The Nerve Magazine - September 2004 by The Nerve Magazine

* So Far So Good So What

Rude Awakening DVD

The new studio album ‘The System Has Failed’ includes: ‘Die Dead Enough’ ‘Blackmail The Universe’ and ‘Kick The Chair’.

Still Alive And Well?

Rude Awakening

Available Sept. 14

The World Needs A Hero

Rust In Peace

Risk

The System Has Failed MD.45 The Craving

Countdown To Extinction

Youthanasia

Peace Sells But Who’s Buying

ALL MEGADETH CDs SPECIALLY PRICED! Downtown Vancouver: 556 Seymour St. 687-5837 / South Vancouver: 732 SW Marine Drive 321-5112 East Vancouver: 3433 E. Hastings St. 298-0464 / Coquitlam: 2739 Barnett Hwy 468-1111 / Burnaby: 4568 Kingsway 439-0223 Surrey: 10280 135th. St. 589-7500 / Langley: 20460 Langley Bypass 533-8600 / Abbotsford: 2369 McCallum Rd. 859-4200 Downtown Victoria: 641 Yates Street 385-1461 / Downtown Nanaimo: 9 Commercial Street 753-3241

*While Supplies Last

Cryptic Writing

Innards

Cover Stor y

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

With the potential to merchandise their own line of underwear, 8-Ball figures that The Briefs must be sitting on a goldmine. We think it’s probably just a couple of nuggets.

Pistol Whipper (a/k/a Music Editor) Adrian Mack mack@thenervemagazine.com The Getaway Driver (a/k/a Production Manager) Pierre Lortie

production@thenervemagazine.com

2 Bit Rounder (a/k/a Editorial Assistant) Ryan Calvery, Sean Law

Weapons Cleaner (a/k/a Article Editor) Jon Azpiri, Shawn Conner Surveillance Team (a/k/a Photographers) Laura Murray, Jeremy Van Nieuwkerk, Miss Toby Marie

Launderer (a/k/a Book Editor) J. Pee Patchez Shotgun (a/k/a Film Editor) Jackie Dives The Henchmen (a/k/a Design & Graphics) Pierre Lortie, Annie Totalenkrieg, Chris Trudeau The Muscle (a/k/a Staff Writers) Atomick Pete, A.D. MADGRAS, Cowboy TexAss, Casey Bourque, Sinister Sam, Adler Floyd, Aaronoid, Billy Hopeless, D-Rock and Miss Kim, Michael Mann, Adrian Mack, Jake Poole, Max Crown, 8Ball, Carl Spackler, Richard Murray, E.S Day, David Bertrand Girl Friday (a/k/a Subscriptions/Mailouts) Sue Hobler Fire Insurance (a/k/a Advertising/Marketing Dept.) Brad Damsgaard, Kevin Angel, Kristin Lamont advertise@thenervemagazine.com Cover Design Steve E. Nix, Chris Trudeau Out-of-town Connections (a/k/a Distribution and Street Team) Calgary: Rick Overwater, Mike Taylor. Edmonton: Freecloud Records Graeme MacKinnon, Lindsey McNeill. Winnipeg: Phil and Ryan of Steel Capped Records, Victoria/Whistler: Jono Jak, Lindsay Seattle/Bellingham: Frank Yahr 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. 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. All content © Copyright The Nerve Magazine 2004

The Nerve Magazine 508 - 825 Granville St. Vancouver, B.C. V6Z 1K9 604.734.1611

www.thenervemagazine.com

ELIZABETH 19

The band finally set the record straight. structs a listening paradigm.

Emily Kendy con-

VANCOUGAR 13

Once again, these girls are causing havoc at the U.N.

EMERGENCY 10

Oi! Vancouver’s likely lads will soon rule over all of us with their music and then their death rays. Hopeless gives due warning.

disPUNKtional 11

Who’s high, who isn’t, who should be and who’s dead. Plus a closer look at Mary Kate’s mohawk.

NORTHWEST VS. OZZFEST 15

You would think that the biggest metal extravaganza on earth would kick ass but David Bertrand prefers to watch a man put his cock and balls in a bucket of cold water.

BRANT BJORK 25

The most chilled out interview ever.

Off the Record 22

The Doers, Ultimate Power Duo, Jesse Malin, Van Halen...

Live Wires 21

The Ripcordz, The Dickies, Patti Smith, Sebadoh and more...

What Were You Thinking? Worst cd of the month 25 Carl Spackler: A Passion for Winning 9 Skate Spot 26 Ainsworth 29 Film 28 Crossword/Comics 31 Books 26 5

Sir Arthur

at the Drink.

Now, open them big Temple doors and let’s let the whoring begin: Ladies Night Can Drive Vancouver’s favorite renaissance men Ladies Night will be hitting the road soon for their “Endless Bummer” Tour. That’s right suckers, by the time you have this issue in your dirty little mitts, the gang will be on their way to blow minds in exotic locales such as: Sat. Sept 4th - Bellingham @ The Factory w/ the Electric Eye and No-Fi Soul Rebellion Sun. Sept. 5th - Portland @ The Dunes w/ The Husbands Tues. Sept. 7th - San Fran @ Hemlock Tavern w/ Western Dark

Thurs. Sept. 9th - Portland @ Twilight Café and Bar w/ Bonobo Project Fri. Sept. 10th - Seattle @ The Funhouse w/ Vancougar!! Plus more surprise dates TBA. Boys will be boys!

And You Thought We Were Closed, Silly! This is to inform you that contrary to the rumours, Pub 340 is not closing and is not changing its live rock ‘n’ roll format. Yes there were some

announcements and things were said and that guy wasn’t talking to this guy – you know how it goes. But all this turned out to be horseshit! Pub 340 has 8 years left out of a 10-year lease and owner Avtar Samra has expressed no intent to change plans. Pub 340 will be hosting Girls with Guns on Sept. 24 and 25, a weekend dedicated to showcasing some of Vancouver’s finest female fronted hardcore and metal bands. Che Chapter 127, Splatter, So What Nothing and Broken will be performing on the Friday and Blind Driver, Faces of Black and Autoviolet will take the stage on the Saturday. Tickets at the door for $7 a night or for both nights at $12. Info: 604-537-1405.

issue it was in, because we sold them all on ebay). During his time chained to the store’s toilet, he was heard to remark (in an increasingly pronounced English accent) that he hadn’t “done anything wrong, just stealing” and that he was “in a band that’s known world-wide and has sold millions” (which isn’t even partly true).

You Have 2 New Messages, first message.... Sent: Sunday, August 15th 5:03am Hey Brad, man, it’s fuckin’ Andy calling, Punk rock Andy at the block here… listen man, I’m in a really tight position right now, I think I left my wallet in your car and, uh, I had a bit of money in there man, and I just fuckin’ picked up this hooker and I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to pay for it. Man, you gotta get your ass back here right now, man, like, she already gave me a blow job and her pimp is gonna kick my fuckin’ ass in, so, like give me a fucking call man at 778-882-**** and remember that fuckin’ number!…. (click)

And Another Thing! On Saturday Sept 11th 2004, Night Creature Productions presents an Anti-Patriot Day concert called “Patriotism is for Idiots” at Mike’s Tavern, 303 Columbia St. Vancouver. The bands are Che Chapter 127, Moneyshot and Red City Anthem. Tix are $6 at the door. Info: 604-537-1405. The Do_Ink Drawing Jamboree, Sunday Sept. 12th @ The Butcher Shop Floor, 195 E.26th (@ Main) Sir Arthur: Char, what is this? Char: Well Sir Arthur, it’s a time for solitary artists to come out of their shells, hang out, draw and collaborate. Then we make a Zine. It’s from 7 till 12 in the evening, on the second Sunday of every month and it’s really fuckin’ cool. Sir Arthur: OK. And who are you again? Char: I’m one of your contributors, Sir Arthur. I make ASSBALLS. I’m the head of the ASSBALLS Empire. Sir Arthur: Only because I put you there. Billy Hopeless is Well Hung Not only have images of Billy Hopeless appeared hanging from the walls of such local churches as the Brickyard and the Piccadilly Pub, but the deity known as Billy Hopeless has recently been informed that a framed photo of himself is on display and on sale at an art display in Tinsel Town Mall! When questioned on his feelings about this occurrence, Billy was heard to remark, “can’t they wait till I’m dead!” The Nerve Insider: Spotted: recently BUSTED for shoplifting at a Vancouver chain-store, a local Hardcore HasBeen who was once identified in the pages of this very rag as “a lying, cock-sucking, piece of shit” (or something similar – we couldn’t find which

art courtesy of the VPD

Why I Sold Out By Sir Arthur Looking back at my life, I think it’s fair to say I’ve been a fairly horrendous person in a lot of ways though even I’m disgusted at how low I sank this month. With my keen mind for business, I couldn’t help but notice that I owe thousands of dollars to the government, the bank, a different government and a man named Downtown Slim. Then I noticed that Brad’s an idiot and that I could sell his own newspaper out from underneath him so long as I kept it on the hush-hush or slipped him a Famous Grouse once in a while to keep his mind off the real world. And so I set about selling my precious column inches of high-grade hand woven shit-ticket newsprint to the first jack-thelad who bounded through my open door. Surprised? Appalled? Sexually uncertain? Fuck you Cupcake! I’ve been bought and sold so many times they should call me Sir Value Village. But first things first: I had a new idea for a thing called Gig of the Month. The theme? An appreciation of that one gig, viewed as a monthly phenomenon, that ONE GIG that really gets my bumper polished. A Gig of the Month, if you will. This month’s Gig of the Month? I don’t know. There’s loads of them. How about The Black Keys? Black Keys, then. Sunday, September 5th

This is what a J-walking ticket looks like. We looked into it and there were 400 murders being committed in Surrey at the time (2:30am on a Friday, Aug. 27th) this j-walking ticket was issued to Nerve King Pin Badly Damaged in front of the Nerve Centre on Granville St. Nervous and emotional onlookers cheered as arresting Officer Andy Jarrett calmly returned Brad to the safety of the curb: a much better place for his soft, pink body, in terms of both safety and marketing. And it only cost Brad $25! Thank you VPD for keeping your eyes on the prize!

Sent: Saturday, August 21st 7:58pm Hey Brad, it’s Jay Millette, thanks for the party last night! I had a great time, we fuckin’.. even though I passed out at your office, it was totally cool… I got a load of people at my place right now, it’s early, like 7 o’clock on uh, or, 8 o’clock on a Saturday you’re welcome to come over, 3*5* Main St. If you want to come by and have a few drinks, we’re going to go out tonight but I don’t know your fuckin’ home number and Roche gave me this number so maybe we’ll see ya tonight, maybe not, blah blah blah, YA! ALRIGHT, WHOO! (background WHOO’s) (click) August in Nerveland was the bad end of a right-hand sheep rape, a double douche whiskey piss-up... most here barely survived and, poor boy, it sounds like our esteemed editor prob’ly pissed his pants at least once....

Column

The Cobwebs of Carl Spackler’s Mind

ord, I really dig the fact that you unleashed on this world a Hellion Mick Spade Madman like Phillip Lynott. You really seem to screw things up with some of the morons you decide to let run amuck down here but occasionally you’re right on the nose. Bob Dylan thought Phil was a genius and so do I. So I’m told that I need to have a metal theme by those two cheap hacks sittin’ in the ivory tower on Granville Street anally abusing copy boys. The closest thing I found is a reunited Thin Lizzy gig coming to town this month. Only problem is that Thin Lizzy died with Phil Lynott. He was Thin Lizzy and nobody is going to fill those platform shoes. So why go? I dunno. I love the band so much I’ll show up just to hear the guitar-monies and the grooves played by the survivors. It might be a travesty but it’s as close to the real thing as we’re going to get in this world anyway. Maybe they’ll even kick my ass. Phil and the boyz in Thin Lizzy ripped this joint, drank it dry, did all of the drugs, shit out a lotta gold, a few turds, could whip any sum’bitch in the house and look good doin’ it. Phil climbed the heights of Mount Rock-lympus to a place few people get to and and even fewer come down from. Sadly Phil didn’t make it back but fuck did he have a good time getting there. They say his body died of neglect; of everything; he had everything! Every disease you could get! His body was wasted by some of the fastest and loosest livin’ ever seen. Mentally, though, he was hitting another creative peak, as evidenced by some of the bitchin’ tunes he was crankin’ out. Check the last Thin Lizzy album Thunder and Lightning, which flat out rocks with a punk metal vibe and a truckload of raw riffage and soul power! Northern Irish Darkie soul! They could keep up with Motorhead or any of the other N.W.O.B.H.M. and Hallelujah Motherfucker! He could still pen a ballad to rip your heart out, too. Hell, the best track on The Dirtbombs’ Ultraglide in Black is “Ode to a Black Man”, from Lynott’s Solo in Soho LP. Phil loved music. He loved life. When I play Lizzy I believe I can fly! (No, no, no. Not that R. Kelly pedophile shit! I hate bald pussy! How does that piece of shit still have a career? Does anyone disapprove of anything anymore? They’ve got the guy red-cocked in an 11 year

old’s snatch and he still has hits? He still has nuts??? Fatty Arbuckle didn’t even get laid and they walked him off a pier shorter than William Hung’s dick! How is it white bread straight uptight corporate Honkies dig that song? Doesn’t that crap stick in their throat as they hurtle up to Whistler in their giant life sucking tanks?) Now check out the song “Emerald” off of Jailbreak. Man they are cuttin’ heads on that track! Fuck! Get my sword! My leathers! My mace! Tequila stat, nurse! Tonight we ride! I fly right up to Vahalla with the power of the blazing hard rock! We are rollin’! Phil Lynott is the only rocker who has ever sung about warriors and kings and shit like that and I believe it. I just buy it. As for the rest of those D ‘n’ D schlock ‘n’ roll nerds: you just know those guys couldn’t fight or fuck even if they had the chance. (Did you know that Lizzy toured with Rush and after the show Rush would have these weird drag parties? What? You say Rush? Tom Sawyer? No!!! Hell yeah, man! Check the silky kimonos on Geddy and the boys circa 77.) Lizzy was notorious for fighting, fucking, drinking and drugging their way around the world and Phil wasn’t without some vicious tendencies: one time he gave Bob Geldof a line of Horse and told him it was Charlie! Then while Bob is pullin’ an Uma in Pulp Fiction, Phil tries to ball Bob’s old lady Paula Yates upstairs. What a fuckin’ Bastard! Members came and went, dried out, returned, left again. Eric Bell, Robbo, Scott Gorham, Gary Moore, Midge Ure. Midge Ure? He would torture Gorham the So-Cal Golden Boy Guitar God with tapes of bad limey New Wave and Electronica (kinda like a nite at Danny Fazio’s). The band is kickin’ the rock so large they are ready for the speed metal years; the glory years before metal really turned to shit. Before it became the breeding ground for an army of short dicked, overweight wrestler types with those super long goatees and the “No Shit” inability to get a little piece of Punani now and then. Real rock ‘n’ roll has sex baby oozin’ out of every pore, or dare I say romance? Yeah that’s right, tough guy! L-O-VE! Passion! Hell, I’d settle for lust (and I’ve settled for a lot cheaper than that believe you me, shortpants!) Too cool for school, baby. It’s not all dark bad thoughts; that’s a schtick. Bein’ bummed out is a wonderful thing sometimes; drinkin’ late at night while a storm rages on your window, Skip Spence or Nick Drake blasts the bad thoughts in your head… But hell, even Morrissey was the President of the New York Dolls Fan Club. Seasons change, flowers bloom, boners rise, flaps and bottles are emptied. The Great Wheel comes around and there you are! Luck she’s a lady! Amen to that brother, pass the whiskey and the wild, wild, women! We gonna roll! Good times! I’m cutting loose! That’s one thing Philo did in spades. Shit! All I gots to do is throw on my well worn copy of Live and Dangerous and I know that men truly did make Rock ‘n’ Roll. Sweet Jesus! Killer hooks! Soul power vocals! Riff-Action! Bitchin’ tom fills! Only the best drugs! The whiff of ripe pussy intermingling with the smell of good dope! And this is only in my living room! Seriously, they were a helluva band. Underrated? Not here in the bunker where Johnny the Fox roams loud and proud and tells me it’s time for cruising in the Lizzymobile. Count me in you fabulous bastard! Chop up the good stuff and let’s get to the party, cuz I’m ready to dance my ass off!

