and then I had to go back to my tent because it was too much for me. So I just sat in my tent until they were done. And I missed part of the Dayglo Abortions, which is one of my favourite bands, because I was freaking out about the goddamn clowns so much.”

Luckily, Cardenas has learned from past mistakes so when he hits the NC stage this Labour Day weekend at a reserve near Oliver in the Okanagan, he will be more prepared.

“We’ll see if we can handle our drugs and alcohol a little bit better,” says Cardenas. “We’ve been training. I keep buying cases of Molson Canadian to get myself up for it.”

Creepy, on the other hand, has no intention of altering his NC strategy. He’s no more prepared this time round than previous years, even with the threat of Domestic Disturbance cutting into his profit margins.

“For me, it’s just a big party,” he says about his haphazard ways of promoting. “I’ll probably lose money again.”

For directions, exact location and ticket info visit the NC web site at www.naughtycamp.com

Music

Beat Happening Music to Climb the Apple Tree By K Records Long before being “punk” meant having multiple piercings and a Misfits t-shit, a little known DIY movement was blossoming in the Pacific Northwest led by pioneer Calvin Johnson. Beat Happening played stripped down, 3-chord pop which owed just as much to the Descendents as it did to early R.E.M. Music to Climb the Apple Tree By was originally part of the Beat Happening box-set, but has now been released separately as a collection of rare 7” recordings and b-sides. Not only for the die-hard fans, this assortment of gems is suitable for anyone interested in the origins of Indie-punk as we know it today.

-Adam Simpkins Red Hot Lovers Aint Got Time TO Waste Deathride Music

R e d H o t L ov e r s The following answers were beaten out of Red Hot Lovers’ guitarist Randy Romance.

What band or musician does your band never want to be compared to?

Ahhhh... we’ve heard them all! Everything from G N’R to Jim Morrison. I don’t think we really care what we get compared to as long as it’s not “Yanni crossed with a flaming piece of donkey shit”.

On your dream bill, what acts would you be slotted between?

Definitely AC/DC and Turbonegro. If there’s sex involved, replace AC/DC with those “cheeky bum” girls, keep Turbonegro.

What record humbles you every time you hear it and why?

The Hookers are probably the most underrated band in the heavy metal rawk scene. Equinox Beyond Tomorrow and Hookers II are both ear-blistering, gut-wrenching albums that are recorded deep into the reds. Humbling? I’d say harrowing.

What has been the worst gig to date and why?

That would be in Edmonton for our CD release last July, pants down! Dan, our singer, got pummeled in the crowd by a skinhead and finished off the rest of the set with a bloody face and an evil grin. Spit everywhere. One guy went to throw a mike stand at the skinhead and ended up nailing a girl right in the face! We have it on videotape; he looked like a Zulu warrior throwing a spear into an antelope.

(Not that she’s an antelope!.....damn) but she did try to get us arrested for months afterward, and she needed reconstructive surgery. Good times.

What is your favorite song off of Canned Hamm’s Karazma Album?

Gotta be “Hairpiece”. Talk about a blissfully entertaining voyage into insanity.... and male pattern baldness.

Sarah Rowland

11 songs of 100% pure Alberta Rock!

The guitar licks remind me of early Smalls recordings, but with much heavier vocals. I’ve seen these guys play live and they kick ass, but this recording doesn’t quite do them justice. I was drinking many beers whilst listening to this disc and “ Vagas Knights “ made me drink the fastest. A great soundtrack for camping or just staying up late in general. Their band photos look so serious yet, they have silly stage names like Randy Romance, Minty Delicious, and Charlie Horse. When did they replace Mike Hunt and Jim Nasium? Extra points for shout outs to Dry Fisted.

–Jono Jak Broken Bottles Not Pretty Finger Records Orange County flavour punk with snot nosed apathetic vocals. Jes the Mess’s vocals are so void of range and enthusiasm that the listener can only feel apathetic towards listening to these 6 songs that no one really needs to listen to anways.

-TexAsshole Consumed Pistols at Dawn BYO Records Poor Consumed, after going through as many band members as Spinal Tap had drummers and being relegated to opening slots on the Fat Wreck tours, Fat Mike gave them the hardest blow yet by refusing to release this album (coming from the guy who puts out every shameful Frenzal Rhomb record). You would think these pitfalls would slow down momentum from Nottinghamshire’s ‘hardest working band’, but think again because Consumed are as tight as ever with Pistols at Dawn. Their sound hasn’t changed much over the years, yet their bitter angst towards ex-band members and shitty past labels comes through with songs like “Home Again” and “Out On Your Own”.

With the exception of the British accents, Consumed are guilty of sounding like a handful of M.O.R. melodic hardcore bands, but their underdog status makes them all the more likeable.

-Adam Simpkins Drunk in Public 3 (DVD) Loaded Gun Productions xtremeride.net DIP 3 continues on the tradition of gen eXploits, and from what I’ve seen already, there is no stoppin’ these crazy motherfuckers from takin’ over any town in Canada and making the roof of your mother’s house a giant water slide. This DVD ain’t gonna sit well with the CAMB (coalition against mechanical brutality), but it will be a winner between the 18 to 32 year olds. What can you expect from this 3quel? Well, how ‘bout more full on crazy motor sport action with a side order of nookie, public disturbance, drunkenness and more girl hooch thrown into the low attention-span mix. If you’ve seen one of these type of videos, you pretty much seen ‘em all, yet watching crazy fuckers doing inexplicable and sometimes calculated stunts on their machines never gets old. If anything, you will be glued to the telly anticipating the next high-octane crash or a quick glimpse of some pussy. You will also see some local talent from the various moto scenes like the eXtremeriderz stunt team.

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My real beef with DIP 3 is that the music selection blows ass compared to part 2, but then again, who needs music when there’s so much sex and speed? All in all, DIP 3 is quality entertainment and really makes you wish you had the money to crash expensive shit.

-Adler Floyd Dirty Power S/T Dead Teenager Records San Fran. group with Patrick Goodwin of Pansy Division and features cool song titles like ‘ Lady Danzig’, ‘Tastes Like Burning’ and ‘Symptom Of The Unitard’. This is a queer mix of 70’s hard rock and a kind of grungey sound. Speaking of ‘grunge’, this seems to be the new ‘garage’ with bands like the Catheters, Queens Of The Stone Age and the Burning Brides all banging their heads to the early 90’s Seattle Sound. The tunes here are decent enough but I can’t get over the singing, which is kind of weak and just doesn’t cut it.

