again, with the rerun, because i can:
(4.11.01)
This entire week (and it's only Wednsday mind you) has been less-than-stellar. Capped by Scraps' little performance last night, when she went all ferocious on a small human who came rocketing out of nowhere (who knew 4-year-olds could levitate? and had turbo-thrusters?). There I was, disembarking from the vehicle, groceries in one hand, Scraps in the other, and as I turned to open the trunk, up ran Small Child (who, mind you, was playing unsupervised with her brother and the neighborkid in THE PARKING LOT) and as she got within a foot of Scraps she chirped "What's your dog's name?" and thrust out her paw (sorry, hand) at which time I was in the midst of blurting "No, she might bite you" (I was thinking she was going to ask to pet Scraps, like they usually do), jerking Scraps towords me (the leash was laced between the fingers of my right hand - wrong hand, by the way, obedience school gets you into the groove of having the leash (and the dog) on the left which gives you more control, and...oh, never mind) as Scraps, seeing the small squirrly thing approaching, lunged to put a stop to it as cattle dogs naturally do. However, this wasn't a cow. It was a kid, with her little hand out. Luckily (for me, and for Scraps) all she did was a quick snap, and put a small gash on the girl's index finger. I yanked back hard, girl screamed. Brother screamed for Mom. Mom came out. i stood there literally frozen with anger, frustration and, to be honest, dread. This city recently passed really amazingly fucked-up laws regarding what constitutes "aggressive behavior" and Scraps has a record. She could have been (could be) toast for this. Even though it's purely natural for her to behave in the manner in which she did. The Mom was very cool about it, taking responsibility for not watching her pup, as I did for mine. I apologized and told her that I tried to warn her offspring, but the tyke was on a collision course with a painful learning experience.

Once again, I must voice my firm belief in parents teaching their kids simple rules of behavior: Don't run up to strange dogs. Ask before petting. Ask before using anything that doesn't belong to you, as a matter of fact. General rules of conduct seem to be sorely lacking in this day and age. But anyway. The mother was calm and carried child away, I was shaking from the center of my being and returned to the apartment, completely destroyed. I can't help but feel that I should have had control of my dog. Ultimately, that's the deal. I know how she is, and I need to protect her from situations where her instinct will get her into trouble. That's my job as a dog owner. Goddamnit.

Later, I made dinner and a cake. SMRGE was, as always, patient and thoughtful and being near him soothes me like nothing else does. The evening devolved quietly.

Anyway.

It's not that i don't have anything to say about the passing of Joey Ramone, especially since it came right on the heels of attendence at a DOA show (DOA circa 2001, a fascinating study in the evolution of punk rock, so to speak), nah, I just haven't had a moment to sit down and write for longer than 15 minutes in the last week or so. There's plenty to cover though with those events plus there's the arrival of the This Side Up cd (gotta get in a review of that) and of course the requesite band status update. An update, I'm happy to report that is a good one. Possibly for the first time ever I feel like I'm in a BAND and not just playing with Mike and a drummer. Which rules. Though Monday night, SMRGE and Julie got a little taste of the glory that is Cranky Boy B. But it seemed to be pretty diffuse, so that is a good sign methinks.

Four shows coming up, 2 at Zak's (this Saturday and next) then uhmm...the Central and uh, Thermo's. It's good to be playing out though - nothing really gets you as tight. Though practice sure helps. Usually.

Right. So, I'm a bit frazzled at the moment, the third week of being my own little helper monkey at work is catching up to me, I think. And the allergies still suck...but I digress.

Back to the p-rawk. So, we (me and the Single Most Rocking Guy Ever, of course) made the scene at the DOA show last Friday night. I hadn't bothered to attend a gig by Canada's Finest in a few years...but Randy Rampage, he of the original lineup (which I'd only heard rumors of, never actually seen before...by the time I met up with DOA, Rampage had left the grey skies of Van for sunny LA and a career in medicore butt-rock bands) was back on board, so that peaked my interest a bit. After seeing them more than a dozen times now, it takes some doing to get me to make the effort. On the other hand, it was SMRGE's initial exposure to the all powerful legend of DOA, which is important. Certainly, being able to see them 10 years ago would be far more impactful (whoo, stretching the grammar boundries again...) than seeing them now. But I think exposure to Joey Shithead is always a useful thing. He's such a...standard-bearer, I guess. We were sitting with Mike and Molly when Joe came to the table to say hi to Mike, he didn't recognize me at first, but after Mike refreshed him, Joe slid into the booth next to me (after asking if he could sit - there was a weird thing where I thought he was giving me a hug, but he was just trying to sit down, but since I wasn't getting that part - he asked...that's what I fucking love though, that good ol' straight-ahead Joe) and we talked a bit. it was a little awkward for me, but Joe picked up just as if I'd been working for them last weekend. Which was cool. He didn't stay long, off to do the DOA stuff that he does - he does all the manager-type stuff now as well as running his own label too, and I'm quite familiar with how close he watches stuff like the crowd and the merch, so it came as no suprise to me that he was off fairly soon.