SEPTEMBER 24

OCTOBER 20

HELMET AND

WITH

REMOVAL AND

MARRIED TO MUSIC

WITH SPECIAL GUEST

TOTIMOSHI

TICKETS TICKETS ALSO ALSO AT AT ZULU ZULU AND AND SCRATCH SCRATCH

CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

SEPTEMBER 25

TICKETS ALSO AT ZULU, SCRAPE AND SCRATCH

RICHARD’S ON RICHARDS

DOORS 7PM, SHOW 8PM

THE RED ROOM (FORMERLY THE DRINK) TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE AND ZULU

START THE MACHINE IN STORES SEPT 14

OCTOBER 7

WITH SPECIAL GUESTS

TICKETS ALSO AT ZULU AND SCRATCH

HOPESFALL CLOSET MONSTER CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

ENTER TO WIN Email Email win@thenervemagazine.com win@thenervemagazine.com (put (put the the name name of of the show in the subject line) for your chance to win the show in the subject line) for your chance to win aa pair pair of of tickets tickets to to one one of of these these concerts. concerts. Winners Winners will be drawn 1 week before the concert will be drawn 1 week before the concert date. date.

Hopeless

Emergency by Billy Hopeless

could go off about this being my last column here in The Nerve in some dramatic form but that's not what I set out to do with this column. My goal was simple: it was just to give back to some of the artists who have influenced me in the past and present as I feel that most of the truly great bands either become forgotten in our ever changing world or go unnoticed and unrespected by the people and the press. I'd like to thank all those who joined me here in my hopelessness and as I leave I'm sure this space will be taken over by an advertisement for Nerve Records or something but anyways… cheers to all the bands, editors and bored readers who made this unpaid endeavour all worth while. My dues are paid but my debt to rock'n'roll is still growing and so I'll leave you with one last tip: Go see Emergency!!! This is one of the few bands in our city that I can say are truly worth supporting and deserve more recognition than most of the crap that's calling itself Canadian entertainment these days. I've never felt let down after seeing them live and find myself actually listening to the CDs they gave me instead of using them for coasters. Yet I never read about their existence in any of the other rags so I decided I'd make my last their first: Hello Emergency, goodbye Hopeless, here we go!

Hopeless: So first off, I got to say you guys have really groovy hairstyles. Who's your stylist of choice and what products do you use? I mean, your band's definitely all about the hair, ain't it? Fergus: It's self styling, really. Black and Decker. Hopeless: Well that answers both questions. Belt sanders can do so much for a band's image now. Speaking of making an impression, which of the following British royalty would you be most excited to meet in a pub: the Teletubbies, Andy Capp, Stan from On the Buses or the guy that wrote “Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of

available domestically so you wont have to pay higher import prices or anything to pick it up. Hopeless: Ah, I was waiting for one of you to say Oi! So what do you do when you're not building Daleks, drinking Guinness or saying Oi? Nick: Drinking lager and saying Oi! Fergus: Beating hippies with On the Buses dvds. Hopeless: Good healthy pastimes for sure. Ok, who are your favourite new and old bands? I only ask so that when all the other people who pretend to be journalists like myself come to interview or write about you they can

Hello Emergency, goodbye Hopeless, here we go! Crisps, Please” (I'm just a stupid rock'n'roller, not a record nerd, thus I say “the guy” instead of his name)? (It was Max Splodge - Record Nerd Ed.) Nick: Andy Capp. Definitely. We've got a lot in common. Fergus: So Nick, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight then. I'd say Stan from On the Buses. He's the ultimate sexist. That was truly great British humour. Hopeless: Wow! Never really thought of him as sexy but I agree. I used to laugh my brains out at that show which I guess explains the quality of my interviewing skills which brings to mind another piece of irrelevant TV memorabilia: is it true that you guys are planning to build Daleks? Like on Doctor Who? And if so, why? Fergus: Yes. I've got the plans from an old blueprint that was free in the paper The Radio Times back in '73. It has parental warnings telling kids if they’re going to use metal and tin snips to get their parents to supervise and as for why… well, why wouldn't you want to make a Dalek! Hopeless: I agree and salute the project. What a great family bonding idea! Hey kids, lets all build death robots. So since we now know your plans for mass extermination how about the music? Any plans to finally get an album out to the public? Fergus: Yes, it'll be out sometime this year on One Step Records from England which is a solid Oi and Streetpunk label that put out some stuff back when I was in The Strike. It will be

have some names to use in comparision and reference instead of the standards pulled from “Punk Rock for Dummies”. Nick: The Cracked and Slade for old stuff and as for new, I'd say Oxymoron are the best thing that's come out in years. Oh, and the late Exploding Hearts were really great too. Fergus: Well he's not really new but I'll listen to anything Paul Weller does and as for old stuff, the

Sex Pistols are still my all time favourite band! Hopeless: Ok, well it's well known in skinhead culture that the colour of ones braces and laces have different meanings so I was wondering, what did Robin Williams' rainbow suspenders mean and how about Ronald Mcdonald’s yellow boot laces? Nick: The rainbow suspenders mean you're totally clueless as Robin Williams truly was and yellow laces? Well that means you killed someone in prison so I guess we now know about Ronald's past.

Hopeless: Hmmm… McMurder for sure. I'm betting that's were he met that fiendish felon the Hamburglar. So do you guys have any power ballads for all the ex-cons that fill the many fine establisments that Emergency has had the pleasure of playing? Fergus: I played a country version of “Media Control” once and it was great. Maybe we should record it but then our drummer would have to sing it in his Smeagol (Gollum) voice . Hopeless: I have witnessed the Gollum imitation first hand and I'd love to hear that take on the song.You've just discovered the joys of playing all ages shows and on the radio show I co-host I've actually had quite a few requests from the young listeners for your band, so do you have any advice for the youth of today? Fergus: I'd actually like some advice from them. Nick: Watch what you listen to and go to all ages shows. When I was growing up all we had was the Nappy Dugout. Now there's all kinds of all ages shows to go to. Though it always seemed cooler to sneak in to a bar you weren't supposed to be allowed in so do that too! Hopeless: Ok well, my last interview was with that good old Scot, Danny Boy from Nazareth and since Fergus you are from Scotland as well, I was wondering if you've ever thought of covering a Snazz song? Fergus: No, I'd rather cover a song called “Gangbang” by The Sensational Alex Harvey Band. They were a great, theatrical Scottish rock'n'roll band and Alex used to dress up as a clown and sing solid like Bon S cott. Nick: Fergus is really all about theatrical rock operas. Hopeless: Yeah, all you young kids and that send in the clowns thing… well it's a great honour to be the first to interview a n d e x p l o i t Emegency s o let's just put all the nonsense we just talked about into one final statement shall we? If Guinness is a meal in a mug then Emergency is _______? Fergus: A sexually transmitted disease that you can't get rid of!! Hopeless: S o t h e r e y o u h a v e i t f o l k s . Emergency is to Billy Hopeless as Guinness is to a meal. We hope you all catch the infection and you all got served!

How to Build a Dalek

? 1. Get this book.

2. Follow these instructions.

3. Give up.

4. Find this guy.

5. Get him to make one of these.

6. Give the missus one.

7. Send Nardwuar the fuck home.

Music

Dys Punk tional

“They’re clean. Maybe a little alcohol in one and Ambien in another, that’s it.” - Courtney Love on her court-ordered urine tests (Source: New York Daily News April 14, 2004)

by E.S Day

he personal demise of modern day musicians continues to fascinate, especially for those of us who are Obsessive Compulsive, insecure attention seekers (ie. everyone). We love nothing more than a good post-dinner news bit about who was ambulanced into rehab this week. Today’s Child Stars/Tomorrow’s Junkies are revved up and ready to go. Maybe we can relate and it takes the spotlight off ourselves. Maybe we just don’t understand and are so bored we want to. Nonetheless when I see friends and co-workers mulling over the entertainment section whilst declaiming, “Oh…that Scott Weiland! He’s at it again!” I stop and think to myself – is this a fucking joke? In reality, I think we subconsciously want these artists to fall off whatever wagon they’ve passed out in the back of. Are we that shallow? Why yes we are.

PCP: Poor Confused Touch Me I’m Sick: Hi. My Name is Sid. “Whoa! Just half a Punke rs Reaching Out. And I’m an Anarchist. gram, Bob. My Dr. says to cut back.” Cuntney Love – a virtual pill-poppin’-pisJoel from Good Charlotte:The NerveMagazine orders you to get high, twinkletoes!

As if life on the road isn’t enough, our fearless rock ‘n’ roll heroes of today have to fight yet another battle: with themselves. Drugs inevitably surface. On the tour bus, backstage and back at the hotel. For some musicians in today’s alternative scene trying to stay away from the evils of addiction can be devastating. The glitz and glamour days are long gone. The novelty of drug induced flagellation and defecation like that of demi-god G.G. Allin have since (de)ceased (well at least the days of it meaning something are gone). Knock-off punk bands of today doing anti-drug ads, like the incredibly horrible Good Charlotte, make me howl for the original originals. Drug addiction is still the only means of escape from a world gone mad. From having to deal with STD’s and dodging stage waste to lawsuits, faking suicides, censorship, playing in shit-holes (the only way to really SEE a good band anyway), malicious girlfriends and “musical differences” within the group that lead to disbandment. Hell, I’d say those are enough to make anyone score a fix and shoot their problems away!

stankin’-moneymaking machine. Or used to be… All the televised court dates and idiotic talk show appearances would normally garner enough publicity to move a few units but there’s one problem: this twit is starting to embarrass herself. It’s not funny anymore. Take care of your daughter, do some 600 seaters on the east coast and call it a fucking day.

The court ordered junky turnstile that Miss World and the Peter Pan of the rehab circuit Scott W. have jumped over, is NOT going to help sales or a career profile. Maybe it’ll turn around again for Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy though, the painkiller prissy who checked in last month.

“Nobody Said It Was Easy”

-The Four Horsemen (Drummer Dimwit - Heroin overdose)

Dimwit - Local Boy Makes Good 12 Step groups like AA/NA/CA etc. have been around since the 1950’s, supporting people (including punk & metal artists) in their addiction by helping them find their “Higher Power”. Spiritual Guidance may help some, but when you have 20 alcoholics and junkies in a circle confessing their favourite sins, and one of them happens to be Brad Nowell or Layne Staley, who the fuck is going to relate to THEIR story?

Drug/Alcohol related: Todd Barnes – TSOL (Brain aneurysm from drug use) Stiv Bators – The Dead Boys/Lords of The New Church (Got fucked up and then hit by a car. Way to go.) Ian Curtis – Joy Division (Pills + Depression = Hang yourself) El Duce – The Mentors (He made his own “Faces Of Death” after getting run over by a train while shit-faced.) Martin Hannett – Producer - Buzzcocks/ Happy Mondays/U2/Stone Roses and others. (Booze. Some much in fact, that fat boy ballooned to a whopping 364 pounds! Thanks to the bottle, his custom made coffin wouldn’t even fit in his own grave. Pity. Michael Hutchence – INXS (A ferocious cocaine addict, he too hung himself.) William Tucker – Ministry (“Pills For Thrills” was his motto. While overdosing, he “turned it up a notch and – BAM!” Slit his own throat.) Wendy O. Williams - The Plasmatics (Tragically, drugs & depression brought W.O.W to shoot herself in the head. Ahhh..If she had only married Lemmy back then…) Joy Division’s Ian Curtis and Stiv Bators. Dead and deader.

Should of, Would of, Could of:

Today’s Child Stars/ Tomorrow’s Junkies/ this month’s Nerve lawsuit.

Luxury Rehabs With all this relapsing going on, you have to wonder where the hell these people are staying when it’s time to dry out. Many of the alma mater have heard the AA & NA jargon so many times now that going to rehab is in fact just a 30 day detox. With their lush surroundings, bountiful menus and serene ocean whispers, the following rehabs are so enticing that maybe our heroes are fucking up, just so they can visit again. Sign me up!

Weiland: seen here during withdrawal.

Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy with husband David Gest and friend.

They never made it to rehab, but - they did make the Heroin Hall Of Fame – So fucking high, they didn’t know they’d died. G.G. Allin – G.G. Allin & The Murder Junkies Wes Berggren – Tripping Daisy Kurt Cobain - Nirvana Darby Crash – The Germs John Dougherty – Flipper Frankie Fix – Crime Dwayne Goettel – Skinny Puppy Rob Graves – 45 Grave Shannon Hoon – Blind Melon Rob Jones – The Wonder Stuff Eddie Kurdziel – Redd Kross Johnathan Melvoin - The Dickies /Smashing Pumpkins Brad Nowell - Sublime Kristen Pfaff - Hole

The Top 5 1.Promises Everyone’s been here and at $30,000 a week – more than your dope habit, you’ll get so high off the concept, you’ll be doing the “Dave Navarro Workout” (as seen in Men’s Journal Magazine) in no time! After you graduate - it’s off to a celebratory opium den to cleanse your mind…one last time.

2.Exodus - Kurt Cobain, Dave Gahan, Anthony Keidis 3.Impact - Scott Weiland, Bad Religion/ Epitaph Records big-wig Brett Gurewitz, Martyn LeNoble (Porno for Pyros), Anthony Keidis 4.Betty Ford – Ozzy Osbourne 5.The Priory (UK) - Ron Wood, Pete Dougherty

Nigel Preston - Sex Gang Children/The Cult Dee Dee Ramone - The Ramones Stefanie Sargent – 7 Year Bitch John Saunders – Mad Season Will Shatter – Negative Trend/Flipper Hillel Slovak – The Red Hot Chili Peppers Layne Staley – Alice In Chains Bob Stinson – The Replacements Johnny Thunders – New York Dolls Sid Vicious – Sex Pistols Jeff Ward – Ministry Jeremy Ward – The Mars Volta Ricky Williams – Crime/Flipper* Andrew Wood – Mother Love Bone *With 3 appearances on this list, It seems Flipper was NOT a band to have as your opening act on tour. Speaking of touring, can you imagine a concert with all of the above bands? Holy Shit.

Starring Becca, Megan, CC and Eden Vancougar Here, take this Zuni Fetish Doll. **hic**

in My L’il Zuni Fetish Doll

with Brad Van Dam and 8-Van-Ball Photography: Laura Van Murray Layout: Annie Vannie Kriegen Writing: Adrian Van Mack

Becca, you never put out so you’re fired!

But Mr. Brad! No!

Oh what will I do? ** moan **

My doll is so cute...... what the!?!...

Who sho uld we kill next Zuni Fetish Doll?

Gee, thanks. I guess.

THE NEXT DAY

KILL!!! KILL!!! KILL!!! KILL FUCKING EVERYTHING! AARGH!!! TITS!