-Power Ball Extol Synergy Century Media Records Extol is one of the coolest and innovative metal bands out there. They have a distinct style all their own that is difficult to pinpoint. Their music is intricate and technical with the screamy punk/metal voice of Peter Espevoll to set things off. Synergy is a beautiful album that is manic at times, and melancholic at others. At one moment Extol is thrashy metal, and at the next they are soft, melodic, and almost innocent sounding. Their range as musicians shows just how talented they are and I could see them being one of those critically acclaimed groups that become legendary. I would not hesitate to recommend this band to anyone.

-Daniel Holiday Guff The Guff is a Disaster Go-Kart Records Ever since forming in 1999, Guff has been touring and have many adventurous stories to tell. Their music however is the kind of pop-punk that would be right at home in a summer teen movie starring Freddie Prinze Jr. and Hilary Duff. Guff has a catchy and sugary sound, also fast and melodic making it somewhat easy to listen to and is highly geared toward the teeny-punkers.

Their songs are mainly about growing up, being yourself, and dealing with loss. They’ve shared the stage with many bands including the Mighty Mighty Bosstones and Sum 41.

-Daniel Holiday Haste The Mercury Lift Century Media This is the third full-length from this Alabama sextet, and the most powerful thus far. Haste feature dual vocalists who alternate between emo-style clean singing and hardcore-style screaming a la Helmet. These contrasting vox are implemented to great effect, melding with the changing moods of the songs, plus they go a step further by adding guest vocalists from Lamb of God and Codeseven on two tracks. But the amazing range of emotions isn’t impressed upon the listener through the howls of the frontmen alone; the layered, textured guitars play an assortment of catchy and melodic rock n’ mosh riffs, and the rhythm section stands out with a fat production on the bass and drums. In fact the whole sound is crystal clear which lends itself well to the tunes. Add to all this a knack for songwriting which will have you humming for days and you have a high quality album worthy of your hardearned scratch.

-Matt Smith Joel Returned of the Fucked Flyer Records This is a beautiful CD. Returned of the fucked is an exploration in aggravated maturity. Joel delivers the right combination of acoustic mayhem and vocal tranquility. Returned of the fucked is like a night at the opera, when the lights go out, you are mesmerized. And, as Joel puts it, “zombies are fucking cool”. I couldn’t agree more.

-Adler Floyd

Labyrinth Self titled Century Media Records Formed in 1991, this band from Italy is the epitome of 80’s hair metal, too bad they missed the boat.

More accurately described as “power metal”, lead singer Roberto Tiranti could easily replace Sebastian Bach on Broadway as the lead in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Labyrinth definitely has a lot of cheese factor. This metal band uses keyboards, has a couple of ballads, and vocalist Tiranti belts out plenty of notes that makes would make one figure that he has his gonads in a vice. The songs Slave to the night sounds like the score for the video game Akari Warriors, and Synthetic Paradise mixes some trance into its intro. With this being their fourth album, Labyrinth is definitely dedicated to the “power metal” scene. This is just too cheesy and the keyboards are not necessary for this band.

-Daniel Holiday Manic Hispanic Mijo goes to jr. college BYO records Manic Hispanic is at it again, ripping off great songs and making them their own.

These guys are the Weird Al Yankovic’s of punk. A bunch of mexican punkers paying homage to their favorite songs done their way. The music stays the same, but the lyrics all change. For example: the Ramones “The KKK Took My Baby Away” gets turned into “The INS Took My Baby Away”, and TSOL’s “Code Blue” gets turned into “Code Brown”. This album is a hilarious twist on the punk rock classics. Buy it now, homes.

-DC Me first and the Gimme Gimmes Take a break Fat Wreck Chords The punk rock supergroup is at it again.

First there was the 70’s, then broadway musicals, then back to the 60’s and now a tribute to the r&b community. I got to say I never thought I’d enjoy an R. Kelly song like “I think I could fly”. But goddamn when you play it with balls instead of videotaping them (like R. Kelly), it’s actually not a bad tune. Same goes for the rest of this album. They really out did themselves again. Wonder what the next tribute is going to be, theme songs from soap operas?

-DC Metallica St. Anger Electra Records Does it rock? The answer to that question comes in two parts. N and O. They said it was heavier, that’s partially true, however, it spaces out with death metal for a couple bars then it lapses back into black album stuff with a lot of Korn-style rhythm. It’s like someone took a straw and sucked all the remaining melody out of their style.

The recording is terrible. Bob Rock tried to make the band sound “raw” or some shit but it sounds like a 4-track recording, the snare sounds like a pot. They pioneered the metal sound with Justice, why couldn’t they go back to that? Bands come into studios all the time asking for that ‘Justice’ sound. I assure you, nobody’s gonna ask for that ‘St. Anger’ sound.

It is a very different album for Metallica and if you’re a big fan, I would recommend it just for the sake of curiosity. Maybe if Bob Rock wasn’t playing bass on it they might have had some of the new bass player Rob Trujillo’s Suicidal influence.

There’s always next time but for me Metallica died on August 13th, 1991 with the release of their self titled album. As for witnessing their rebirth it’s more like their afterbirth.

-Lawrence Weiss Motion City Soundtrack I Am The Movie Epitaph The signing of Motion City Soundtrack to Epitaph Records definitely signals Brett Gurewitz’ plan to completely dominate the punk market.

Clean guitars, big choruses, and tongue-in-cheek

references to ck1 and Will and Grace, MCS wouldn’t be out of place at a Much Music barbeque opening for A Simple Plan. Apart from the extremely catchy “The future freaks me out” and likeable single “My favorite accident”, I Am The Movie is mediocre at best and probably won’t be well received by regular Epitaph customers.

-Adam Simpkins Mystic Prophecy Regressus Nuclear Blast This album has not left my car cd player except for when I’m playing it at parties.

Nuclear Blast is one of my favorite record labels right now, and this band Mystc Prophecy is a good example why this metal label is so special. From Germany, this Maiden sounding band shoots to kill with its powerful vocals and guitars. The songs Calling From Hell sounds like it was taken right out of Best of the Beast, and Eternal Flame uses a double-kick to produce a sound like machine guns.

This album also has two cover bonus tracks, Iron Maiden’s Sanctuary, and Monowar’s Fighting the World. I recommend this album.

-Daniel Holiday Selfmademan The Daylight Robbery Smallman Records There is nothing too exciting about this band yet.

The only thing working for Selfmademan is that the music they write is refreshingly sharp and to the point. The lyrics could use some work, though… maybe just a few more upbeat themes boys?! I’m tired of all the sappy shit out there. Overall, The Daylight Robbery, is a good album, but it could have been really good if not for the over-indulgingly low self-esteem lyrics.