Right...so the show. Didn't check out D.I., the other old-guy punk rock band on the bill. They're from Orange County, and I've never been a big fan. At a certain point I blamed them for a lot of the metal crap that infiltrated the scene in the '90s, but then realized that I was lumping them in with bands like DRI...actually, DI are just sorta dull. They all look really SoCAl punk, which is always nice to see amongst the Settle scenester trash. Though, this crowd was really old school, full of people who you know don't go out to many shows anymore, but were all revved up for DOA. Much excessive drinking, a small, but active circle going on, and two girls down front, which always makes me happy to see. Especially at such a burly boys-night-out as this was.

So, the DOA set was packed with classics (don't think I'd heard most of those songs in years, all the really old stuff, including dragging out the old Subhumans tune "Slave to My Dick"), so that was good. Joe was completely on his game, shaking that head, pointing that finger, and whirling that SG around like a toy. He's a big guy, and those guitars (one of which I'll have shortly!! woohoo!) are light anyway, but man, I had forgotten how he throws it around...played it behind his head, with his teeth, swung it around...he definitely is way more into it when they're just a three piece. Still broke out some props, which suprised me. I'm okay with the chainsaw for "Lumberjack City", and was happy he didn't do the whole preacher thing he was doing for a while. They sounded good, and Joe got some political stuff in - including changing the lyrics to "Fucked up Ronnie" to "fucked-up Bush". Rampage also yapped way too much, in a good ol' glam way that was just this side of emabarrassing. Really, Joe should do all the talking, especially the political stuff. Taking that on the road wouldn't be the best idea, though I think Joe mentioned maybe going to Europe. Well, I guess if it gets ya offa the continent... The set list made it clear that Rampage wasn't down with learning many new songs (new to him mind you), so many of my favorites from "Wreck the Party" and "True North" didn't get played. But they got most of them. SMRGE seemed to dig it, Molly (also her first exposure to them) seemed to be enjoying it (though she didn't like Rampage & his long metal hair at all) and Mike was...really fucking drunk. Sweet. We took off mid-way through their encore.

So, by Monday I was all set to ruminate on the old-punk-rock things...like making up names for yourself like Randy Rampage, or Joey Shithead, or Joey Ramone. Whenever I see DOA, no matter how often I've seen them, or how poor the sound or show might be, I'm always reminded of the sense of humor and actual intelligence that was often behind punk rock in it's begining. You just don't see that anymore. You can't, because it'll never be new again, it'll never be that "weird music" played by people who don't fit in. With the passing of Joey Ramone, I'm reminded of how normal punk rock is on the surface, but also, how it continues to chug along, just below the surface. Joey is, as SMRGE put it - a cool middle aged Canadian (VERY Canadian!) guy. Who happens to play in a legendary punk rock band. He obviously could have given it up long ago...but hasn't. He's tried other things (solo acoustic, even, or running for office in his home city of Burnaby) and comes back to doing what he knows best. They are (Joey and Joey, interestingly) of an era that is truly revolutionary in that they created a place within, and without the mainstream. The mainstream came to Joey Ramone, and the fact that his death is reported in all the major news reports is telling. Whatever punk rock has become, it cannot deny where it came from, and that is from people who wanted to do it differently. Who weren't willing to be like everyone else. For that I thank them, because it helps me give form to my own way of seeing.

My favorite Ramones album? Rocket To Russia. Favorite Ramones song? Why, "We're a Happy Family" of course.