LET’S HEAD TO THE U.N. FOR SOME BIG GAME!

I’ m so depressed. But at least that nice drunken lady gave me a Zuni Fetish D oll.

What are YOU doi ng here? You’ve been replaced by these girls. They’re called The Finger Si sters. They’re sisters.

A T

THAT’S IT BECCA!!! SLICE HIM THE FUCK UP!!!

Fuckity!

Ladies and Gentlemen, making his first appearance at the United Nations, his eminence the Grand Roly-Poly of Fatfuckistan.

T H E U. N.

No, no... I ’m not the Grand Roly-Poly of Fatfuckistan. I’ m merely a simple shepherd and have no interest in your “affai rs of state”, friend.

The Grand Roly-Poly of Fatfuckistan is over there. ..

Stand back! I’ m a shepherd. And he’s being attacked by that girl with the Zuni Fetish Do ll !!!!!! Oh no!!!

Death Ray! Sweet! That’s a clean kill. 13

How the Flatbead Smoked the Warpigs

Music

By Dave Bertrand (with bitter inspiration from Mr. David H. Bentley)

Ozzfest 2004

@ White River Amphitheatre, Muckleshoot Indian Reservation, Auburn, Washington Tuesday, July 27th, 2004

vs. NorthWest Metal Fest 2004

Some Field Near Chilliwack Fri/Saturday, Aug 13/14th, 2004

he lucky European metal connoisseur gets his pick of festivals all summer long, but we poor New World scum only have one big traveling Mecca: that glutted old pig called the Ozzfest. And it hasn’t even made it to Vancouver since 1999. Thankfully we’ve got some local hooligans who patched together a little weekend séance of their own. Sure there were no big bands, no money, and next-to-no audience, but fuck, it had spirit by the cheap keg-load, and it felt like a fucking PARTY, not a traveling ad campaign. But at first there was hope for the big boy; this year promising to be the most metallic lineup Ozzfest’s ever seen. So after suitably preparing for the impending skull-fuckery with a Conan the Barbarian and Bruce Lee allnight-a-thon, we left at six to begin our pilgrimage… …and had already missed five (!) bands by the time we got there, barely catching the end of Lacuna Coil, better known as the band Evanescence completely cannibalized in order to make their millions. I didn’t care for the or ig in als mu ch either, b u t their singer sure is one damn f in elookin’ gal. US politics s oon came in to play, the day being strangely divided into a trio of leftleaning bands in the morning (Otep, Darkest Hour, and Lamb of God), followed by a threesome of right-wing counter-bashers in the evening (Black Label Society, Superjoint Ritual and Slayer). To begin with, Otep’s angry diatribe prompted the crowd to a full out ‘FUCK BUSH’ chant! Lord Almighty, could this be real? A hint of dissent inside the dreaded United Police State of America? I was moved. Looking like they just jumped off the last Phish tour, Darkest Hour shocked the hell out of everyone, spanking my jaded ass all over Auburn and completely stealing the whole fucking show. Slayer? Fuck off. These dope smokers rocked the house: singer diving into the crowd, rhythm guitarist flailing around like an epileptic, at one point calling for an “old school” thrash circle, with the Yankee-friendly instructions, “it’s like Nascar, you go fast and

turn left,” all the while waving a checkered flag. The day’s first real dose of chaos ensued. Poor Lamb of God tried their damndest but couldn’t top them. So the music was good. Even those maskwearing douchebags in Slipknot finally won me over. And there were moments: during the day I saw not one, but TWO crowd-surfing dudes in wheelchairs! Still, a general shittiness prevailed. It was a scorching day in Corporate Hell, and bottles of water cost $3.50 US. “Why not have a cold beer to calm your nerves?” you might ask. “Because at $6 US, I just can’t give head fast enough,” I would reply. “No man could.” The other 25000 of us thirsty working class types had to make do with nursing from some hoses of recycled piss water. My $90 ticket, meanw hile, didn’t get me to the bleachers, let alone the pit. F o r the main stage show, we w ere given a patch of grass approximately 7 and 5/8th miles from the stage. Thanks must go out to Grand Poobah Sharon Osbourne for moving the show to the Muckleshoot Indian Reservation in order to save a few Ozz-bucks and ruin my night. And since I couldn’t see w orth s hit, I barely even caught Black Label Society or PHOTO: JACKIE DIVES Superjoint Ritual, as I was too busy vainly trying to sneak past the Gestapo security. I missed Dimmu Borgir during the 45-minute wait to get my $6 McDogshit’s-style pizza. And rest assured, the money-grubbing corporate whoredom extended deep into the bowels of the audience members as well. Just one example: during the Judas Priest Comedy Hour, a pregnant chick climbed up near us vermin in the poor man’s garden to go to freakin’ SLEEP for the rest of the show. I asked if I could have her unused pit pass. “50 bucks!” she yells, and “50 bucks!” was all that fat fucking parrot would say every time I tried to reason. I let her off with a generous FUCK YOU before adding her name to the Bertrand Shitlist.

Halford works the crowd: “OK, now just the guys!”

“I just shat my pants! Weeeee!”

Well at least the newly reunited Big Gay Rob and Co. gave me something to laugh about with the most hideously dated, synchronized guitar-swinging, tight leather cucumber-cocked doozie of a show I think I’ve ever seen. For added effect, we had some yahoo straight out of Heavy Metal Parking Lot screaming stupidity all night long, “We Yanks love you England guys,” the man proclaimed, “when George Bush kills the bad Arabs, not the good ones, we will party with you England guys.” Thanks buddy. Meanwhile, the up-till-now unused Jumbotron screens burst into action. Blown-up images of the band for us losers in the rafters? Oh no. Commercials from Bush/Cheney megasupporters Clear Channel, thank you very much. An upcoming Sting/Annie Lennox gig, the new Atkins-friendly low-carb Coke, you name it. Propaganda that would embarrass Mao. Gee, thanks for the memories Clear Channel! So we’re left with Black Sabbath. That lucky fuck Ozzy should be licking Tony Iommi’s leather boot cuffs for giving him a career. But as we all know, that most loveable retard this side of Forrest Gump has a following bigger than Ronald McDonald and the wealth of 50 Oil Sheiks. So yeah, he’s a talentless little shit who is now at the point where he sips TEA between songs and yeah, the Sabs played the exact same set as their last “last time ever” reunion gig, but you know what? Geezer Butler is still the fucking man, and that’s the bottom line. But enough of this corporate charade, its off to some field in Chilliwack we go, we go… apologies must go out to Abuse, Zuckuss, Explosive Rage Disorder, Christ Puncher, Omega Crom, Descention and a slew of others, ‘cause I missed you all, thanks to general negligence at Nerveland HQ. Musically there weren’t too many surprises. This is the Cobalt Metal scene moved to a field in the Valley, so the whole experience is about having a 48-hour bush party with a swarm of bands busting chops on a flatbed truck. Sounds good to me! From the savage sight of Jesse Birch dunking his cock-n-balls into a bucket of ice water for a full five minutes (completely sober!), to the totally shitfaced metalchicks indulging in some soft-core lesbian tomfoolery during the midnight hours, to the endless problems with the beer situation (how much does this beer cost? Why won’t this beer keg open? Who shit near the beer?), it’s safe to say a good time was had by all, and the NWMF had some special moments that you just don’t find anywhere else. So… Lunchbucket started the show. They were about as dumb as a lunch bucket. Meat of Mankind and Mass Grave busted out the oldschool Doom-like grind-punk. Both were pretty sweet, MOM especially, mixing a little Today is the Day-flavored chaos into the mix. We had the usual assortment of Vancity Grind: Tendonitis is basically an instrumental Zuckuss, while TARD is along the same lines, though with everyone dressed up as, um, ‘tards? Crackwhore is Abuse with a few different members. Which means they’re as solid as the best of the genre, and still offensive enough to disgust even the most depraved souls among us. Sack Blabbath put the real guys to shame.

Cristina Scabbia: plays with Coil.

Denton, in a change of mood, whipped out his finest Corpse-growl for the whole show. Why not? He fucking kicked ass the next day too during The Joint Chiefs set, stomping around like an over-caffeinated Scott Ian. Demyse were OK Black Metal, Level were straight-up Pantera wannabes. “Wow, these guys are fuckin’ hostile,” somebody said. Gross Misconduct played a spot-on ultratechnical Chuck Schuldiner-worshipping style, but it was day two and hotter-than-Hades and the crowd was busy nursing their wounds from the night before. Savanah came up from California, bringing their groupies and hangerson with them apparently, or else where did all these sideways-hat wearing skate-punks and teenage slut-bags come from? Cradle to Grave and Angel Grinder both gave us really solid, polished metal. I dug it. Modus Operandi tried to impress us with two drummers. But than they lost one when he fell off the back of the stage! Balls! Oh well, he’s only a drummer and they’ve got another one anyway. But Jesus, there is only so much metal a man can digest in a day, so Day Glo Abortions’ classic gutter-punk was a welcome change of vibe for this boozed and bruised crowd. But the real draw of the NWMF was the community. A doped-up, drunk and disorderly community, with the T-shirts, drugs and hot dogs reasonably priced, and everyone and their mom offering me free drinks. No one made any money from this thing; not the bands, not the promoters. But I guarantee everyone left that piss and garbage-strewn field with a happy heart and an ugly stomach.

So let me leave you with a 6.66-point comparison: 1. The kind folk at NWMF gave me free beer. The horrible treacherous bastards at Ozzfest did not. 2. Big line-ups at the Port-A-Potties? No Port-A-Potties at all? No problem! Acres of beautiful bush country are anxiously await ing fertilization. 3. The bands at NWMF are paid in beer. Now that’s the Canadian Way! 4. No big mobs or bulbous heads blocking one’s view at NWMF, because there’s no one there! 5. You don’t have to the sell the kids to slav ery to afford a weekend at the NWMF! Plus we have Medicare. 6. No one at the NWMF is affiliated in any way with a REALITY TV SHOW! God have mercy!

Cover

THE BRIEFS by 8-Ball

Seattle’s o w n league of extraordinary punk rock gentlemen The Briefs have been staying up all night grinding their teeth for about 5 years now, depending on what part of town you’re from. Through all the second degree L’Oreal Blondissima burns, major label one-night stands and puncture wounds, they are still bringing their A-game of very neat (neat, neat) two minute wonders. I began to suspect that these four lads were no mere ‘garage rock’ band but indeed a new hope for the U.S.A. and the rest of the free (?) world disguised as buzz-happy day-glow super heroes. I summoned Steve E. Nix for questioning to get to the bottom of their crime fighting dual existence. Were my suspicions accurate? Maybe they were and maybe THEY WERE. Read on for all the recently de-classified information that could very possibly change the way you look at life itself. Or at least the way you look at hats. 8-Ball: Steve. What’s new? What’s good? Why did you do it? Steve: We got home about 2 weeks ago and we’re on break until the 2nd of next month and then we’re gonna be out on the coast for ten days. 8-Ball: I noticed on your website that during down time, which you’re enjoying now, I assume, you will possibly be sleeping and/or watching the Rockford Files? Steve: Yeah – I think there’s some Rockford File watching. Not in my particular home. 8-Ball: Who’s the James Garner fan? Steve: I think

Cover

...continued from previous page something you guys thought about when you were putting together the new record? Steve: Well, we’re not a band that has a political agenda and we’ll leave that up to the other bands that do a really good job at it, but we just write about whatever the hell we feel like and it’s kinda impossible to ignore the political climate here. It’s bound to seep into our lyrics, for sure. At the same time, Briefs’ songs are for the most part a little bit tongue-incheek and sarcastic so – “No More Presidents” – we’re not trying to overthrow the government. But hey, it’s an idea, isn’t it? Man, our government is so stupid and corrupt, it’s just ridiculous. Normally I vote third party on principle but I haven’t decided yet. I might have to vote Democrat just because Bush is so bad. At the same time I don’t think there’s much difference between the Democrats and Republicans here. It’s all bought and sold by the same people so maybe things have to get really, really, really bad before they change for

8Ball: I shit you not. Steve: That sounds really cool. 8-Ball: I think it was maybe on for a couple episodes then it got shit-canned cos, you know, it was about a team of dudes that had magic hats that they were using to solve crimes. So I wanted to ask you, if you had a special magic hat, what style of hat do you think it would be? Would it be a bowler? A fedora? A beret? Steve: Um. 8-Ball: Do you have a favourite hat? Steve: I’m trying to think of all the hats there are, you know. Um. There’s that Abe Lincoln Top Hat (the Stovepipe, I believe – Hat. Ed). I don’t know if that would suit me, though. How about a tennis visor? 8-Ball: I could see you in that. My next question of course: what would your skill with the visor be? Would it be a John McEnroe-likePower-to-Argue-with-Authority-Figures? Steve: Um. That’s nice. How about it would be razor sharp, so that when using my Wok I could chop vegetables like okra and broccoli and carrots and onions and…yeah! 8-Ball: So it would be a kind of Magical Stirfry Tennis Visor. This is your power. Steve: It would make me the greatest tennis player on the block. 8-Ball: Right. Steve: And also it would give me super prep cook talents. 8-Ball: Nice. So this would save you time in the kitchen as well as improving your game. Steve: Yeah, exactly. And, if need be, I guess I could cut somebody with it, you know? 8-Ball: Yeah, kinda like Oddjob. Steve:

t a he g w ttra ba 8 ood th ho ct nd ge -Ba . pe ere lo ive th p t ll: S ra c ok g at w art up W as teve te? rit s li irls you e ? e k k S e y to he : th ri e O gu a so teve ks? vib a l n y ju ere a fe The r t y h i e ot ou nv ey do s d e m : a st a w re di o g ol h y ele ge ach e w You pl bun wan sep qu is. e f c uy v o a i g a t a ed v u a o l r m y ch ts ra est Yo d do ra s a u t k p e h t t n a l n s u i e t t th o s er tu o h n o o o e o u or th ry t w zy re e h w v o n f a t es ous . S ud f g sle roo ns, siz r ha e’ er ed ft f. , do e c an fi af stu on t , e I i a n s ru . W e a om mu nar ep m yo e t n d t e l r d D r s d k e te ff ou p s o ? n h o t d a f a a 8 , bo nn e’ d eti sic ly, I an u k e a o u i w r or r o it ne nd sa -B nd G is n a n co bb e o flo mb ing ve yo me al cr s th yon no ind a o o s d y s g a e u l f . d n t , m s t s e d s u l u l s p o w a S e l co doe o y g o e w le iv t h om so n s r e te nt : T ke w ed os tair le Ch I m pr ou e m u s T an onn r bu d a ate pt i go t they igh ty p e a can , lik idu v e f t s o i pl th ou et se on e on he e: Y cs t hos ep u ha ood dro , pe f m ris. ean 8- d… a t nd r, n h her s t?” un ke sl e: al e e t ? e y d e e i R , h W w B a … of 8- to e ou e g s s d op on e th yo a o? t’s the the ou e a y A ker g a ep “H up Is n d m a B t n u u l e l s t u es St a r. l k s y an he cr d e hs al er th l: Yo 3 re’ p es nd the d s s w t yo in ey and n a M e e e s l l e . a m 8 l ri ere ma ...c i i v : u n s g lac tha it’s y g om ho ur f s ma y cK ow lve ge . Re zy e lm Pe hat ’s St -Ba e: T Is h de ’s n u sc the ig e t h in ot et ar ho om n, ou al as one ost opl e en wh s, I t in e t l a 8 h l h h St as b r fo a . I rl u o i v f a e u : zi at im to -B e: C ey at ot m nti as ve es a me g se eon is M it s ni ge e S e cr eve ee r ph n t p t ? k ’ c a o o e s s T o cK ou gh t t r t r e a n a i t a r e o l r o d i i n h e Y s i l h h m ve l: he I p gh 8- ss : n ar o gin e e nin roa ece o e w ler the ng nd en nd t, o Ba in W cro sho toco e l a … e y ’ u e : t s , he ne N ro g ch nt lec ith c y l to zi s, m ve ace t? pe ca e. am ll: g o e’r ss w py ay co l d es 8 a y a y l e i y a h t o. is k e fu ch nd s ac n -B ’r ric roa ea e, e e a O ff l e m ed o and of out rne a e a e b n q e e s T a l a s i n c s r e o u f s t l t n es o u t w p l b h t r h d ul ot h d St k l: ea rt ou ha l ov en y, n a s s vi t. it a t for so ev ilt A c th ey rou at u so unn bu e m ap yp “ m tta t a er bu o nd ef ey al s s p m ie ty tu ng s e n : u l e e pe ic O w pi ff ni . To in th l b ’r m tu . e… s. th re the g ca no up es ar al ff he ta the ey un e e yo ak ff s l w in s l a r B t l e w u n o h e l ni . y b a r h w i … . e a ! gh th y lo ief C I In usi ave es. ay lots e to s t s fa ne s co ha hea in St ct ss om f sm and at th nt rts r . I th ili lo e e bo e ra ” s… e of ng ts st ct rro St u t he ff w at a n of th e ey es d d c le ,w ’re on an et ha o t’s us e