-Adler Floyd Sonny Vicent The Good, The Bad, THe Ugly Acetate Records What do you get when you combine Mr. Vincent ( from the quasi - legendary N.Y.C. band The Testors.) with some of the greatest punk rock guitar slingers of the last 30 years or so ? Well, if your backing band is Scott Asheton and Captain Sensible and the guest shredders include Wayne Kramer, Greg Ginn, Walter Lure, Richard Lloyd and Thurston Moore, etc. I would have to say fairly uninspiring pineapple - head rock in the vein of the Heartbreakers, Humpers and Gluecifer. I really thought this would transcend me to some sort of air guitar fever, but sadly it didn’t.

-Meat Ball Superjoint Ritual A Lethal Dose of American Hatred Sanctuary Records I know the pit is full of Phil Phanatics, but the downfall of this album sits squarely on the shoulders of Captain Unscarred alone. The music is downright WICKED at ALL times, but whenever Phil starts spewing, things get awkward. Almost every song speeds up during the vocals in the same annoying way everything on the new McTallica slows down during the vocals. Phil has versatile pipes, but is stuck in a monotonous “overdrive” mode that gets tiring quick. The politically niave lyrics limit the appeal as well. Witness the embarrassing, “The American citizens/ the ost pissed-off motherfuckers in the world”. Huh? There are some magic moments when everything comes together, but rarely longer than a few seconds, then, BAM, more shit in your ears. He owes his band, and everyone who has developed mentally since they related to Vulgar Display, an apology. The smack ain’t helpin’ dude.

-J. Pee Patchez The Badamps One Word, Not Two Independent Fast and melodic punk rock that is kind of sloppy and kind of reminds me of Screeching Weasel. I found myself drifting off before I could make it through all 14 tracks, but these guys are definately a refreshing change in a sea of crooked mesh caps and a case of New York penis-envy that would even make Toronto sick.

-8 - Ball The Blood Brothers Burn Piano Island, Burn Artist Direct Records/ B.M.G When I was in high school there was this scizophrenic retard named Wendel. He liked to smoke firecrackers, sneak into the girls washroom and throw poo at people. Once, he got into a fight with

another ‘resource room’ student over a discarded sandwich in a garbage can and tried to strangle the teacher who dared to intervene. This must be what it sounded like in his brain 24/7.

The Locust Plague Soundscapes Anti- Epitaph Records

-Dirt Ball

The Locust is definitely on some next shit with their unique brand of futuro-punk/math/powerviolence, on par with Contrastic and CSSO in terms of sheer audacity in their experimentation. With screams unheard of this side of Naked City and riffs as blistering as a third degree burn, these San Diego psychos certainly live up to the buzz generated by their previous releases and I’m sure this disc will please their loyal fan-base with it’s controlled chaos. The production of Alex Newport, (ex-Nailbomb/Fudge Tunnel), and the keyboards of Joey Karam compliment the futuristic/apocalyptic theme; insane videogame-sounding effects and what sounds like the squeak of a dog’s squeeze-toy on one track don’t even begin to describe the wonders to be found on this album. And “Priest With the Sexually Transmitted Diseases Get Out of My Bed” is just one of 23 contenders for song title of the year.

Right up there with Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s latest for coolest (post) grind release of ’03.

-Matt Smith The Lovetones Be What You Want Yep Records

erase my memory / I wanna be your abductee). This record is fun as hell. Buy it.

-A.D. MADGRAS Tricky “Vulnerable” Brown Punk Records/Sanctuary Records I don’t think the people who sent this cd in to be reviewed have ever read the Nerve. Sadly, this cd that had been sitting in the box for a month accumulating dust was the only thing for me to review as the free cd devouring locusts that are the other Nerve writers snagged everything else. So I guess this review is for the two to three Nerve readers that actually enjoy Trip Hop. Yeah, I bet you guys drink wine too you big pussies. There are some neat covers of “Love Cats” by the Cure and “Dear God” by XTC and the press release says this album is Tricky at his best. Too bad that’s a load of bullshit. Pick up “Maxinequaye” or some early Massive Attack if you ever wanna see him in fine for.

Metal!

Carnal Forge The More You Suffer Century Media

The Lovetones are an Australian group whose mellow sounds are best compared to those of Coldplay.

Some of their songs are written in simple minimalist style, but the problem is their songs are all too slow, even their faster songs are too lethargic. They make use of orchestral instruments making them suitable for the Much More Music crowd. Lyrically, vocally, and instrumentally The Lovetones are a sound band, but they are just too boring.

-Daniel Holiday The Riverboat Gamblers Something to Crow About Gearhead Records

Hatesphere Bloodred Hatred Century Media

Once again, Texas garage-punk legend Tim Kerr has used his Midas-touch production skills on yet another superb outfit to join the ranks of his “Young Lions Conspiracy” (although the album doesn’t don the YLC logo as it does w/ others such as The Chargers Street Gang, The Soledad Brothers, and his own Now Time Delegation - but I did notice the initials scrawled on the bassist’s pickguard on the inside sleeve photos). There’s a lot of magic comin’ outta Austin, TX’s Sweatbox Studios lately w/ Mr. Kerr & Mike Vasquez workin’ the knobs ... and has had a long history of doing so ... mike Mariconda (New Bomb Turks, Devil Dogs, Spaceshits, Bulemics, etc.) did most of his magnum opus producing from there as well. Anyway, case in point ...

Dallas, TX’s Riverboat Gamblers have come up with the best rock’n’roll album of the year ... hands down. From the lyrically relentless “Hey, Hey, Hey”, “What’s What” *& “Ooh Yeah”, to the caudal-been penned-by-early-Misfits “Ice Water”, the catchy sing-alongs of “Rattle Me Bones”, “Dead Again” & “Catch Your Eye”, to the epic anthem “Last To Know”, this is all one could ask for in a punk r’n’r record. Intelligent lyrics, party back-ups & a tight-as-a-Mennonite band that can still show soul ... ya gotta formula that can’t lose. The macabre ‘suicide’ theme running throughout doesn’t even make the party stop for a bit! Gearhead Records (yes, the label of the awese mag ... hmm, what an idea!?) is still somewhat at a ‘Ma & Pa’ level despite their roster of bands (New Bomb Turks, The Hives, The Hellacopters, etc.), but considering their track record, they’re gonna be a label you can buy a record ‘ear unheard’ & never be disappointed ... yep.