I wonder what Adam's favorite Ramones song is? I got the TSU cd in the mail on Monday - just raining punk rock in my world I guess. And of course whenever I think of the Ramones I think of Adam as well - he is a huge fan, and when we first met, he was rocking the leather jacket, striped shirt, mop o' black hair look, and when I first lent him my bass, the first thing he plunked out was "Sheena is a punk rocker". Funny stuff. So anyway, the cd is very melodo-hardcore, the vocals are really rough, but overall, not a bad representation of the band. I was amused by how very Agent 86-ish some songs were. He plays bass like I do (but he also sings, so at least he's got that for an excuse, eh?), and the songs are all his, written and sung in English, and are all pretty good. Adam is probably my one remaining link to that old-school punk rock world, the one that is carried in your heart, the one that sets you apart. It's good to see TSU's cd finally become a reality.

rerun, but unplayed here: (( first in a series of migrations))
At the risk of repreating myself for the upteenth time: I fucking love punk rock in all its DIY glory. Those people with their Britpunk arrogance or mohawk stereotypes can continue to whine and moan all you want, but I know that the culture I dig is still squirming and struggling to breathe out there, no matter how hard the media culture works to quash it.

How do I know this? Because last Friday I had the great pleasure to play at a dive club called Thermo's and one of the opening bands was from mainland China. That's right kids, China. Land of the tanks, the little red books, and the weird collerless jackets. Their name was Reflector and they played some of the prettiest punk rock (ska tinged, no less) I've heard in a long time. Aside from that, I haven't seen a band jump around that much since, uh...why This Side Up, or early Green Day (no, REALLY EARLY Green Day, not Dookie-era, you silly kids) and truly they were vibing the whole happy-to-be-rocking thing, and it was a treat to witness.

You know where I'm going with this, I trust. The thing I dug most about it was seeing a band from so far away, where punk rock is still dangerous (to a certain degree). On top of that, they are doing the classic DIY tour of a foreign country, and you gotta know how much that warms my heart. Watching them play knowing how it feels to be a small band playing in a different country on that level, where all you bring is your guitars and drum bits, borrowing backlines at each show, staying with people you meet or the promoters, all of that trauma and joy - it just was a really great affirmation of why I continue to do this stuff. How great is it that kids from China are giving it a whirl too? That, and let me say again, just in the hope that it sticks with someone: that's what it's about for me, people making music that they like for themselves, and then sharing it with the rest of the world. Risking rejection, ridicule and apathy, but possibly gaining the amazing sense of accomplishment.

Recently, while doing a little surfing to see what was out on the web about the Boys from Bejiing, I ran into a completely dismissive article about a New Year's show they played. The author was the classic wanker - pretentious asshole who seems to think that American punk rock is not only inferior to British punk rock (only proving his total ignorance of the counterculture to begin with), but that it's a waste of time for the Chinese youth to emulate and make this horrific noise that he can barely even deem "music". It's that very mindset, that fucking prog-rock arrogance, that Steve Vai-monkey-on-the-back attitude that is why punk rock exists. I'm not going to entertain the whole breakdown of the scene, or the selling out that has happened, I only want to point out that the true gift of playing punk rock is the sense of empowerment it gives one. Music is something everyone should be allowed to enjoy. It shouldn't be a rarified existance. i feel even more strongly about this now than ever before, as I work to become a better musician, I am forever thankful that I was allowed to participate in the first place. It would be hard to jump in and simply start playing the blues, or jazz, or even that wacky prog-rock. I don't deny that music is an exsquisite art form, and there are definitely virtuosos. However, it's also a physical sensation, an aural pleasure that is fairly basic. And if only one person starts in a punk rock band and discovers their love for music, or any other mode of expression, then it has done its job. The legions of wankers and posers will come and go anyway. But punk rock allows for a ground level to start at that in my mind is unsurpassed. Or something like that.

Anyway. The Reflector guys were cool cats, and chatting with them after (I was thrilled that they were able to speak english so well - I remember how frustrating it was to be unable to talk to people after many european shows because in typical American fashion, we only spoke english) I just got such a sense of their commitment to what they were doing. It was, in a word: rad. I didn't talk politics with them - it didn't occur to me, weirdly enough. When they took the stage, they yelped "We're Reflector and we're from China - but we're not communist" and then proceeded to shred their set beautifully.

Mid-way through their set I was ready to put out a record for them, I thought they rocked that much. they have already accepted an offer from another band to put out their stuff, so I won't be doing that, but it's good to know there will be something available down the road.

Sometimes when the third band on a bill cancels, it turns out good.