that would be (guitarist) Daniel J. Travanti. 8-Ball: Coz I had some interesting James Garner trivia I wanted to share with you guys, but I guess that’s not quite your department. Steve: That’s not quite my department. 8-Ball: Well what have you been up to in the last few weeks? Steve: Pretty much sleeping, skateboarding a lot, more sleep, watching movies, playing with my cat. 8-Ball: That sounds like good times. I want to ask you – I seen that you guys have a Briefs Skate Deck that’s available from Factory 13 Skateboards. I got into looking at your merchandise and I was wondering: where are The Briefs Briefs??? Steve: The Briefs’ Briefs. 8-Ball: Coz it seems like an obvious merchandising angle. You guys must be sitting on a goldmine. Steve: Well it’s a common mistake but the name really just means brief as in “concise” or “short”. 8-Ball: “Quick”. Steve: Yeah. The underwear thing. You know, granted, people call a certain kind of men’s underwear Briefs. 8-Ball: And they’re also short, aren’t they? Steve: In Europe they don’t think that, though. They don’t use the term Briefs. (Note: Europe didn’t think much of Hitler either, but we all know what a whacky guy he was.) 8-Ball: What do they call them in Europe? Steve: I don’t know. I don’t care really. We’ve kind of shied away from the underwear thing, you know? It’s a little too goofy. Really, it was “Briefs” because when we played our first show we only had three songs and they were three short songs. 8-Ball: It was a brief set. I get it. OK, coz my next line of questioning would be: why haven’t I seen a Briefs’ Briefcase? Steve: Coz they’re too expensive to manufacture. You know, we’re looking into it in Korea, possibly Nicaragua… 8-Ball: If you’re sourcing out labour in foreign countries then I assume you could do it cheaper and the turnaround would be brief, because… Steve: It would be brief. We’re not into using the sweatshops but we do want a quality briefcase if we ever make one. And that’s what we haven’t found yet: somebody who’s able to manufacture a quality briefcase. To carry Punk records in. It’s gotta be kind of a hard shell Punk record Tote Bag. 8-Ball: There’s a market for that: Punks who want to carry around their records safely or businessmen who also want to carry around their “business papers” safely. Steve: You can keep all your rare and out-ofprint Spits and Diskords records in good shape in your Briefcase. 8-Ball: And you won’t look like a dummy when you show up at your board meeting on Monday, carrying… Steve: Well, you might because it’s going to be hot pink. Or maybe lime green. 8-Ball: You guys have a day-glow colour scheme on all your records. I was told that someone in the band is responsible for doing all your graphic design. What’s the scoop on that? Steve: It’s kind of a shared task. Chris and myself do a lot of the art but everybody approves it. For the most part it’s all inhouse. We just go to Kinkos and xerox a bunch of shit and colour it. We wanna make sure that it’s loud. 8-Ball: Lyrically the new Briefs record is slightly more political than stuff you’ve done in the past. Steve: Slightly 8-Ball: “No More Presidents” and “Orange Alert”, stuff like that. As Americans you guys have an important election coming up in a few months. Is this

night. We’ll take two nights off out of a month and it’s pretty much: drive, get to the show, shave in the bathroom, play your show, walk off stage soaked in sweat, go to the van and change clothes and then bust people to find someone’s floor to go sleep on. 8-Ball: OK. Who’s the “deal” man? Is there one guy i n

a s a blanket one night and it was the best sleep I got – the cleanest sleep I got the whole tour. We hooked up with those guys in Europe too, for I dunno, 3 weeks. When we tour we play pretty much every single

October 3rd. 8-Ball: What are your experiyour ences of our fair rider city in the past? look like? Steve: We love Vancouver. Steve: We’re We’ve got some great friends pretty humble, there and there’s a great punk man, we don’t ask scene. We’re looking forward to for a lot. We ask for a playing – we haven’t been to bunch of water, a bunch Vancouver for a few years though. of beer, a bunch of Red 8-Ball: Getting back to The Rockford Bull, some peanut butter and Files - it was created by Stephen J. Cannell who was responsible for A-Team, Greatest jelly and some fruit. American Hero, Jump Street – a lot of action. One 8-Ball: The basic Punk show most people don’t know about though is The Rock Food Groups. You Hat Squad, wherein a crack team of investigators use have a Vancouver date coming up. their hats to fight crime. Steve: Yeah, it’s Steve: Using their hats?

There’s some dark alleys in Vancouver. 8-Ball: There IS some nasty alleys up here. Steve: You see some of those characters from The New Town Animals lurking around. 8-Ball: Do you feel safer having some sort of edged weapon around The New Town Animals? Steve: Depends on how much I’ve had to drink, but… yeah. 8-Ball: You stabbed Chris while on tour – you probably didn’t have your magic tennis visor at the time, so what did you stab him with? Steve: A sharpened screwdriver. 8-Ball: A sharpened screwdriver and… Steve: I stabbed him in the thigh. Three times. 8-Ball: Really? And was this… Steve: Know why I did it? 8-Ball: I’d love to know why! Steve: Because he wouldn’t shut up. And he was on my bench. (Note: not quite sure about this one. Either Chris was disturbing Steve’s notoriously strict seating arrangements or it’s Briefs rhyming slang for “on my dick”. Kind of like “sweating my dil”. 8-Ball: OK, so – this is a problem for you. Steve: Oh, that’s one of many problems. 8-Ball: Is everyone in one piece at the moment? Steve: Yeah. No one’s banged up too badly. 8-Ball: Everyone’s got all their fingers and toes? Steve: Let’s see. Yeah. 8-Ball: Do you still have all your fingers and toes? Steve: I do, yeah. We’ve been around for 5 years and we tour a lot. We better be resilient by now, you know? 8-Ball: Your skin’s a bit thicker than it would have been 5 years ago. Steve: Yeah. 8-Ball: So something like a sharpened screwdriver doesn’t... Steve: It’s nothing, you know? 8-Ball: I noticed that Lance Romance wasn’t with you after a terrible bird watching accident. He’s something of a bird aficionado, I’m guessing. Is this something he enjoys on his down time? Steve: Lance is a weirdo, man. I don’t really go into that world too often. What Lance does in his spare time, I try and shy away from. 8-Ball: Sounds like it’s a dangerous world that he resides in. Steve: It is a dangerous world. 8-Ball: The perils of bird watching. Will he be back on the road with you? Steve: Lance is back on the road with The Briefs. But what’s cool – I don’t know if you realize this – when we were on tour recently we had Kicks from The New Town Animals playing with us. That’s why they wanna cut us cos they think we’re trying to steal their bass player. 8-Ball: It was something you guys were able to navigate around, very deftly. Cos like you said, you guys have been building up this resilience and this almost superhero-like

Steve: I stabbed him... 3 times. 8-Ball: Really? Steve: Know why I did it? 8-Ball: I’d love to know why! Steve: Because he wouldn’t shut up. strength, I would imagine, from putting yourself through these trials and tribulations of a touring punk band, right? Steve: Right, right. 8-Ball: Brilliant. Well, Steve, anything else you’d like to mention? Steve: Do your taxes, evade your warrants, eat healthy, don’t take PCP, spend your money wisely on Punk Records. 8-Ball: PCP – coming from the voice of experience? Steve: I don’t know about Vancouver PCP but don’t use Seattle PCP. 8-Ball: I’d advise the same. The Vancouver brand ain’t nothing to fuck with. Steve: Yeah, alright. The Briefs recently released their eye-forkingly great new album Sex Objects on BYO Records. They will be playing Vancouver for the first time in nearly two years on October 3rd, an all-ages gig at Mesa Luna. If you have ever wondered what watching The Monkees as re-imagined by the Dickies would look like or if you’ve ever had an urge to hear what a band that actually stab each other sounds like, I would suggest you look into this my friend. “Hat Squad - the College Years” premieres on WB this fall.

Metrosexual/ me-(.)tro-seksh-(e-)wel/n: 1: Twenty-first century male trendsetter. 2: Straight, urban man with heightened aesthetic sense. 3: Man who spends time and money on appearance and shopping. 4: Man willing to embrace his feminine side. There are six people at the Jolly Alderman Pub on an early-evening Sunday. Two homeless-looking men with Gandalf beards sit in one corner, and a group of beer-guts and dye jobs sit in another. And then the double doors open and from out of the rain emerge four stylish, well-groomed young men. They approach the bar, single file; Reggie Gill, vox, guitar, Davor Katinic, guitar, percussion,Dean Hargreaves, bass, keyboard, programming, and Paul, drums, who straggles in later than the rest. They eventually converge and sit down around a table, with regular and extra-large bottles of Heineken, to discuss the band’s debut EP - a bizarre twist of Joy Division and post-apocalyptic Radiohead - as well as all the fuss that’s been printed about Elizabeth besides the music.

Reggie: And I think it’s a sweatshop actually... It was in a small, hot office. Dean: We’re going to get them under investigation. They’re a fine organization. Nerve: Where do you get your ideas, lyrically? Davor: Books. I read a lot. Reggie: It’s a history of the world type thing. If we wrote a love song we’d feel like assholes on stage. We try to think about a broad range of t h i n g s . I can see how it could be construed as political but I consider it more, like, historical. Davor: It’s more aesthetic, we write more for aesthetic purposes. Nerve: Is the s o n g “War is Beautiful” meant to be sarcastic?

Nerve: What d o e s “Blick A” (the words at the top of the EP cover) mean? Davor:TheFuturDavor: That has nothing ists believed war to do with us, that’s the is beautiful in the image… piece of w o r k sense that it comd o n e b y E l Lissitzky, a pletely changed the 1920’s Russian landscape, you C o n structivist artist. It’s know. Drop a bomb called The Abstract Cabinet and the whole landand Blick A is that side but if scape changes. It’s you flip it you can barely see not being ironic it but it says Blick B there. So o r … th at’s w hat that’s actually part of the they believe. graphic. People see it and call it Nerve: Who are The the Blick A EP. But that’s just Futurists? part of the art. Davor: It’s a group of Nerve: I read you won a people from the… oh Precision Disc Award. What’s God, this is like a school that about? exam. In the 1920s, Paul: I applied for Music BC around World War on a whim. I don’t really know One, these artists who how we got into that contest but we had nothing to do with won. war so they didn’t really Davor: There was like 90 bands that know the gore… but you applied and they chose three they know, from their stand felt were the best and gave them point war was this amazCD burning and printing at ing thing th at changed Precision Disc. Basically we got the th e face of the earth and EP manufactured for free. But it took made things into art, or two months. something, I guess. Dean: It should have taken two weeks. Dean: It’s an art statement. Davor: Yeah… every two days there was We don’t believe in war or an error or a problem back and forth for anything... We’re secretly two months. Then they printed the cover funded by the Young but the printer was broken. So it came out Republicans. blurry so they had to buy a new printing Paul: And the NRA. press to reprint the album. Reggie: Charlton Heston was

come to the Pic to see actually at our last Dean: I like it. Reggie: I’ve played a us. Reggie: They show.. Nerve: Your lyrics long time ago where, didn’t know are sort of At the like, the crowd can w ho t h e h e l l we get on top of you and were. Drive-In abstract… yell at you and shit. D a v o r : T h e y Davor: Really? But if you get on top thought w e w e r e Reggie: That’s cool. Davor: I write a lot of them b e f o r e from New York. t h e y g e t a Reggie: Because I with a thesaurus. had a rat in my pockReggie: So even if chance to get on top of you, you’ve et. you’re bored by the won it. Nerve: How does music, which you Davor: Confroncriticism affect shouldn’t be, you have tational. you? something to listen to, I Reggie: A little bit. Davor: Not at all. suppose. But inviting. I Reggie: Wellll…. Nerve: Do you mind apologize. we’ll n e v e r l e t being compared to Dean: Do you feel the Georgia Straight Joy Division? cornered, on interview us again. Davor: Not at all. stage? Davor: But you Reggie: Clearly Reggie: I feel a know that guy we looove little cornered in has never seen us J o y Division fact. play live, the guy but I think N e r v e : Yo u who said we were there’s more opened for the most overrated going on. F r a n z band in Vancouver Obviously we’re Ferdinand Reggie Butthat’st he not going to say when they thing. The Georgia we’re not i n f l u were in town. Straight are all enced by Joy Do you find old, washed up Division because opening for hippies so those we are, but there big shows are the exact guys are a lot of other like that that we are here to

cuts at a Brickyard show but no one came up to us. Reggie: The ChartAttack website misconstrued it and wrote that we were a band of hairdressers. Nerve:The assumptions must get annoying… Reggie: Oh my God. Everything is an assumption with us. It got to the point… Davor: The Geor gia Straight, what did they say? “When people are talking about your hair maybe it’s time for some new songs.” Reggie: That cunt wrote the first thing about us on our haircuts. So they’re criticizing us for shit they write? Honestly there’s way crazier hair out there, like the No No Spots. Davor: And Dirty Blonde. They got crazy hair too. Just coz they’re electro eighties they’re required to have crazy hair. Nerve: And what’s the “satorially superior sweepstakes”? Dean: Best dressed. Davor: Apparently we were the best dressed band that night… (Railway Club, December 2, 2003).

helps your band? things be Davor:Defin in there. against. So it’s peritely. Last Davor: We’re not limfectthattheywouldsay year we ited to late 70s postsomething like played a lot punk. that. I wouldn’t doing our own Nerve: I’ve heard take their adshows and I you can get pretty vice on a type of think w e hit freaky on stage, I’m soda to drink. The that p o i n t wondering what goes only reason people las t s ummer through your mind? read it is to find out where we Paul: What does go what shows are played to through your mind? playing. thos e people Reggie: I don’t Paul: Isn’t the next w ho always go know. A lot of people issue the readers to The Pic and have said that and choice? Mesa Luna w hen w e did our Reggie: You’ll have to and w e s atufirst few shows I write in a few times. rated that never really noticed it Nerve: So do you audience. before and then I saw guys cut each other’s T h e y ’ d s a y, a video tape, and I’m hair? “We’ve already like, “Wow. That’s Reggie: Ooooh thankseen them,” weird.” god, my girlfriend a n d what’s the Davor: Remember would kill me if this draw at t h a t when you fell off didn’t get in. She reads point? So we’ve stage because you all this press about our consciously made were waving your g u i hair. Dean works at a hair the decsiontonotplay t a r a n d y o u threw salon so he gets his hair our own headlinyour whole bodyoff. cut there. But my girling gigs anyReggie:Idon’t know. more. Hooking up friend cuts all of our hair. I think if you’re going with the bigger Her name is Andy and she to do it, go for it, you b a n d s , s o t h a t works at Head Space. know? It just happens. they would be the Dean: I work at BarbDean: Violent. draw. Like the arella. You can come in and Reggie: It can get… it can Franz gig where ask for an “Elizabeth.” get… I yell a lot, w hich the people there Reggie: The Elizabethan. I don’t normally do. would have never Davor: We did offer hair

Reggie: That’s when they said you listen to Joy Division all the time. Davor: Dean doesn’t even own a Joy Divison record, but he “grew up listening to them.” Reggie: That’s just how he plays bass… are you doing a test? Nerve: Just wanted to make sure the recorder is working. You guys are coherent… that helps. Dean: That’s a surprise. Davor: It’s early in the day. Reggie: Hey I have a funny story. You know what happened when I was walking down the street today? Matt Good and two of his friends were walking by and he said, “hey.” Davor: Matt Good said hi to you today? Reggie: Yeah. So I didn’t say anything, just walked right by him. What? I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him in my life. I guess I totally dissed him.