-Roche Throw Rag Desert Shores BYO Records Throw Rag are pirates. Bad-ass punk pirates from the Salton Sea, located 227 feet below sea level DEEP in the heart of southern California. Watch this… I’m gonna call this record a treasure. This record sounds live, but it’s not, which is what you want and from what I can tell, it’s their 2nd release, the first being something called Tee-Tot. But they don’t sing about pirate stuff, it’s more just how they are. These guys all wear white boots or white shoes.

They have a washboard player, some California sun-baked space surf stuff goin’ on, a pinch of pickled, salted Brit punk, and one song titled (I’m stuck in a) “Bag of Glue” and another one called “Space Hump Me” (take me, take me /

Typical steak-head metal in the vein of new Slayer or even late Carcass with those angry, tough guy “ I’m mad, I have a small dink !” vocals. Catch ‘em at Studebakers any day now.

J.J. Hammerhawk

A laughable command of the English language with lyrics that sound like they were stolen from a 14 year old girl’s diary. Brutally gay.

J.J. Hammerhawk Helloween Rabbit Don’t Come Easy Nuclear Blast Latest from the dudes who brought you classics like “Keeper Of The Seven Keys (parts 1 and 2) and featuring Mikkey Dee from Motorhead on the skins! Sounds great, doesn’t it? Basically, putting out an album of this calibre is like scuba-diving in a tepid bathtub with a dick for a snorkel.

J.J. Hammerhawk M.O.D. The Rebel You Love To Hate Nuclear Blast People who find this funny should be shot, I don’t care how good the production is. Making fun of Limp Bizkit and Rammstein at this point in the game is like that retard at work who still tells Monica Lewinsky jokes around the water cooler, assholes.

J.J. Hammerhawk Naglfar Sheol Century Media This is alright, once you get past the pronounciation. Fairly fast and sick black metal, but I really haven’t heard anything that shit my mind since mid- period Marduk, Emperor or Mayhem.

J.J. Hammerhawk Psilocybinide Across For Sympathy...

Independent Marginal 6 song demo of heavy, repetitive sludge rock. At times, the fucked up female vocals remind me of Jucifer or Acid King. This is really a poor representation of these guys, because they kill live and are one of the few bands I know of that are doing this type of thing around here. If you like the heavy stuff ( and I know you do), go check ‘em out.

J.J. Hammerhawk

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20

It’s Rainin’ Men!

Scrapyard

by Ainsworth

Bumblebees Fight the Skeltons

“

I declare this new bridge open!” howled out Bumblebee Marlon, the Mayor of Beetown. This enormous bridge had been built at immense cost in money and lives. Indeed, the main support pillars had been built in a single pour and a Bumblebee labourer had lost his grip, and, well, plunged to his death. His body was still there, inside the bridge. It was called the Bumblebee Memorial Bridge for that very sad reason and it spannned Upper Bee-town to the north and the rough Wheat District to the south.

There were balloons and streamers in pretty colours and there were pretty colours everywhere. It was so great and also beautiful and the sun was up there, shining. It was an awesome bridge, and a tribute to the wise and clever Bees who conceived it!

But then the earth started rumbling!

Damn it! It was the BIG one, a huge earthquake. Bumblebee Marlon and his entourage, and the town lead-bees, and some newspaper bees were out in the open on the broad concrete roadway, and they were all jiggling and shaking like something crazy. It was a death dance and Mrs. Davies the Bumblebee heiress accidentally slipped over and her baby went over the side of the bridge. That bumblebee baby fell into a huge crack in the earth, and was gone. Gas lines were rupturing everywhere, and with a mammoth whhooshh! a huge bitch of a fire started up.

“Everyone let’s not panic!” The mayor was putting on a brave front, but no one heard him. Another baby bumblebee fell from the bridge, this one got impaled on a huge spike and it caught on fire. The baby bee was still a little bit alive so it burned alive. I saw all this; a great day for Bee-Town turned into a slaughter. It was a depressing day of tragedy for BeeTown. Then Bumbleebee Marlon slipped on some guts, he went down hard, and the rumbling feelings pushed him off the bridge. God was with him, though, because he caught a snapped cable and dangled there. He was a

strong Bumblebee, hell, he was the Mayor.

He looked down at his shaken but unbroken city. The cricket pitch was split in two, he noticed with a curse. Sister Mary’s Church and Home for Unwed Mothers was a Roman candle of screams! And then an assbang big aftershock hit, like a cyclone! A great shaft of rock tore though Dixie Street, next to the BMX store, the windows were shattered and bikes strewed the street. Dixie Street had a huge open cavern in the middle of it.... Bumbelebee Marlon, who was the first Chinese mayor Bee-Town ever had., was shocked at what he saw, in the canyon of burning rock.

It was, literally, unbelievable. There were... creatures in that pit, moving man-bees? How could they be alive in that death pit... NO! Oh GOD NO! “Jesus Christ no!

Skeltons! SKELTONS FROM THE UNDERGROUND! They exist!” His grandmother had told him fairy tales about the blood thirst skeletal fiends that lived below. Homosexuals bent on bloodshed, they were the walking dead.

“It’s all over for us bees! We don’t stand a chance!”

He was right. Thousands of skeltons poured out, punching everything and impaling babies on their bayonets and setting babies in fire and then pissing out the fires.

Here is a description of the Skelton Leader, Andrew, and you will know even more why this skelton attack was bad news. He was almost six feet tall, and on his skull he had a helmet with other skulls dangling off, and he wore armour made of leather; it was like a fetish night, except for real. He was wearing armour of a deep forest green, and there was blood squirting from his sword. In fact, he had a young bumblebee boy impaled on his sword.

That kid was jumping like he had a symptom.

Then he died. I wish you could have seen Skelton Andrew’s face right then; he was grinning like the cat!

He yelled out something terrible in the strange, vowel-heavy multisyllable skelton language. Interestingly, the skeltons used what appeared to be a Grecian-influenced alphabet, but which had developed naturally about 1400 years ago. I say interestingly, because the consonant-vowel rhythm of the dialect suggested

that a semitic-style syllabary would be more appropriate. Nevertheless, the skeltons had developed an impressive body of literature!

(Check out “An Ode to the Family Hearth and Home”!) But now they just wanted to put their hands up girl bumblebee’s XXX’s so deep the bumblebees broke their bee-pelvises and split apart in a golden shower of goar! It was that kind of day for the skeltons! Then the skeltons pissed on the butchered bumble-ladies! It was super-hot, if that’s your thing, and don’t think for a minute that I’m presuming that you, specifically, are into forced sex and submission games. I was there and I am just saying what

happened and what it seemed like.

“Make sure to put a lot of goar all over the roof of L’insitute de l’art Plastique!”