Elizabeth by emily kendy 19

Music

Bjork, Bros and Badass Boogies By David Bertrand

he world today needs to mellow the fuck out, and who better to lead than that ultra-chill alumni of Desert Rock, Mr. Brant Bjork. This former skin-basher for stoner archetypes Kyuss and Fu Manchu has long since graduated to full-time writer, producer, groove purveyor, and all-around instrumentalist for his own badass boogies. Oh yeah, and let’s all be clear. We are NOT talking about that kooky Icelandic yodeler, though I wonder if Brant has a Reykjavik connection of his own? My exposure to BB’s output dates back to my heady days as a virgin Vancouverite, when I worked for the once-mighty A&B Sound under the wing of one Mr. Butters. This guru of all things cool and unusual dragged me through an extensive and sorely needed crash course in the muscle car and spaceship world of stoned out fuzz-rock, of which the finest of the fine was undoubtedly Jalamanta, Brant Bjork’s super-smooth solo debut. My boss played that album RELIGIOUSLY. Never more then a day went by without it, and we’d watch as the customers would start to head-nod and groove without even knowing it. Remember that scene in High Fidelity where John Cusack tries to sell five copies of the Beta Band? Well that’s what I’m talking about. I think for that album we outsold every other A&B by about 7000%. Remember that people: all it takes is a little love and a lot of exposure. So here’s a bit of shit-shooting, starting with a brief discography of the solo albums in the words of Senor Bjork himself: BB: Shoot… after Jalamanta I did a side project called Ch’e, a little bit more rockin’. And then I did the Brant Bjork and the Operators record. That’s kind of my slicked-out stoner pop record. I did Keep Your Cool after that; Keep Your Cool is kind of a bluesy grease-ball of a record. It’s cool. I dig it. I just released

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Local Angel last month, which is my latest one and it’s probably my most laid-back and intimate record. Nerve: You’ve got a traveling band now called the Bros, did they play on the album with you or is it still just you doing everything? BB: No it was still just me, but we actually just cut our first record with the Bros about three days ago, so that’ll be out early 2005. Nerve: And till then… BB: Well, we’re on the road right now doing a national tour. We’re gonna be hitting three shows in Canada… Montreal, Toronto, and Vancouver. Nerve: See, those are the only places anybody ever goes. We’re lucky that you even hit Vancouver. The poor bastards in the middle of the country never get anything. BB: (laughs) Nerve: Except for traveling CANADIAN bands (this is stressed very contemptuously. I’m not sure why. I love my country and we have plenty of great bands. Did I mention that it was really fucking early when we spoke?). Like maybe they get to see Bryan Adams in Winnipeg. There’s not much of a market, so I understand… You’ve got a label going, Duna Records. Do you have any bands on there other than yourselves? BB: Right now I’m just concentrating on my own music, just kinda getting the label solid and moving forward, and once I feel comfortable bringing other artists into the fold I will. I’ll know when it’s time, and it’s not quite time yet. Nerve: It was pretty sad when Man’s Ruin died. (For those who don’t know, Man’s Ruin Records was the nucleus of the stoner rock scene in the 90’s, the one label where any bunch of grease heads with long hair, a fuzz box, and a picture of a ’76 El Camino in the desert could get themselves a deal. Eventually it collapsed; WAY too many bands, and not enough cash flow to properly support any of them. Its dissolution is what prompted Brant to start up a label of his own.) BB: Yeah, that was a real, real bummer man, and I think some bands never recovered unfortunately. Nerve: You live out in Joshua Tree area. Have you ever seen Gram Parson’s ghost? BB: (laughs) No, but I think he has some kind of a hotel or something out there. I don’t know… he’s got something going on. I haven’t bumped into his ghost yet. So come one, come all: Sept. 6th at the Brickyard for Brant Bjork & the Bros. And what’s more, it seems the incomparable Mr. Butters is at it again! Brant Bjork will be making an in-store appearance at the Seymour St. A&B Sound at 5 p.m. on the day of the show. Don’t be shy kids. Let the coolness infuse you too.

Live Wires The Ripcordz, The Homewrekers, The Rampant, The Sweathogs

ith the end of its legacy of booz-tality pouring near, the sauna formerly known as The Cobalt was drawing more than its usual crusty crowd as everybody fought for one last chance to stand guard in its snaking bar line and soak in the stench of an unkinder, ungentler, funner time before the city creates its tourist friendly McOlympic McVillage. Notably yet least importantly, Global TV decided to send a representative to cover the funeral and even the Police Dept. sent a couple of its finest down to give wendythirteen a farewell card in the form of a few more charges. Wendy appreciated this gesture so much that she taped the rap sheet to her shirt and displayed their sentiments with pride, like a kid who got first place on sports day. As for the bands, well… The Sweathogs are a pot loving punk band from Victoria which is also the home of The Rampant: they

caught my ears with some Geordie-accented vocal stylings. As for my sisters, The Homewrekers, well… they had the pit slamming and let’s just say more than one mohawk warrior told me that it was so refreshing to have such charming young ladies put the hard back into hardcore as they played songs off their new release that went straight for the groin. Finally closing off the ceremonies were The Ripcordz and what can I say except they’ve been around long enough that if you don’t get it, you must be either unCanadian or you just don’t like Punk Rock. Just hearing these French-Canadian frenzies whip out hits like “Your Mother Wears Army Boots” in this ill-fated room makes me realize how important and endangered my Canadian Punk Rock heritage is and I salute all those who have or continue to serve in the fight to keep its home fires burning! - Hopeless

Side67, Even Your Odd, The Rebel Spell @Black Swan, Calgary, AB Friday, August 20, 2004

aving a song dedicated to you would probably persuade you to write a good review. Or perhaps write a bad one because you’re afraid if you said you had a song dedicated to you then wrote a good review people would think you’re a biased prick who can be bought. Well fuck you all. I am. I’m not sure why Longshot’s newest threechord punk band the Rebel Spell opened the show at the Black Swan on this illustrious, harvest moon Calgary night. The anthemic, fuckBush political street punk is becoming more and more relevant as November draws near.

The band was tighter than Mary-Kate as they flew through soon-to-be classics such as “Green Solider”. It was at this point the bouncer decided that moshing was not suitable for a punk rock show, and he split up the growing pit. It was probably a good thing though, considering my two pints of beer were in those weird beehive-shaped mugs, and I was losing more than I could drink. I’m sure there’s a “spilly mosher” joke in there somewhere, but I’m too damn lazy to find it. The Rebel Spell’s set lasted as long as your boyfriend’s first time, but unlike that pimply, scrawny, nerd, the Rebel Spell will be asked out for a second date.

Even Your Odd, Calgary’s “post-hardcore” band (whatever the fuck that means) scared the shit out of me. I think the singer thought he was Iggy Pop and Billy Hopeless’s bastard son. Despite the weird stage presence they managed to keep me in the bar long enough to start dry heaving after more beehive-mug beer. Side67 is where it’s at, yo. It’s hard to find original skate punk, but like the sketchy dealer who won’t tell you his real name, the band delivered. And it wasn’t a second rate product either. Calling Side67 veterans would be false, but they play like they’ve been around the block. Half the band hails

Supersuckers, Red Iron Haulers @ Lucky Bar, Victoria, B.C. Friday, August 6, 2004

t was time once again to dust off the ten-gallon hat and spit shine the cowboy boots because the Greatest Rock ‘n’ Roll Band in the World, The Supersuckers, were back in town. Yeee-haw, motherfuckers!!! As Lucky Bar nears its fourth year of being the most diverse venue in town, they treated us right kindly by arranging for The Supersuckers to play a full country set and a full rock set. A 3hour Supersuckers show! Holy shit! Rod Iron Haulers were up to the challenge of kicking this raucous evening into motion. Victoria’s bad boys have been getting tighter and tighter over the years but the women around them certainly haven’t. These vintage hotrod greasers remind me of a heavier New Bomb Turks and can certainly hold their own in any rock ‘n’ roll showdown. Eddie Spaghetti has a new solo album out called The Sauce so I wasn’t surprised to see him start “the Big Show” just a lone pilgrim on stage. General Lee guitar strap and sunglasses at the ready, he started the marathon set with the Johnny Cash classic “Cocaine Blues” and for the next 3 hours he didn’t even stop to breathe. As the gray starts to creep into his beard, Mr. Spaghetti looks a little road worn and weary but believe you me, this cowpoke can still out-rock most men half his age. When asked what type of shots they wanted, the response was four whiskeys and a penicillin for guitarist Dan “Thunder” Bolten. They ended the extended set with their patented anti-encore, where they only pretend to leave the stage then continued the onslaught for another 3 or 4 songs including “Born With A Tail”. All in all it was a fucking unbelievable show! I loved every minute of it and so did the rest of the crowd as we sung along to all the words with shit-eating grins on our faces. - Ira “Hoss” Hunter

Photo: Jen

@ The Cobalt, Vancouver, BC Friday, August 13, 2004

The Dickies, Paper Lanterns, Billy & The Lost Boys, Jak Uzi @ The Brickyard, Vancouver, BC Sunday, August 15, 2004

went down late hopin’ to stroll right in and catch America’s Buzzcocks blastin’ thru “Out of Sight, Out of Mind” but my bio-rhythms were way off and I could barely time the piss comin’ out of my flaccid member with hitting the urinal and not my jeans. And neither could the first three (!!!) opening bands who seemed bent on takin’ down any good feeling I had towards what some people want to call punk rock these days. Jak Uzi! It just works on so many levels, don’t it? Ugh! Next were Billy and the Lost Boys who seemed lost alright: lost in time, like around 1987, playin’ a sort of technical pop punk ala Big Drill Car that came off sounding like an emo-Gob. The fuckin’ ground could have swallowed me up and I would have told it to suck harder. Then came another tenth generation punk band named Paper Tigers or from Edmonton, and like their resident forefathers SNFU, the band will be around long enough to support the inevitable heroin addiction. -The Intern From Hell

Patti Smith

@ The Commodore, Vancouver, BC Monday, August 16, 2004

he bohemian crowd began to gather slowly at first and I was thinking to myself ‘bout how this was a cult thing and how only a few truly understood the need to worship this Goddess. By the time Patti was addressing the crowd in chaplinesque style with a little bit of trampin’, The Commodore was packed with fans of all ages and from all rocks of life. I don’t know how to describe the experience of seeing Patti Smith and her band other than to say it was truly a magical evening. Patti paid tribute to the anniversary of Elvis’ death, Ghandi, Jim Morrison, Jerry Garcia, assorted religions, Julia Childs and the birthday of Stooge Rock Asheton with words, songs and projected visuals and I began to feel like more than paying tribute to her. We were all gathered to join her in celebrating the spirit of revolution and the arts. Though she ignored the barrage of shouted requests from the crowd, Patti took every opportunity to engage and embrace the audience in conversation. When one audience member requested that the band pause from their extensive repertoire for a bathroom break, Patti told her to shut up and piss where she stood, as she herself had done at many of her own shows. She truly danced barefoot with and not before all who attended and left me thinking to myself, man, being raised by Patti Smith would be the coolest but then again, maybe in a way we all were. Thanks mom for once again making us all feel truly special. - Hopeless

something and they drove me the rest of the way to the edge. I lost faith. How can so many bands get it wrong? Was there to be no salvation on this Sabbath? Then entered The Dickies. They wasted no time in achieving a miracle. Snatching victory from the jaws of repeat, as it were. Loud, fast and with more hooks than an armada of Pirates. Leonard wore his “I love Satan” t-shirt plus his striped tights and had more witty stage banter than Uncle Milty on a meth bender. Stan, resplendent in a Great Gazoo tee, peeled off smokin’ leads and riffs the way he always has for the last 27 years. Hit after hit was played, penis puppets sang, scuba masks were worn, blow up dolls were inflated, calisthenics were performed, Jeffie Genetic creamed his jeans, punk pop nirvana was achieved! - Spackler

Sebadoh, Imaad Wasif @ Richard’s on Richards, Vancouver, B.C. Friday, August 13, 2004

he last time I saw Barlow and Lowenstein together was in 1996 at The London Astoria, along with 1500 other like-minded indie nerds. That was probably at the height of Sebadoh’s popularity and their single “Beauty of the Ride” was actually getting heavy rotation on BBC radio. Those were the days, weren’t they? Well, tonight’s show was a little more subdued and some pre-programmed beats and rhythms replaced their inconsistent third member. Mind you, the years have been good to Sebadoh. Seemingly less bitter and serious (Barlow even joked about finally resigning himself to the “indie-rock” label), the two founding members played favourites spanning from their 15-year long career with heavy emphasis on Bakesale, their most well-rounded album. With a soloalbum by Barlow in the works, and Jason Lowenstein’s acclaimed solo career, it’s unsure whether or not Sebadoh will record again, but there seems to be enough zip in them to crank out another classic. Imaad Wasif, frontman of San Francisco-based Alaska! opened the show with some milk-and-water folk tunes and some dopey stoner-guy banter which left the crowd a bit impatient and drained. Despite a couple of gems and a touching version of Leonard Cohen’s “The Butcher”, Wasif didn’t exactly set the stage for what was to follow. It should be added that my personal highlight of the evening was watching a stumbling vixen-banger standing front and center who wouldn’t give up her apparent right to smoke in the bar. After having at least three cigarettes extinguished by security, the little trooper kept lighting up and throwing her arms in the air and wavin’ them like she just didn’t care. Cigarettes aren’t cheap, but neither are our rights to stick it to health-conscious establishments. -Adam Simpkins

Off The Record Dead Poetic New Medicines Solid State Records

Photo: Laura Murray

The Doe rs

The Doers vs. Plow – Round 2 Well, awhile back I went on tour with this band called The Doers. At the time we were just a bunch of guys piled into a van with the same mission. After the 11-day trek through mountains and heavy snowfall, I came to realize why I should always tour alone (just kidding). The Doers are peeps of the now defunct Station A. Their sound has changed and so has their attitude. What once was electric is now acoustic and what once was a gig every once in a while has become a full on whoring expedition. Three guys with the same goal: make music and spread it on people like Uncle Pa’s Special Jam in the Jar. Who are you? Shammy: I am Shammy. I play guitar and I sing sometimes. Barry: Barry plays the bass. Jerf: I’m Jerf and I play the drums. How was it, working with Mike Watt of Minutemen fame? Barry: It was a learning experience. I’d do it again (as he slurps watermelon). Sham: Working with Mike Watt was effortless other than my own nervousness. Barry: He improvised so well. You can quote me on that. You have any health tips? Sham: I bought new swimming trunks today! Amps II Eleven s/t Smog Veil I’m not known for being a staunch supporter of women’s rights. Or even human rights, for that matter, but when the inbred on this cd sings “you little fuckin’ whore!!” with such hate and weirdness, it makes you feel like you’re at the bar watching some jarhead in a “Kill ‘em all” T-shirt slip a roofie in your sister’s peach cooler. - Spackler APEX ???? Accurate Audio Well, judging from the insert layout, the album is entitled Comfortability is One of the Worst S i c k n e s s e s Humanity is Facing in the 21st Century. Either that or it’s a selftitled debut. Either way, the confusion commenced from the get-go. Um… comfortability is NOT a word and so sets the tone for a toneless MC out of The Great White North named APEX. Down with the Canadian Armed Forces, this white boy has a rather severe take on things… let’s call it “Disciplinary Rap”. Unfortunately the production is lost amongst a

And when I’m working out I listen to the new Black Rice album. I’ve started drinking milk again, too. Coz when you work out you need to drink milk. And I’m into Aquafit. So what’s next for The Doers? Jerf: We’re going on tour to St. Johns and back. Sham: Without Mr. Plow. Shammy, have people ever compared you to Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins? Sham: You have, but we’ve been compared to Rush before and that got me really worked up. Our Music Editor wants to know why it hurts when he pees. Sham: He could have a few things. He could have the clap. Barry: Maybe it’s a yeast infection. Sham: Did he catch the clap from the rest of his band? What do you want to shamelessly plug? Sham: Barry might be getting new teeth. Barry: It’ll happen someday but other people seem to care whether I have teeth more than I do. Sham: I like you better without teeth. And it’s all about the Aquafit. pile of old DJ MUGGS throwaway beats that somehow ended up on this dude’s record. A couple of eerie string samples got me a little hyped, but the lyrics (“I’m just here keeping it real”) had my finger glued to the FF button. The artwork led me to think it was an industrial album. Lets hope this kid’s “comfortable” with changing his production team (himself) and going back for some extra Basic Mic Training. Shit boy! Didn’t they teach you anything in the army? - ES Day Carnal Forge Aren’t You Dead Yet? Century Media Good ol’ reliable Swedes. By now there must be about 22,536 melodic death metal acts over in that part of the world, but still goddammit they are all just so freakin’ GOOD. If you’ve ever heard At the Gates, The Haunted, Darkane, The Crown, etc., Carnal Forge probably won’t make you lose control of your poopshoot. But in matters of metal, much like in the movements of one’s bowels, regularity can be a good thing. The story goes that some or all of this band once worked down at the local Looney Bin. Could be that my crank’s being yanked, but it’s a fine metal myth anyway; a good brewing ground for the savage lyrical fodder. As sick as a cancer-ridden mule and tighter than testes on ice, this is gut-munching good fun for everyone, but only those few who were too busy puking overboard during the last ten years aboard the metal boat are going to have their putrid little minds blown by this. - Dave Bertrand

Like so many others in the ever-diluted world of Mainstream Rock 2004, Dead Poetic split their vocal attack, putting one young upstart in charge of the majority of the angst-drenched whining, and another as captain-in-chief of the odd uninspired CookieMonster growl or two, trying really hard to fool the public from (rightfully) labeling them as a bunch of silly pop pushovers. With production as slick as a Vaselined Slip-N-Slide on a Tuesday afternoon, Dead Poetic are aiming for the Linkin Park, Puddle of Mudd, Incubus, whatever-the-hell-else market. They’ll probably succeed too, what with their modish hip and cutesy indie haircuts and their paint-by-numbers melodies. The bastard truth is that these guys do have some talent, and they are better than the majority of the shitty overplayed Foxfriendly bands that they’re competing against. It’s just that I don’t need this, and neither do you. - David Bertrand The Doers Ready, Set, Do Red Cat Records The procrastinating is over. The Doers finally do something besides drinking another band’s rider. A 17 track disc full of punk folk math equations for the whole fam damily to sing along too. I see this album being the soundtrack for the Anthony Robbins motivational seminars of the near future. Plus it doesn’t hurt having the infamous Mike Watt doing a guest spot on the bass while main man Barry sits in a South American spa getting his nails done. This CD is the best ointment for any college kid’s rash. Standouts include the title track “Ready, Set, Do”, “Uncle Sam and His Pals” and “Telepathic Hearts”. Check them out before they come to your house, coz they might just stay. What’s that about Sean? - Plow D. Rangers We Stay High and Lonesome A Major Label This is bluesgrass, honkytonkin, whiskey drinkin, weed smoking, Canadi-fuckin-ANA country at its BEST. Armed with the actual grandson of the inventor of the Muckbucket (a bass constructed from an empty whiskey barrel), “Uncle” John T. Plumeray, and some of the best pickers ‘n’ fiddlers the prairie backwaters could breed, the D. Rangers may not be pretty, but they play some pretty mean, soul grating hillbilly music. If the saw solo on the instrumental “Cherokee Surf” doesn’t make you weep like a pathetic little girl (which just happens to be my new hobby), than you have no goddamned soul. They have a freakin SAW solo for Christ sakes. Also features a wicked cover of sixties tune “Runaway”. Expect a kick square in the balls if you don’t get yourself a copy of this disc. TexAss Even the Odd Popular Among Van Owners Wrong Records Maybe it was their shout-out to my hometown (what’s up, Windsor!), their disdain for white belts and NME, or that they claimed to be making an album that “returned to rock’s basics,” but part of me thought I might actually like these kids. Or not. While the first track managed to get my attention, it was quickly lost. All the songs sounded the freakin’ same, and it reeked of everything else MuchMusic is torturing us with right now (think Yellowcard, Finger Eleven, and Hoobastank). Yeesh. Anyway, it’s too bad cuz they’re all earnest, talented musicians who could be making music as groundbreaking as their liner notes led me to believe. Right now, all they’re doing is sounding too much like everyone else for me to care. But what do I know? Six months from now they’ll probably have a video in steady rotation,

a slot on the Warped Tour and legions of 16year-old girls fainting at the mere mention of their name. - Meghan Dean General Rudie Take Your Place Stomp Records General Rudie is the happiest ska band around and they’re on a mission to make you happy too. Just listening to this album makes me want to invite my neighbors over for a back yard barbeque party but since I have no back yard and dumpster roasts are frowned upon, I guess I’ll just go down to Wreck Beach, cook my wiener and share the joy of this cd. with all the skin cancer victims. - Hopeless High Five Drive Service Engine Soon Spawner Records These Winnipeg wippasnappaz have developed a reputation for playing tight live shows and for masochistically touring Western Canada in a shitpiece van. Speed is their muse with a style of punk that is so fast and galloping that it starts morphing into this Maiden-like soaring affair as they frequently skid a couple of tires across the loose metal shoulder. They’re a fourpiece complete with machine-gun drums, solid bass, and a high pitched, melodic, twin axe attack. Lyrics are personal, inward-looking, emoic in nature, all while the two aforementioned axemen trade up vocal duties. Not likely to become the catalyst for the complete rebirth of the human spirit into higher states of awareness to our place in the Universal Order, but surely strong enough to parlay into some radio play, farther tours, and fuller halls. And a pine tree for the van! - J. Pee Patchez Kittie Until The End Artemis Records When Kittie first came on the scene you would swear you could see the puppet strings glinting in the stage lights above them, so Nerve readers could be forgiven for thinking this record review belongs in the pages of Sassy. It seems a few years of touring have sharpened up their musical claws a bit, and these once demure teenagers have become grown-up, pissed off women. They get a lot of credit for recording this album live off the floor in only three weeks instead of sanitizing it in the studio for months. Production is by the dude who did Anthrax and Korn which is probably why it kind of sounds a little like those bands mingled with some Wolverine Blues era Entombed. The singer may remind you of the possessed girl in The Exorcist with the Go-Go’s singing harmonies. You gotta shit on a band that pusses out, so you also have to give credit to a band that goes harder-core like Kittie have done. - J.Pee Patchez Little Wings Magic Wand K Records In the typically annoying K Records fashion, this cd was sent to us in a non-descript jewel case with a plain black and white track listing attached to the back. Oh yes, I get their DIY sensibility, but this isn’t exactly The White Album, and Kyle Fields’ minimalist campfire ditties don’t exactly sell themselves. Magic Wand is charming background music, but not unlike anything else that’s been released by the Olympia label in the last five years. I know, it’s supposed to sound lazy and thrown together, but with the surplus of unassuming indie-rock floating around these days, I’m demanding a few bells and whistles, thank you. It’s less arty than The Microphones, and more mature than Wolf Colonel, but these Little Wings need a bigger gust of air. -Adam Simpkins

Off The Record Nevertheless The Medium is the Message Method:Records

Taking Back Sunday Where You Want to Be Victory Records

Quite simply the most interesting little collective I’ve heard this year aside from Even The Odd. I swear to God this 3-piece outfit from Edmonton have performed the most innovative twist on the modern instrumental album. Not one whimper of a voice will you find lurking in the background. Influences must range from old Rush, Maiden (Killers era) Voivod, Marillion and, I don’t know, Foo Fighters? It just rocks. This is what one would expect had Mahavishnu decided to be a little angrier. Temperamental chord structures and complex rhythmic arrangements will have you gasping for more. Will never be chart-worthy but well worth it for music lovers of a progressive punk nature. Hunt this mother down. - E.S. Day

As fun as it is to bitch and moan about emotionally driven rock music, it has almost become far too easy to poke fun at the bitching and moaning pussies that write the songs. So, I won’t. In fact, this album is far better than I thought it would be, due in part to the lack of outright complaining about girls that done wrong and pains that just won’t go away (I’m looking at you, Yellowcard). Their lead-off single, “A Decade Under The Influence” is actually quite good, and even though you have to sit through a couple of cringers, the album is solid from start to finish. If Jimmy Eat World and Hey Mercedes are part of your soundtrack, you might as well add these kids to your roster. -Adam Simpkins

Roxy Saint The Underground Personality Tapes Star Blue TV What’s good to say about Roxy Saint, other than I’ve never seen anything quite like her DVD? Comprised of various song videos and boring interviews filmed in her bathroom and on the Sunset Strip, this thing just screams low budget. In an attempt to shock, Roxy does her best impersonation, musically and visually, of Marilyn Manson with little to no effect. I mean, if you’re gonna go the shock rock route, don’t just bore viewers with an hour’s worth of tease! Get down to the nasty business. Show us some skin, some lesbian action, a prosthetic cock, anything other than this lame attempt to be sexy and mysterious. Or better yet, write a fucking decent song that doesn’t sound like Iggy Pop with a drum machine. Oh, sorry, cue shitty cover of “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” - Jason Schreurs Scavenger Madness To Our Method Sentinel Ireland isn’t the first place that jumps to mind when one thinks of places where Power Metal is practiced heavily, but Scavenger don’t give a foock! They’re gonna rock their shit like it’s ‘87! This Metal puts its boot up on the monitor, calls for more wind and busts a twelve-minute instrumental. Shades of Manowar, Priest, and all that suit-of-armour-on-therecord-sleeve type stuff. It’s not like they’re imitating old shit, they do a lot of tempo changes and original little catchy bits, all while keeping the spirit of olde-thyme metal. The production is awesome. They resisted the temptation to overblow things and instead sound like a real band playing real instruments. The drums seem to be played by a squad of riot police. The singer is all tough sounding, but he also likes to wail and soar, and the axes do not so much duel as dance. 3.5 out of 4 cloverleaves. - J. Pee Patchez Scent Of Flesh Valor in Hatred Firebox Originally recorded in 2003, Finland’s Death Metal Darlings Scent Of Flesh have finally released their 2nd full length and their first for Firebox Records. Lovely photos of the band members each with his own captivating bullethole in the forehead - “Great idea guys!” You know, Death Metal should die. Bands like SOF seem to just exploit the genre for quick sales from angry European male tweens and pissed off slum-youth from Brazil. Leaving us with an album of cliché drum patterns and malicious lyrics with no purpose or story. Maybe I’m old school. The riffs seem to be borrowed from old Exodus and Possessed records, played even faster and swept under a blanket of bad mastering. Well I’ll agree – the Scent Of Flesh is foul. - ES Day

U l t i m a t e P ow e r D U O

Ultimate Power Duo We’re in Control Now / Cone of Silence Independent These guys have been bugging The Nerve to review their indie home-jobs for what seems like months now. More fool us: these two EPs by the Saskatoonbased Stereolith that is Ultimate Power Duo are both contemporary masterpieces that fall somewhere between Ulysses and The Fall’s Live at the Witch Trials LP in terms of their cultural impact. They have a hit and run studio technique and they tend to keep a stable of Ultimate Power Drummers on hand for recording and gigging at the drop of a hi-hat. There are no less than six of them spread across these two EPs - not that it matters since the requirements are straightforward: it’s all up and down punky goodtime stuff and the endings all come by way of the middle. You can’t really go wrong unless your brain is stupid. The next one is coming out in October (UPD budget for 5 of these EPs per year.) If the whole enterprise is giving you an uncomfortable They Might Be Giants feel – don’t worry. The UPD are spiky, young and charming where TMBG have those huge foreheads. The music, which seems to really mature all of a sudden on Cone’s “Heil Taxi, Mein Cab”, will please those of you who need The Strokes to be more identifiably human and less like a perfectly executed media stunt by the editors of The Face. Even more heartwarming, for me, is the almost certainly accidental evocation of the alltime champs of basement art, Britain’s Swell Maps. - Mack The Great Redneck Hope Behold the Fuck Thunder Thinker Thought Records Song names include “Whoa, Frankenstein! I Didn’t Program You to Make Out with Boys!”, “Let’s Fall in Love Over AIM So We Can Fuck When We Meet at Cornerstone”, “It Sure Does Get Lonely Out Here in the Boondocks. Thank God for Cock.”, “Did You Ever Notice that ‘Stat’ is ‘Tats’ Backward? Dude, That’s so Tribal”, and “Killing the Wheelchair-bound as they Exit Church with Missiles Fired from Helicopters is my Milieu.” Crazy, sarcastic Locust-style spazz-core grind that’s just a little too fucking smarmy for its own good. Whoops, there’s my word count! - Jason Schreurs Jesse Malin The Heat Artemis Records Whenever I’m in a crunch as a songwriter I turn to the masters for inspiration and luckily this copy of ex-D Gen and all around New Yorker Jesse Malin’s new album flew my way right on time. Remember when artists like The Replacements or (locally) Art Bergmann went