Andrew was determined to violate every part of Bee-Town, including its foremost museum.

Skelton James, he was a nut, he sat down for a minute to piece together three sticks, each exactly three feet long. To be more precise, they were hollow tubes made of steel. He made a mighty phallus, pointed at the end… I’m sorry to say that staff was the exact diameter of the average male bees back area. He pushed four bees on it! Oh god it was a squirming the likes of which I don’t believe I’ll ever get to see again even should I live to be seventy!

It was like a bunch of Viet-Nam vets got together and just said, “hey, lets go for it!” It was truly a shish-kebab of horror that I won’t soon forget. Next thing you know the Skelton tanks were there, rolling and roaring like mythical beasts, like dinosaurs. Bee-Town wept and was crushed. So much horror I can’t even say about it all.

Bumbleeebee Marlon looked down over his fallen town. He hung there for a few minuts, but his mind was just a jelly. After a while, his strength just gave out and he fell into the fire.

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s FEAST OF DEATH Cinemuerte 5 in review t r a i g h t

Film

This year’s Cinemuerte was a mixed bag in more ways than one. An expanded line-up and a broader focus brought all sorts of carnal delights and head-scratching moments. While the future of Cinemuerte may be in doubt (founder Kier-la Janisse has taken a leave of absence from Vancouver), Cinemuerte 5 itself was a decidedly unique experience. Here’s a brief look at this year’s offerings: BLOOD FEAST 2: ALL U CAN EAT (Herschell Gordon Lewis) As garbage-y as expected, but mildly fun in a ridiculous kind of way. Absolutely nothing has changed about Lewis’ aesthetic in 40 years, from the insane close-ups of blood-covered entrails, to the over-the-top, maniacal lead actors. John Waters livens things up a bit as a pederast priest. [BO]

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CELLULOID HORROR (Ashley Fester) It’s pretty much impossible to stay objective on this one (a documentary about Cinemuerte itself and Kier-la’s triumphs and tribulations), but it’s a solidly made film that remains emotionally relevant for anyone who cares about film. While there’s a certain immediacy missing, Kierla’s struggles are deeply cinematic in that “stranger than fiction” kind of way, and the film is revealing without being obtrusive.

[BO]

GAMES (Curtis Harrington) What can I say about GAMES? James Caan has claimed to have an illustrious career, but the more I see of it, the less I agree. This “taut psychological thriller” leaves a lot to be desired. The effects are especially poor, the acting hackneyed, and the direction non-existent. James Caan is the macho husband with an addiction to col-

by Bjorn Olson & Joe Balogh

lectables and Katherine Ross his sucker wife who invites a Czechoslovakian saleswoman to stay with them. GAMES could have been great if either of the main characters had been remotely sympathetic, and while it has its moments, for the most part it was painful to watch. The ten-minute short preceding it, USHER, was excellent, but I should have left after that. [JB] GUYANA CRIME OF THE CENTURY (Rene Cardone Jr.) Exhaustingly terrible garbage that is somehow still being exhibited and foisted upon innocent festival audiences. Just about as excruciating as any movie has the right to be, and most aggravatingly, utterly devoid of prurient thrills. I’d just like to pretend it never happened. [BO]

MASSACRE AT CENTRAL HIGH (Rene Daalder) A classic ‘70s high school slasher flick demonstrating that schoolyard bullies cannot be killed by conventional methods, for many more will fill the hierarchy postmortem. The only option is to kill everyone.

For a slasher movie, there isn’t much gore, which is a little disappointing but understandable since the killer has such a penchant for explosives (besides, the cheesy lines and T ‘n’ A make up for it). It’s more a laugh riot than a seriously frightening film, but nonetheless, a fine experience. [JB]

JAMES ELLROY’S FEAST OF DEATH (Vikram Jayanti) Works best as a character study of brilliant, post-pulp writer Ellroy, and his fascination with murder. We get to follow Ellroy around, and delve into his personal life, and every once in a while he stares at the camera and you feel guilty for even being in the same room as a projected image of him.

While the solution to the Black Dhalia murder case (that Ellroy’s been obsessed with for most of his life) posited here works better on paper, Ellroy himself fascinates.

[BO]

ORLAN: CARNAL ART (Stephan Oriach) While the concept behind what French artist Orlan is doing (sculpting her face via plastic surgery to resemble definitive works of art) is interesting, the film capturing her work is not. Oriach makes the fatal mistake of allowing several intellectuals to pontificate on Orlan’s art rather than letting it speak for itself. A simple, objective document of Orlan’s surgeries and exhibitions would have made more sense, and although the times where she does speak what comes out of her mouth is far more cryptic and jargon-y than necessary, we don’t get nearly enough perspective from Orlan herself. The result seems more like a vanity project than anything. [BO]

LET ME DIE A WOMAN (Doris Wishman) A woefully ill-conceived quickie in classic Wishman fashion, LET ME DIE is an often hilarious curio from a more innocent time (the late 70s!). The kind of trashy oddity best seen in large groups in order to fashion makeshift drinking games around its countless absurdities, and then forgotten about in a drunken haze. [BO]

PRETTY POISON (Noel Black) There’s nothing like a good Anthony Perkins thriller. Director Black manages to get great, stirring performances from Perkins and his co-star Tuesday Weld.

Perkins plays a recently paroled arsonist with a shit assembly-line job who develops a relationship with the seventeen year-old Weld, by convincing her that he is a secret agent who needs her help. Weld then com-

mences a killing spree, which she justifies as important spy work. Weld is very convincing here, and Perkins’ reactions are both hilarious and very disconcerting, playing the simple guy who’s forced to go along for the ride to a ‘T’. Highly recommended.

[JB] REVENGER’S TRAGEDY (Alex Cox) Alex Cox has been fairly quiet since his mid-eighties streak of brilliance so here’s hoping this magnificent return to form will regain him some of his much deserved cult.

In a blisteringly intense performance, Christopher Eccleston toplines a superb cast in this adaptation of Thomas Middleton’s 1607 play (sublimely adapted by Frank Cottrell Boyce).

REVENGER’S TRAGEDY is a timeless story, breathlessly brought to life here with Cox managing to make it seem neither dated, nor having his futuristic setting appear as window dressing. Worth seeking out. [BO] VIVA LA MUERTE (Fernando Arrabal) While Arrabal has been compared to Pasolini and Jodorowsky, this unfocused work pales in comparison to both. While visually interesting, Arrabal’s analogies between religion, sex and fascism are pretty basic. Cool opening title song though. [BO] ZOMBIE (Lucio Fulci) Not much happens, nor is the film particularly revolutionary, but what can I say; these are some of the most lovingly created, beautifully filmed death and dismemberment scenes I’ve ever seen. [BO] For more Cinemuerte reviews, check out Sinister Sam below.

by Sinister Sam

FILLING IN SOME BLANKS – SINISTER SAM AT CINEMUERTE This year’s CINEMUERTE Fantastic/horror film festival seemed a little more low-key than usual, probably because of things going too smoothly, but the major one being the absence of one Anthony Timpson (the organizer of the INCREDIBLY STRANGE FILM FESTIVAL in New Zealand). Along with the loud Cinemuerte team “mascot” Kelly, Anthony

also seemed to play a major role in keeping the party together, Kier-La swimming in the ocean, and motorboat rides for all. There were some other key alcohol-flowing distributor guys missing that also used to keep the fest rocking to the wee hours of the night. All in all though, it was one of the best fests yet, with a very strong contingent of film for the spectators, a

very heavy mover guest — John Saxon, a very straightforward, almost hassle-free environment, and we all got to go to bed on time every night. Kier-La somehow pulled it off yet again, keeping the true film fans stoked and the posers guessing. The new word “fantastic” in the roster caused a choice hoopla as some couldn’t make heads or tails of the word f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c inadvertently pitched against the old festival title h-o-r-r-o-r. It’s hard to believe some people come out of their graves for the horror films without still reading the program.

Anyways — I’ve been called upon to talk shit about some of the films that played, so here goes: CASTLE OF PURITY (1972 Dir: Arturo Ripstein) After the harrowing evening of VIVA LA MUERTE, CASTLE OF PURITY was another amazing effort from the old school of surrealists that pitted themes that only a surrealist would consider, in with harsh reality. Reality, being the fact that a husband and father decided to lock his family in a house for 18 years never letting them see the harmful outside world. It takes its nod and style from Kurosawa’s I LIVE IN FEAR (although PURITY is a true story), and easily manipulates the film stock to stoke the fires underneath THE MOOR’S HEAD. Very powerful filmmaking with a woman’s blank stare as a conclusion that rivals even Garbo’s at the end of QUEEN CHRISTINA.

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LEMORA: A CHILD’S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL (1974 Dir: Richard Blackburn) Kier-La was worried as hell if guest Mr. Blackburn was going to be horrified at the idea of participating in séance to try and get Rainbeaux Smith’s spirit to grace the theatre. I was more worried that the pre-filming was going to make my neighbours across the alley think that I’m some cheesy fucking warlock dude having a séance in my apartment (yeah, I say this while I play Darkthrone on the stereo).

The séance worked out all right, but not as all right as the heavy creepy atmosphere of Blackburn’s minor masterpiece LEMORA. Reminds me of NIGHT OF THE DEVILS, but with even more of an abstract flavour, and darkness abounding. Another neat fact is that I forgot what the fucking film is and had a major flash back as it got rolling: “Fuck, I used to own this.”

SOFT FOR DIGGING (2002 Dir: J.T. Petty) Watch how a creepy, straight-forward, static, slow burn film can be RUINED single handed by new breed horror flash editing. Like having a real nice day and then being stuck in a fucking JACOB’S LADDER student film nightmare. Whatever though, if the splicing tools were left alone, the director definitely showed

More Gore on page 24...

Skate

a k S te M Warped Tour 2003

T

his year’s Warped Tour was a scorcher. It was hot outside, hot on stage and hot on the ramp. It was so hot I thought Nelly was going to sing “it’s getin’ hot in here!!”

Luckily he didn’t.

The weather was warm and threatened rain in the afternoon. You know, the warm sticky rains that last a few minutes and give you a refreshing break from the heat. I brought a backpack that day filled with the essential supplies: jacket, sunscreen, extra shirt, paper and pen. I should have left it behind. The rain never came and the sun shined all afternoon.

Stupid weather forecasters.

On Friday around noon, I hooked up with ace photographer Bob. We cruised out to meet up with the notorious Nerve Magazine Posse. They hooked us up with a ride. We took a slow cruise around Vancouver, singin’ along with some Trucker Country on an 8-track cassette and sipping whiskey.

We pulled into the parking lot and the magic continued. We scooped a great spot and a lovely lady handed us a free parking pass to Thunderbird Stadium parking lot. Previous years saw the line-up for Warped tour slow and tedious. This year it was a freaking breeze.

en ace

There was no line-up and the security gave my backpack only a quick look inside. Wow!!

Inside, the bands were rockin. I cruised quickly through the little exhibition area and went onto the field. The main stages were right next to each other and as one band ended, another started pretty much right away. This is a great change from Warped/Lollapalooza tours past when the crowd herded from one end of the field to the other.

Upon reading the schedule for the day, I almost wept. The Dropkick Murphys, Unseen, and Suicide Machines shows were going to be overlapping. Oh well, off to the Vert Ramp.

The Vert Ramp already had a session going. Caballero, Mike Frazier, John Comer and Jesse Fritch were skating the ramp. There was a BMeXican on the ramp as well … luckily he didn’t do much damage to the surface of the ramp. A couple of local rippers, including John Raimondo, were representing Vancouver’s non-existent Vert scene.

Cab skated strong and the crowd loved it. There was even a guy screaming for Cab to “Marry me!” Steve pulled out a long session that included backside fingerflips, frontside inverts, and the Cabellerial.

Mike Frazier has one rad style. When he does any air tricks, he tweaks them so far over the ramp’s lip that it looks like he is going to hang up on the way in. I never saw him hang up on any of these overtweaked airs — until he wanted to. Mike threw a huge boned-out backside air to disaster and the sound rang out so loud the band almost stopped.

John Comer skated strong and threw out great one-foot tail grabs. Actually, all of his airs were one footed as John only has one leg.

That fact isn’t what makes him a pro, though, it’s simply how damn good he skates, I mean, considering. Jesse Fritch is an up and coming skater. He took charge of the ramp and showed everyone what technical vert skating is, in the new millennium; three sixty backside flips, frontside nollie three-sixties, backside nosegrinds — nollie back in, and fakie 540 tailgrabs.

That trick list is just what I could figure out!

After they took down the Vert ramp, it was time to eat. I paid nearly $10 for a donair. With no money left over for anything else, I checked out bands for the rest of the day.

I am a little disappointed with Vans.

The Warped Tour used to have an amateur contest series at every event. They also had miniramp demos up until last year. I guess there is less and less room on the Warped Tour for skateboarding. Maybe next year they’ll only

have a picture gallery filled with photos of skateboarding.