Are you worried that another duo might emerge with four members, giving them an advantage over your three-piece duo concept? No, they’d be too squared. Besides, we’d still kick their ass, even if they were a twelve-piece duo ska band or the New York Phil Harmonic (sic) Duo. Ultimate Power Duo will not be stopped. The power of two, and the noise of three... it can’t be better! What’s with the statue of Gandhi in the middle of Saskatoon? Gandhi? I thought that was Diefenbaker. How do you fit so many drummers in your tour van? We don’t have a van... our drummers do! I know it seems irrelevant but give me your opinion on Les Claypool (Primus). Les is more I guess. I’m not into supersonic funk and noise wankers… Sometimes one punch to the head is more effective than 20. Who’s making your video? Kaare Andrews is a Marvel comic book artist from Vancouver. He does it all: Spiderman, Hulk, Beta Band cover art, Tegan and Sara video… and now “Ultimate Power Duo vs. Optimus Prime Round 1”. It’s cool to see someone so creative, like Leonardo Da Vinci, but this guy can really party. I’ve been with him in two riots, a handful of arrests, numerfrom crayons to oils? Well this is another fine display of the transition from colouring inside the lines to creating textures and depth through imagery. I once again am thankful to my brother for his guidance as I’m now giving up on this plastic Crayola box sharpener and moving on to acrylics. - Hopeless Van Halen Best of Both Worlds Warner Brothers Say what you will about Van Hagar (yep, Sammy’s back), this double CD of Halen classics (plus three newbies) had me re-examining my complete disregard for this band. But first off, the trio of new selections is bogus. Think Alex and Eddie brainstorming in their middleaged squareness about the best way to appeal to music fans younger than they are (you know, like all of those 40-year-olds itching for new Halen). So we get a couple of aged, pony-tailed sub-rockers and one shitty venture into moral high ground, Hagar style. Ah well. But the old stuff… the old stuff is hot. “Hot for Teacher” even. Despite the stupid, caveman-like delivery of original mouthpiece David Lee Roth, Van Halen just wrote better songs in their formative years. Like all rock bands do. Ditch Hagar, bring back David Lee, lose the synths, then call me. I’ll be up for a new studio album. - Jason Schreurs The Sirens s/t Get Hip Recordings

ous scuffles, and many beers. I even tried to bust him out of a cop car at one riot. The cops left the door open. I said I could cut the cuffs. We never made it that far — I got pepper-sprayed... Will your video illustrate what Optimus Prime is doing? Because in the song you ask, “Hey! Over there! Optimus Prime! What are you doing?” but you never actually reveal what he’s doing. There’s talk of “Gobots”. I find it very stressful. It’s about the Ultimate Power Duo calling Optimus Prime to step up, or we’re gonna take ‘em down. We see what he’s doing and we take offense: he shouldn’t be doing what’s he’s doing! A confrontation ensues and we step into round 1. Don’t stress the Gobots. They’re the protagonists. Why is Saskatchewan so liberal with its licensing yet they throw pot advocate Marc Emery in jail for 3 months for passing out 2 joints? Isn’t that a douche? We have been asked to be part of a benefit concert for Mark Emery. Ultimate Power Duo vs. the Hypocrites. It’s important to have a mic in times of need. I am just glad we live in a time when laws and governments take only our best interests into consideration, cause if they didn’t then government, lawyers and judges would take too much cocaine and go to war under false pretenses. Whew! I am glad we don’t live in a world like that… oh wait! -Mack

my wettest dreams. An all-female fivepiece with impeccable taste in clothing and cover versions, their debut album takes in Gary Glitter, The Hollywood Brats, Roky Erickson, Suzi Quatro and Michigan’s own spiritual mothers of fuzz and echo, the equally boob-some The Luv’d Ones. Things really take off though when The Sirens turn their attention to a couple of heavy R&B classics: a chomping version of Ike Turner’s “I’m Blue” and a magnificent take on the Gladys Knight nugget, “I’ve Got To Use My Imagination”. Singer Muffy Kroha has the best name and the longest legs in Rock ‘n’ Roll today. They are ridiculously well-connected (both the band and Muffy’s legs). - Mack Who Cares s/t ECX Records Remember those Maclean and Maclean records your parents used to listen to while they smoked their pot? Well here comes the second coming of Christ, as it were (if he was two guy’s singing about clean pussy and blow jobs). This is a must find for any sick pervert who thinks Tacoma is the capital of Washington. - Plow

These Sirens, Detroit’s distaff version of The Dirtbombs, seem to have been plucked from

CONVERGE YOU FAIL ME

Available September 21

convergecult.com

AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 21 Specially Priced Downtown Vancouver: 556 Seymour St. 687-5837 • South Vancouver: 732 SW Marine Drive 321-5112 • East Vancouver: 3433 E. Hastings St. 298-0464 Coquitlam: 2739 Barnet Hwy. 468-1111 • Burnaby: 4568 Kingsway 439-0223 • Surrey: 10280 135th. St. 589-7500 • Langley: 20460 Langley Bypass 533-8600 Abbotsford: 2369 McCallum Rd. 859-4200 • Downtown Victoria: 641 Yates Street 385-1461 • Downtown Nanaimo: 9 Commercial Street 753-3241

Worst CD

Where Were You on August 8th, 2004? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

e’re not ones to toot our own horns around here at Nerve HQ, or at least I don’t think we are, but after receiving the following very nice letter, Brad and I both bent forward as far as we could and gave each other a big hard “toot”! Damn it felt good! Turning our attention now to the rest of the world… where were you on the above date? If your answer is anything other than “where Randal Dillan was”, then you’re what we In the Navy types call a “landlubber”. Which must be French for “Loser Asshole”! So read on! Dear The Editor, Old Punk Rocker me and my longtime babe could not resist stuffing the cash needed into our pockets to see SprëadEagle, John Ford and the Black Halos perform during a three hour cruise of Vancouver’s Harbor. And we made sure to bring along lots of pop money too because it has been hotter than Satan’s panty drawer in the city this summer. We boarded early which was nice because we got to see Billy Hopeless work on his performance buzz right from the word go. Since we spend more time at Hastings Park than punk shows these days the guys in the other bands were unknowns to us. They were working hard on getting relaxed for their performances also. You cannot hide backstage with a needle sticking out of your arm or leg on a small boat. I liked the crowd. There were a few dears on board older than us. The gals on board were noticeably showing less butt crack than your average Valley Girl. Funny how it is the Britney Spears wannabes are dressing more risky than the Bif Naked sortofs. I really liked SprëadEagle. Most

of their songs seemed to be called “Bad Motherfuck-er”. You would think a Canadian band would call themselves Spread Beaver. They played out in Mission recently and I missed them and therefore missed out. John Ford was next up. Their beaded necks went well with the large amounts of B.C. tobacco that were being consumed by this time. It is a wonder the harbor fire patrol were not called into action. It is good to see today’s punk rock crowd smoking themselves up instead of loading themselves up with needles and pins like the old days. Everyone will have a much better chance of living to be old enough to look back proudly aghast on their youth. It is worth living into your forties for that alone. Ford was playing when the ship circled a cargo ship in mid-harbor. The crew was properly impressed by the noisy spectacle. Between shows a DJ called my!gay!husband! filled the space with his records. It was great to hear Sparks’ “Amateur Hour” for the first time in over two decades. The Halos, recently reformed and reenergized, or so I gathered, did not disappoint. They were loud, obnoxious, funny and smelly: everything you can ask for out of a punk outfit. Loved ’em. They even played “Sea Cruise” which I hadn’t heard played well since the days of Rude Norton. If Nerve promotes a similar show next year do not miss it because if you missed this year’s event you missed out!

Colonel Claypool’s Bucket of Bernie Brains The Big Eyeball in the Sky Prawn Song Records

azz, they tell me, is all about the notes that aren’t played. In Les Claypool’s world, there is no such thing as an unplayed note. Less is more for all musicians of taste but the ex-Primus man defines the (possibly) sinister inversion of that rule. In his case, sadly, Les is more. And that’s why Claypool’s music, which I spell with a small and tentative “m”, is wretched beyond compare and unfit for the ears of the Damned. This CD reminds me of tie-dyed Berkley students gaily jamming themselves into a Volkswagen Beetle, the kind of hackle-raising event that Claypool has almost certainly organized at some point in his life, being that he’s such a determined “clown” (the kind that reads books about “clowning”). We’ll come back to the perplexing issue of his “humour” but first, let’s examine how stupid he is in other ways: For instance, I would argue that having 4 strings on your bass makes you over-prepared. Claypool inhabits a world where they use six of the fuckers! He’s like that beardy cunt in the Canadian Tire commercials - that smug, shirt-tucked-in handy-dad that shows up at a campsite with a battery that’s bigger than Jesus so he can run his outdoor beard trimmer or his electric camping boots or whatever the

fuck it is he needs to take into the woods in order to be white and annoying. My dad would have kicked the shit out of that mugging Project Management Lemon, for he is the Claypool of Outdoorsmanship. Meanwhile, the Colonel’s ego-struck asscrappery extends all the way to humiliating the great Bernie Worrell, who does the right thing on this record by hitting a note once in a while and then nodding off. The rest of the band naturally behave like constipated honkies. Among them, as their name wittily acknowledges, is Buckethead. He’s that maroon from Guns N’ Roses with the worst gimmick I’ve ever seen: being in Guns N’ Roses. I’m certain Claypool believes we are slavishly captivated by his wonderfully child-like mind, yawn, though I’m afraid that listening to him yuck shamelessly through some halfbaked rap about a guy who shoots cocaine into his dick – well, it’s enough to give a man the dreaded Lurgee. It might have played in the valley in 69, and it would still get a big cheer on Pender Island on the odd Solstice I’m guessing but, honestly, this Freak Flag stuff is just not funny. In closing, I offer this admonition: listen if you must but don’t sing along as you run the risk of swallowing your tongue. It’s a unique danger, certain Frank Zappa records might be the only real competition, but it’s grave enough that I propose introducing the entire Claypool catalogue to a bonfire. I’m naturally opposed to all forms of censorship, but come on! Safety first! Recommended to anybody who thought Mike Bullard’s band was really “smokin’!” - Mack

Top on down: SprëadEagle, John Ford, and The Black Halos.

Books

Skate

Skate Spot

**********Greek Love

Destructo Maximus ANTiSEEN Steel Cage Books

NTiSEEN are a bunch of hardcore hellbillies from North Carolina who have been blowing big holes in the heads of rednecks since 1983. This book is a chronicle of their 20 years as a band told through hundreds, possibly thousands, of newspaper and magazine clippings. Other biographies are retrospective and the recalling of events is often tainted by time, but the method used in Destructo Maximus is cool because it presents ANTiSEEN’s history as it was told at the time by the media. The whole package is so sweet. The cover is black fun-leather with the title in silver foil. It’s fatter than Boss Hogg and full of glossy pages packed edge to edge with microfilm sized stories clipped straight from their sources and copied. Every record review, every interview, every show review, basically any time these guys appeared in print - it is all in the book. Pictures litter every page, there must be thousands, and a good many of them are in colour. Complete discography. Complete lyrics to every song. There’s also a series of current interviews done just for the book with all members past and present. If you are already fan of ANTiSEEN this book will be straight up porn. If not, it will open your eyes to a massively slept-on band. They both frightened and influenced Mudhoney and Nirvana among (countless others), they performed and recorded with GG Allin, and their live shows strongly infringed on most of humanity’s quietly agreed upon boundries of decency and good taste. Barbed wire stage set-ups, explosions, extreme wrestling, bloody episodes of self mutilation and more destroyed equipment than Pete Townsend doing a Juicy Fruit commercial. Sadly, this book is also a sad reminder of how 99and44/100% of the bands out there are fucking sad. - J.Pee Patchez

the RDS Uber-park for the DC Nationals skate comp on Saturday, August 28. Antoine Asselim had the winning Grecian formula, taking the men’s top slot despite a 2-minute penalty for looking so good. The silver medal went to Thomas Perent, bronze to Ryan Decenzo, and Canadian place to Magnus Hanson. In the girls’ comp, Carrie Williams carried the day, followed by Rose Archie and Meghan Wright. The next day at the AMbush comp at the Tsawassen skatepark, it was the Dermatologist, Geoff Dermer, ruling amazingly ass to the gnarmillions. He’s what this year’s fashionable granite ledge is wearing. Y’all slip this guy some skin when you see him, undadig? Meanwhile, TrendsWorld SkateWhoring lowered the price of their skate bible, putting the industry stamp of approval on the looming post-Baby-Boomers-kids skate recession. (Don’t get us wrong, we love TWS!) If skateboarding is dead again, then bury us upright in O.G. Big Brother cereal boxes clutching the 1991 Sega Genesis game “PacMania”. Personally I foresee cooking up urethane in bathtubs like prohibition gin, hand-pouring 30mm wheels in muffin tins, and muling them across the post-9/11 border in swallowed condoms. Alternately, we can all stand around doing pressure flips and focusing our paperthin decks to increase board sales. I wonder if being a critical cliquish asshole will be cool again? We can only hope. The good news is that the kids of this skate generation seem to be open-minded, talented ripsters with zero attitude. What’s up, Alistair and Gwaliga? Plus, Jason Lee is back in stereo. We hung out with Rocky at the Lonsdale Board Co. shop, right by D-Rad + Miss K-Grind: Neo-Modern Pentathletes the Lonsdale street park. He’s showing a lot of support for small local ell, the Olympics are over. They sparked up that big Santiago companies, stocking Rednek, Graham Buksa’s Rayne longboards, and Calatrava blunt, a bunch of folks got busted for drug use, photog Julia Davis’ Pashu line. Speaking of longboards and photomedals were won and lost, and people enjoyed the original graphs, Dan Mitchell has an exhibition of pix up at the Naam restaurant Olympic sports of in Kits. Gnar czar Char’s band Hunter has a new country album out pointed-stick throwing called “Half Way There”, with the title track dedicated to the memory of and Greco-Roman Rachel Davis. We also checked out the last night at the Cobalt, with sodomy. Canadians, some Heavy Artillery, Zuckuss, some other stuff and Jonny Rad’s (from sponsored by their S.T.R.E.E-T.S.) new band whose name we knoweth not, but liketh a lot. regional Food Banks, Thanks, Cobalt. stepped on cracks while Up next is the RDS/Roughriders East Meets West 4 contest held running under ladders Sept 1-5, also at the RDS Skatepark, Unit 150 - 14380 Triangle Road in filled with black cats. Richmond. There’s a Best Trick session on Saturday with $1000 in The Marathon ran away prizes up for grabs, so call 604.271.7275 or check eastwestskate.com for with a zealot, then there more info. As to who will Shewfelt and who will Perdita, I believe it was wuz fireworks an’ stuff the lizard guru Yoda who said “...difficult to see. Always in motion is the blowed up good. We future.” So check out the roamin’ gladiators testing their joints with seen it on th’ Tee-Vee. smokin’ blunts in RDS’ contemporary masonite Acropolis. In parallel fashion, shredsters of Olympian -D-Rad and Miss K-grind. Email us at downspace@telus.net ambition from all over the land converged at

VIDEO SOUND Featuring the single “WATCH YOUR MONEY”

THE WAKING EYES - Video Sound

It might seem incredible but since forming in the Spring of 2002, The Waking Eyes have released a critically acclaimed independent album, and signed a record deal. It might not seem so incredible once you get an earful of their brand of ferocious rock music that brings to mind the halcyon days of The Stooges and MC 5 mixed with a healthy nod to the more sardonic side of the Beatles.

Specially Priced!

“WATCH YOUR MONEY” SINGLE AVAILABLE NOW www.thewakingeyes.com Downtown Vancouver: 556 Seymour St. 687-5837 • South Vancouver: 732 SW Marine Drive 321-5112 East Vancouver: 3433 E. Hastings St. 298-0464 • Coquitlam: 2739 Barnett Hwy 468-1111 Burnaby: 4568 Kingsway 439-0223 • Surrey: 10280 135th. St. 589-7500 Langley: 20460 Langley Bypass 533-8600 • Abbotsford: 2369 McCallum Rd. 859-4200 Downtown Victoria: 641 Yates Street 385-1461 • Downtown Nanaimo: 9 Commercial Street 753-3241

Film

The Ultimate and Official Top Ten of my favorite Corey Feldman Films

Gore VISCERAL VIOLENT ENACTED REALITY

By Jackie Dives

By Sinister Sam

while back I was called and invited out to participate in a short film project with Chris Bavota of Oddity Cinema fame and filmmaker Chris Barry. The film involved the three of us (Chris Barry on camera) playing three non-descript characters that happen upon a guy on the street (played by Duncan Stewart). We coax him into coming home with us for “beers”, and then we proceed to torture, beat, and eventually murder him. The most interesting concept behind the reality-based piece (the cameraman also participated in the torture) was sitting around amongst all the shed props and discussing at length what was needed to accumulate an intensity or stature relevant to the film and it’s delivery of over-the-top reality-based uneasiness. The film, eventually titled ALONE BUT NOT LONELY (2003), got edited and turned back into the hands of the participants. Kier-La Janisse got a look at the tape before she slotted it for that year’s Cinemuerte Horror Film Festival. I have to admit that the short film turned out pretty good. Murder victim/Duncan’s acting was amazing, driving me to ponder some suggestions to the crowd to treat the film as some sort of experiment. Some films that are made this way can fall flat on their faces, walking the FINE line between cheap exploitation (making the film to appease ourselves), or a societal statement. To make a long story short, some people hated the film, some people walked out because of the intensity, and some people came up to me afterwards and said that the film really got to them – “disturbed” them even. We definitely had the detractors, but on a whole, everyone that eventually checked out the tape or DVD afterwards thought that the film was relatively well done. I recently got my hands on AUGUST UNDERGROUND’S MORDUM (2003 Dir. Jeramie Cruise, Killjoy, Mike Schneider, Fred Vogel, Cristie Whiles), and it definitely reminded me of the short film that I participated in, but involving many more extremes. The film could easily be one of the harshest spectacles of all time, as we watch the characters proceed to torture and kill the people around them, all the while making use of a local cameraman who is also on hand, giving us the reality based connection and delivering all the torturous sequences with a very rough intensity. The crew made use of real prosthetics and effects work and the rough exteriors of the presentation make the film all the more shocking and driven. MORDUM gets mixed reviews from a lot of people, but all in all, it’s another exercise in reality-based intense visceral violence that I think has a strong place in the world of the horror or shock film. The film has already reached legendary status as customers around the globe are experiencing the age old customs hassles that we thought went away some time ago when films like CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST and MEN BEHIND THE SUN finally got major distribution. When Chris, and Chris, and I were sitting around and discussing the nature of editing ALONE BUT NOT LONELY, we made a list of all the titles that we felt conjured techniques, or lack of techniques, to achieve some sort of virtual terror. Recently, IRREVERSIBLE (2002) masterfully played with such elements using a reality based cut and paste of scenes that are long play, but achieve a very strong use of realist violence. Legends of the weaving real/unreal scenario that make use of heightened screaming and torture play are films such as LAST

I HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972) and THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (1974). The snuff film scenario, one of the driving forces in the realm of the films at hand here, drove the epics LAST HOUSE ON DEAD END STREET (1977 Dir. Roger Watkins) and EMAUNELLE IN AMERICA (1977 Dir. Joe D’Amato) as both films concern themselves with the making of snuff films, thus partaking in the opportunity to inflict the faked “snuff” footage upon the masses. EMANUELLE IN AMERICA has one of the most disturbing and realistic scenes ever brought to the screen (when titular character Laura Gemser finally sees some of the “snuff” footage floating around) that still has a lot of people barking about the scenario coupled with the overt use of XXX scenes, pushing the limits throughout the film. It’s definitely an example of the hard stuff from the glory days of Eurotrash. CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST’s infamous mayhem that corners the end of the film is still another of the masterworks of the topic at hand here. I’ve never seen a film with more people who are pretty much dumbfounded and silent during the final massacre sequences that are filmed from a basic reality based atmosphere from some “documentary” filmmakers. Again, there’s the fine line mentioned above, but there’s also measurements can be made to differentiate between edited filmatic works and those of the reality based material. Surely GUINEA PIG: FLOWER OF FLESH AND BLOOD (1985 Dir. Hideshi Hino) falls into a strange and milestone category of “gorenography”, but the film is, again, an edited piece that happens to effect people the same way. As the story goes, Charlie Sheen even managed to turn it in as a legitimate snuff film after he watched it at some party. I can go on and on, but I wanted to just make mention of this genre that is definitely making it’s rounds and developing into a new standard with feature length films such as AUGUST UNDERGROUND’S MORDUM. I’ve got to mention though that nothing is as pulled-off and trashy as the end of SNUFF (1976 Dir. Michael Findlay). In amongst all the examples of varied and examined shock cinema, I still think that SNUFF is one of the prime examples of a calculated and forced ending into oblivion.

missed the 80’s. Why? Cause I was born in the middle of it. Unfortunate? I don’t thinks so, but I’ve discovered it wasn’t without merit. I was a small child when Molly Ringwald and Corey Feldman took over the world of adolescent film; when big hair and leg warmers were what made you HOT and wallpaper, couches, blankets and every other surface was covered with geometric shapes in hot pink and turquoise. Anyway, I used to work at Rogers Video, King of the Canadian Corporate Castle. I got two things out of that job; free movies and contempt. But I must admit, having unlimited access to their shitty racks of shitty movies was almost as good as having food in your fridge, especially for a broke and miserable girl such as myself. I unconsciously decided to go through the flicks by decades as opposed to alphabetically. And suddenly, like magic, I was transported to the 80’s and my love of Corey Feldman began.

7. This one’s for you Mack. Corey, as a very young lad, played Regi Tower in the TV series The Bad News Bears.

The Ultimate and Official Top Ten of my favorite Corey Feldman Films.

4. After watching The Lost Boys, no one could deny that Corey Feldman was the perfect person to do the voice of Donatello in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles parts one and three. I can remember lining up to see the first one on opening night at Oakridge Center. Truely a fantastic film.

10. In Citizen Toxie: The Toxic Avenger Part 4, directed by Lloyd Kaufman in 2000, Corey (credited as Kinky Finklestein) plays the role of Sarah’s Gynecologist along side Ron Jeremy. Corey was also in Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy in 2001 but sadly to him, I’m sure, was not credited. 9. I haven’t seen the movie I am about to list next, but I’m putting it in here anyway. It’s called Edge of Honor, was directed by Michael Spence in 1991 and is apparently about some boy scouts who are doing whatever it is that boy scouts do in the forest, when they come across a bunch of weapons that belong to the bad guys, who they then have to fight off for the rest of the movie. This film co-stars Don Swayze. Yes, that’s right, Patrick Swayze has a little brother who is also an actor. I was completely unaware of this fact and after doing some further research I discovered that I’d never heard of any of the 31 other movies he’s been in. Have you? One Swayze is all the world should have to handle… anyway, back to Feldman… 8. The first role Corey ever landed (at the age of three) was for a McDonalds commercial to promote their gift certificates. I think that’s all that needs to be said here.

6. In 1989 Corey shows up as Ricky Butler in The Burbs. Joe Dante directed this movie, which is why you can spot a box of Gremlins cereal in one of the breakfast scenes. Another interesting fact about this piece is that Landru, the name of the Klopek’s dog in The Burbs, is also the name of a French serial killer. Coincidence? I freakin’ hope so. 5. Gremlins, also directed by Joe Dante, was one of my favorite movies as a kid. A boy receives a soft and squishy pet that turns into a salivating killing machines. What more could a nine year old girl ask for in a movie? I must have seen it fifty times before my thirteenth birthday. By then I guess it was a seven-day release, being made the year I was born and all.

3. Lets give props to Corey (or whoever decided on his wardrobe) for wearing a Purple Rain t-shirt through the entire Goonies movie. What a pre-teen stud he was. 2. If you ever get tired of the way Teddy Duchamp laughs in Stand By Me, you have director Rob Reiner to thank for making Corey try thirty different laughs and then choosing that one. Let’s all take a moment to thank Christ that none of us have leeches on our balls or, er, bits… can ya hear it now? 1. I suppose Edgar Frog is more interesting of a name than David, Marco, Paul or Dwayne, the names of the vampires in the The Lost Boys, as well as the names of Peter Pan’s “lost boys”. So Edgar Frog it shall be, and one of the best roles Mr. Feldman has ever played. So good in fact, that he won the 1987 Youth In Film Award for it. And finally, in my opinion, Corey Feldman would have played a much better Joey than Joey Lawrence did. Fin.

Ainsworth

My Bloody Road to Death

By J. Ainsworth

look at what that short fellow said to his companion. “Yo! I axe you get chilldog; wassap witchue assHOLE!”

n England, the adjective petite refers solely to height, if you can believe that. On the continent, however, petite, when used descriptively, must, repeat, must take into account the grotesquery of the whole form. Ipso facto, a huge rotten cucumber of a woman, three-dick mouth and all, abandoned by God, huge rotten thing, is in fact petite if she lives in England. In France, in France they would shave her head in the street. I saw it happen in the war. And that is the right thing to do. Petite my ass, you species of cucumber. I am sick to death of all you bastards and your bad grammar. The other day I was walking down the street, minding my own son-of-abitch business. I overheard this man say to his short friend… I can barely bring myself to repeat it. Oh, God, journalism is a heavy weight because its about questing for the truth. This gentleman (cough) said…. I am quoting this, please do not for a moment think that I made this up myself, or even thought this. “We go to the park pick up hootchis.” The reply stopped a beating cock…

“Yo! I axe you get chilldog; wassap witchue assHOLE!” Absurd. Outrageous. Indefensible. These three sentence fragments stand like faggots blowing in a wind of grammerlessness. Nobody worries about grammar in this town anymore. Did you know that the Vancouver Province used to run a two to six page weekly feature (on Thursdays, called in Denmark Gransttag, or literally translated, Grammar Day) on contemporary trends in grammar and comparative linguistics? NO YOU MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT IN FACT KNOW AS THE FEATURE RAN FROM JUNE OF 1958 TO MARCH OF 1991 AT WHICH TIME all you cocksuckers were still taking the breast. Do you have any idea what a lackluster grammatical syllabus in school leads to? Labour Surplus! And it’s the schools that are to blame. Yes it is. It’s the schools. You know where else they don’t care about good grammar? COMMUNIST RUSSIA. I mean, lets just have a

While parsing this statement the first thing that comes to the eye is my… enthusiastic transliteration of “asshole”. I apologize, but I maintain that there was no other way to put into words his enthusiasm for this construct. The “ass” was said slowly, his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation. He split the word in two pieces like a pair of lips, and meatily asphiperated the word….”aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaassssss…sssssss… ……HHHHOOOOLLEE!” It was like Vesuvius came out his mouth in word form. I have never seen a happier or more enthusused short fat man. I don’t understand what the yo means; let’s take it for a vocalized pause, or a German flick word. This is impossible. It’s just gibberish I cannot maintain any sort of enthusiasm for the criticism of speech at this level of crapulence. I did not in fact earn my doctorate at Uppsala accidentally sucking off large breasted blond transvestites with a dog watching to put up with this. It is literally beneath my interest. Purely out of academic interest, “Yo! I axe you get chilldog; wassap witchue assHOLE!” is the Third Person Plural Future Indicative Active of the verb. Just remember. The only other place where they don’t care about grammar is Nazi Germany. A sad moment. So the Cobalt went south. I used to drink there when I was only a boy. It reminds me of some lines from a beautiful American song by famous songstress Dolly Parsons... “Family and friends/ are so prouuu—ouu—dd of you/ But I can’t accept/ The fact that you’re gone/ When others go on with there li—ive—es/ I see you in ourrrrrrrr children’s eyes.” And that’s the end of that. Thanks for reading!

Games

Puzzle Page

Win a pair of tickets to The Briefs show Oct 3rd at Mesa Luna Bring your completed puzzles in person:to The Nerve office weekdays between 12- 5pm or you can mail them to: The Nerve Magazine 508-825 Granville St. Vancouver, BC V6Z-1K9

-by Dan Scum 1

52 56

Across 1. One who copulates (resist) 7. Cause of Mad Cow Disease 11. P-U filler 14. Lavigne et al. 15. Rapper ____ Kim 16. Prefix meaning Chinese 17. Homosexual drummer of Selfish RegiME and The Gay Shitty Golers 19. Internet business 20. Swine feed 21. What you must do to get an answer 22. Weather attack 23. Dodge models 25. Lousy 26. Everything 29. Student Representative Council 30. Type of corn or cycle 31. CIA forerunner 32. Part of a of hammer or Sausage hut pastime 34. If Lupus DRUMMER Ben Dover died? 37. Wonder Woman Linda 39. Dumped from the team 40. LLDPE wrap brand name 43. What the King of the Sea DRUMS along to? 46. Loverboy Mike or Att. Janet 47. Where to learn (abbrv.) 49. Resistance unit 50. Slangy toupee 52. Command for Fido 53. Bleach brand name 55. Drummer for Dissent and The Inebriators or Serial killer Lucas 57. Nina or Uta 58. Mason make 59. Birth control devices 62. La ____ Bonita 63. If Metallica’s DRUMMER couldn’t breathe or Cum Soc’s DRUMMER’s name

25 30

21 23

18 20

66. Luncheon Chub Brand Name 67. Kiss My ______ 68. DRUM stick irritation 69. Hotmail network 70. _____ Kosh B’gosh 71. Plusses

61 65

Island’s direction on the compass (I think) 35. Convent resident 36. How a French dude says “hear” 38. Lap DRUMMER’s utensil 41. DiFranco or Kyd 42. Anthrax expletive 44. “The audience is listening” 45. Astrophysicist’s study 47. Hostility 48. Bra feature 51. Questions intensely 54. Bore a hole in (as in ass) 55. Tokes, sometimes 56. Andropov and Slegr 58. Boss DRUMMER of Zuckuss and Tendonitis 60. The Cobalt, for example 61. South Carolina Education Tuition 63. ______ Paulo, Brasil 64. Dubya’s Home 65. Days denomination (abbrv.)

Down 1. Derogatory term for a male homosexual or a British cigarette 2. Gamma rays from the sun 3. GM member (abbrv.) 4. Japanese robe (minus the last letter) 5. Runs away to marry 6. Royal Secret Service 7. Bestow goodness upon 8. Oriental fabric 9. Building addition 11. If Bon Jovi’s DRUMMER was indicted on racketeering charges 12. Sniffs coke 13. DRUMMERS Lee and Aldridge 16. Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence 18. Dan Scum at a Soc hop? 22. Victoria band with DRUMMER Last Issue’s Solution: Blind Mark or crude,homeB A M H O Y A S A R made stabbing I D E S L Y R E S L I E weapons L I I I O P E N S A D A 24. Sphere 25. Semi Natural L O N G J O H N S I L V E R S E N A T E S E E Occurrence 26. Gorilla S E N S T D S K genus M A J O R S O S D I E 27. Jeans maker R E R U N R O B M A T E (abbrv.) E R R S F U N M O D E L 28. If Strapping M E R P A M S U D Young Lad’s A R I A T E A S E DRUMMER S H I V E R M E T I M B E R lost 50 kg O O N A E A T I N E V E 30. Threat makT O R S S C A R Y S E C ers S K I T T E L E N T 33. Baffin

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