Don’t Forget!

The Vancouver bowl series has been going on for the last four weeks. Except for the rained out day at Griffin, the sessions have been phenomenal. All the skaters have been ripping and the beer relay at Selynn was a blast. Come out to the White Rock and Whistler comps and you won’t be disappointed.

Bowl Series contest at White Rock on Aug 10 and the Whistler Final on Aug 24. Bonus contest at the Hastings Bowl on Sept 7 The Menace

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Found!

Scraps

Gore

Continued

promise.

KINGDOM OF THE SPIDERS (1977 Dir; Bud Cardos) Yeah, we all laugh at William Shatner now, but in another ten years he’ll be looked upon like a godly actor. Maybe he’ll be the next Timothy Carey. WHO ELSE could pull anything off like he can? You WANT TO WATCH HIM ACT; unlike some new dipweed pseudo Hollywood actor like fucking what’s his name. A very choice film with many tarantulas stalking an underpaid little girl ready to have a heyday, make my girlfriend and mascot Kelly faint and the nihilistic ending still has me to this day.

There’s my girlfriend still lying on the floor and me ready with a glass of water sincerely creeped out.

THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (1962 Dir: Mario Bava) Oh yeah, I like this film. It helped to build the stage for the world of the giallo (Italian thriller) film and features some early talent from this year’s guest of honour John Saxon (did anyone have enough balls to get their copy of CANNIBAL APOCALYPSE signed?). A lot of shit gets spilled when people start to have the “this film started the giallo cycle,” “this film did that,” “this film fucked that up,” etc… THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH plays around in the genre and certainly helped to build a heavy foundation, but here’s my humble opinion on the giallo milestone subject: 1964 – Ernesto Gastaldi’s LIBIDO 1964 – Mario Bava’s BLOOD AND BLACK LACE 1967 – Giulio Questi’s DEATH LAID AN EGG 1968 – Umberto Lenzi’s ORGASMO 1969 – Dario Argento’s BIRD WITH THE CRYSTAL PLUMMAGE 1970 – Sergio Martino’s STRANGE VICE OF SIGNORA WARDH Those are the films that put all the nails in the giallo coffin. Anything after that was stylized AFTER THOSE. Martino’s TORSO and Bava’s BAY OF BLOOD fucked more shit up, but the titles above should be checked out to see exactly what made the giallo boat rock.

Anyways, THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH is atmospheric as hell, comes across without a hitch, and has an amazing PROFONDO ROSSO style ending that still makes me jump.

ALUCARDA (1975 Dir: Juan Lopez Moctezuma) Strangely enough, this film has had a resurgence in the world of the genre film fan, probably due to the recent re-release on DVD, and also due to the sheer over the top fashion of this fucking Satanic masterpiece. Unlike other skin filled masterful possessed nunnery exploitations like D’Amato’s seminal IMAGES IN THE CONVENT (Poala Senatore!), ALUCARDA likes to get into the bloody stuff, the screaming stuff, and the burned demonic heads roll, even on our old off-skirt VHS prints of (aka) INNOCENTS FROM HELL. The evil energy and raw fucking simplicity of this film wipes the viewer into all heathen livelihood,

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HEY! This is a new section where we rip off what many other magazines have done and print shit that people like you find on the street everyday.

SO, start picking up other people’s garbage and send it to us! FOUND! c/o The Nerve Magazine, 508 - 825 Granville St., Vancouver, B.C., V6Z 1K9 Each month we’ll pick a couple submissions and then send you a mystery prize! Probably some t-shirts or come cd’s or half my head cheese sandwich. The Stuff below was Found! by Michael Mann, he won some good stuff.

tearing away at the exploitation as you grasp for the leviathan’s goat head and the Alucarda screaming, yelling AAIIIIEEEEE burned corpse cinders. Or … at least that’s what I got from the film.

HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD (1961 Dir: Mario Bava) Here’s yet another Bava film that I can watch again and again. His films like to stick me into a carnival style haunted house atmosphere that I CANNOT get enough of. All of the gothic sixties era Italian horror films have that effect on me, and HAUNTED WORLD is no exception. Proving after CALITKI and BLACK SUNDAY that he is the master of black and white, Bava can also pull the strings and make the world of colour turn a film into a masterwork of atmosphere dripping with horror-filled imagery. The bleeding skies during Herc’s water crossing are enough to have me wait in utter anticipation for Bava’s unequalled version of Hades. Amazing tricks are used to place the viewer into a world of dark “fantasy,” all the while achieving a sense of new realism that Tim Burton can only hope to try and pull off. I try to put Bava’s PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES into the same vein as HAUNTED WORLD, but Bava’s grasp of the horror aesthetic always has me stacking almost ALL his sixties work, horror and fantasy alike, into the same pile. Seeing this Italo-horrific-technical masterwork on 35mm was just the icing on the cake.

There’s my version of this year’s CINEMUERTE FANTASTIC FILM FESTIVAL. Until next month’s classic vamp article … bad 35mm fucking dreams everyone!

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TV CROSSWORD Across 1. Eminem hit 5. Addition word 9. Odor 14.Otis and_____ 15. Famous Broadway musical 16. Day before tomorrow 17. Fancy restaurant on the Simpsons 18. Egyptian deity 19. Merge as one 20. Another one bites _____ 22. Strikes as in the bible 23. Terrence ______ D’arby 24. Jumped 26. Popular punk band turned goth sellouts 27. His judgment cometh _____ that right ____ (Shawshank redemption) 30. Cigarette dropping 33. A means to ______ 35. Unlawful assembly 36. Genetic code medium 37. Ink 40. Those opposed 41. Suit 43. Egret 44. Bigots org.

45. Ghetto _____ 48. Dope 50. Absorb information 51. Make feel better 55. Michael Corleone and Tony Montana 58. Soap dodgers, tree huggers ,etc.

59. Viable excuse 60. Mimicked 62. French but 63. Colgate product 64. Tractor trailer 65. Scottish ass 66. Basic Instinct star 67. Creature in Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator 68. Bailey and King Cole Down 1.Porn 2. Like a drum 3. Aller?

4. Without a clue 5. Capital of Kosovo 6. ______we forget 7. ______brow (like Rollins) 8. Peter and Vitus (abbrv)

r z d y l r n l b b z n beach hotrod y e r i bikini c beerb o r coldo beert r h ice cold beerz o v a sunburn t n i b sweat sunstroke t l d s patio u m a b skateboard b p r v hot tub skirts x k a v rooftop p fourn am d m midnight a j tswim a festival t r w i camping i n i k fishing barn o lpartyu l campfire forest fire motor bike hospital liveporn radiator road trip

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9. UnPC amputees 56. Not a small amount 10. Computer screen 57. Former Blue jays coach 11. What Heather Watson used Gaston to do at The Nerve 58. Prefix meaning half 12. Tardy 60. Inquire 13. Soaps 61. Stylo 21. In shape 22. Unhappy 24. Small portable light 25. Ewok’s planet I B E R T O R R 28. Pig sound S U T A H I R I E 29. Cranny’s partnerNLast Issue’s Solution: 30. Commercials E T D A V E N E E D 31. Diss R O B S I M P S O N S 32. ______Satan!

O L A 34. Wild blue yon- T O R E P E G G Y B U N D Y der 38. Britany Spears S A B R A M I R E S “________ it L D E E M S T E L E again” R A M P Y A L E 39. ______ Dogg E S E P O T T E R S M S N 42. Ousted Afghani regime P A L R A T S 46. Doddering E T I E S T E L L S 47. The _____ of R V A L E V O I C E Piglet E V A N E P S O M 49. Head hauncho S 52. Crownlet R E P O E A T S 53. Robbery 54. Winding turns 55. Riley and Sajak

k b e n c h g e o p x n acid u trip s e n a i o v j a park c bench q p w d h t h f head under the stars o r t s n u s o b h p d n i e n i r d f i o g p v d f b d y r h h c a e b i u i t e b o a r d k g r d o v i u t t e c z i i p e u h c y c u c o l d b e e r a t a r u o f s j t m r y r o a d t r i p q e p o r n a y o i z t f s k i r t s n y l a t i p s o h g u

TV z oWORD z d oSEARCH! e n m w

Tomb Raider: Angel of darkness Developer: Core Design Publisher: Eidos Platform: PC Rating: Teen Web: eidos.com 3 years and 5000 polygons later, we have a new Tomb Raider game and Croft’s tits still don’t fuckin’ bounce. What’s going on here? All the little kids are waiting for those sweater puppies to have just a bit of motion. Now that I ponder it, I don’t even think the TR movie had bouncy funbags… and that’s just wrong. Anyway, Angel of Darkness is a pretty bad fuckin’ game. It’s no secret that they rushed the game so it would come out in conjunction with the movie sequel. After 7 years, you’d think that they would make these games a little different… but no dice… you still do the same shit; walk, shimmy, jump and hang on to crap, move shit, shoot dogs… but this time it’s so fuckin’ slow it’s like Lara is a fuckin’ snail. The makers implemented this new bullshit feature that doesn’t work well at all. Lara now gains strength and stamina by moving and finding shit, so if she does-

n’t complete a task- like moving crate around, she will not gain enough strength to jump across a ledge and complete the level. It’s just a cheap way to make the game longer. Plus, the controls are twitchy, you’ll be dying all the time because of them, so keep saving your games every few mins. The enemies and sound are buggy, some clipping problems…. The only good things about the game are its new shiny graphics and the story line, which has the feeling of a short film. Overall, this game feels like a beta and not a full release, too short, too buggy, and no bouncy teets.

Adler Floyd Eye Candy: 4 Tunes: 2.5 Gameplay: 2.5 Chill Factor: 1 Verdict: Go buy the Jewel Raider DVD instead and I guarantee you’ll have more fun.

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Fun...

NERVELAND SMUT RANCH It is August and I wanted to do something special for the last month of summer. Summer is known to be a time when kids frequently experiment with drugs and alcohol. So I thought, “why not try experimenting with anal sex if you have not explored this option yet?” Why should one explore anal sex you might ask? Well, for starters, your girlfriend won’t get pregnant and if she’s already got a stretched out pussy, the virgin ass will provide a space as tight as a first timer. Anal stimulation can also be pleasurable for a guy too, apparently, as it stimulates the prostate. This month I’ve reviewed a couple of videos that are dedicated to the back door.

A Guide to Anal Sex for Women This video has educational value as it takes you step by step into the world of anal penetration. It is useful for those who want to experience anal sex for the first time and for those who just want to see how the pros prepare for anal sex. This film has a segment on butt plugs and anal stimulation.

You are also taken step by step through the procedure of an enema. The lady whom the enema is being performed on says: “it feels like you’ve got to fart.” This film is educational and interesting, but way too long. A half-hour instructional video would have been sufficient. There is too much talking in this video as everything is explained and analyzed. There is some fucking that goes on in the background and full on anal sex does occur in this video.

Mission To Uranus Starring: Alisha Klass, McKayla Matthews, Angelica Sin, Michele Raven, Mary Jane, Tom Byron, Lexington Steele, Hakan Serbes.

Produced by Seymore Butts Starting with a series of butt shots, fuck frenzies, gaping ass holes, underwater strap-on ass fucking, and reaming rods penetrating to find that sweet spot, this film showed a lot of promise.

There was even a Ron Jeremy cameo in the opening scenes. When the actual story starts, some girl is arriving home early in the morning and wakes up her boyfriend to tell him about all the people she ran into (the cast). She then leads him to another room where three girls and Tom Byron are making out. Tom gets a BJ with a finger stuck up his butt while plenty of girl on girl action goes on around him. Once the pussy penetration got tiresome, it took a back seat to anal penetration. Tom’s testicles began to look a lot like an accordion right before he busted a comer. All three girls lapped up his man juice and enjoyed every minute of it. Later that afternoon… McKayla Mathews and Lexington Steele meet up and get it on. McKayla is a hot blonde and Lex is a tall black dude with a huge cock (I’m not kidding). McKayla starts by sucking Lex’s cock but she can only stick about a quarter of it in her mouth. Then, of course, they fuck. This movie has weak dialog, and no real plot. A brief description is provided of where and when these events occur. This film has almost a documentary feel to it as they mix in real events such as footage from a strip club and sex convention in Brussels. Even though this film is titled Mission To Uranus, I didn’t think that enough emphasis was put onto the butt… and there simply were not enough sex scenes.

You may wonder where and when anal sex first occurred. I don’t have the answer to this, but I do know that according to Freud, anal fixation begins around the age of two years, or when toilet training starts. This shifts the attention from the mouth to the ass. At this stage the child learns about control and the lack of control. Depending on how this stage works out, or what effects it has on the child, a certain amount of pleasure can be associated with this area if results are found to be positive to the individual. This may lead people to again revisit this area later on in life. If you have never explored this area, try experimenting, but remember to relax, start off small, and use plenty of lubricant.

Next month: School is back in session and I will be reviewing films about hot slutty coeds who get it on.

Max Crown

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