Pabco Daytime Video

    

     I can’t believe I haven’t shared this clip yet.  I think I decided not to post it on youtube because it shows certain individuals getting prepared to smoke "the weed."  People can be real sensitive about airing shit like that in a public forum especially if they got kids or if they got a “straight” job.  I don’t wanna get anyone busted so I’m guessing that’s why I’ve kept it off the shelf.  It’s currently unlisted on youtube and the only way you can you see it is through the link posted below.

    This vid is a real curiosity piece.  This was the Spazz/Catapult/Dwarf Bitch/Lopez/Fatty Lumpkin show.  But don’t let that fool you there isn’t much music in this clip.  It’s mostly a document of the Pabco party spot right before the show.  It was a wild night.  Somehow a bunch of us got there during the day right before sunset.  Since there's so many people hangin out in the daytime I have to assume it wasn’t full blown Summer just yet.

    Every other “desert show” video I shot was at night.  It's pretty fuckin cool to see the place all lit up.  Before we got all lit up.  It’s a great spot with a long strange history most of which I can only guess at.  Pabco didn’t have the drama of the Rainbow Caves or the urban aesthetic of the Lossee road ditch (the Tubes) but it did have rugged charm.  Who knows maybe there’s a show out there tonight?  A freeway overpass was built over Losee road in North town so there'll never be another show at that spot again but I’ve heard rumors about recent shows at the Caves.

    A tiny sliver of music is in this clip as well.  Dwarf Bitch and Catapult rocks out for a few minutes but the camera mainly stays focused on the crowd and the environment making the music more of a soundtrack rather than the main event. If you want to see more clips from this night go to youtube and lookup Pabco, Spazz, Fatty Lumpkin, or y’know some shit like that.  You’re a grown person you’ll figure it out.

Download Pabco Daytime video here.

Letter from Ryland

     I had a dream about Ryland Luss a few weeks ago.  This morning I found this letter Ryland sent me in May 1998.  It's the last correspondence I ever got from him.  I was in a band at the time and I believe he offered me these lyrics for songs we were writing.  

   Ryland Luss was a close friend of mine.  I became friends with him going to Eldorado High.  The funny thing is I remember meeting him years before at Quanna McCall 6th Grad center in North town.  I was sheltered growing up as an Air Force brat.  My family lived in housing on base and my brother and I went to school on base.

    Three blocks from Las Vegas Boulevard the 6th Sixth Grade Center was an attempt to "integrate" schools in the early 80's.  That concept isn't in play anymore I guess integration isn't all that important anymore in Vegas, or anywhere in America for that matter.  Quanna McCall is now just a regular elementary school.  Growing up this school was definitely my first experience with real public education.  I saw Ryland on the playground several times and he shocked me by being the first kid my age to openly cuss out loud.  Repeatedly.  Even around teachers.  I wouldn't get the balls to cuss out loud myself until I made it to Dell H Robison Jr. High.  

    In High School Ryland became a close friend.  He regularly smoked me out at lunch.  He let me borrow his punk records.  He pushed some guy off a Spree motor scooter and into the street when he tried to park on my parent's front lawn.  He had the MDC Chicken Squak record.  At one time he got his Dead Kennedys Kill the Poor record taken away from him at school because it was "questionable."  He was a hell of a guy.  He gave me lots of shit for free and never asked for more than friendship in return.  Demo tapes, t-shirts, even records on occasion.  We did our fair share of record trading and taping.  I got super pissed one time when he borrowed my Geto Boys CD without asking and then returned it to me broken in half without explanation.  He was funny.  And not at all shy.  He was the guy who most often told me about parties or shows that were happening.  He was my lifeline to the "scene" because I guess I've always been anti-social.  Fuck you.

     Ryland was also a close friend to my brother.  He once put chalk in his afro so he could go buy beer for Mark and his skate buddies.  That's all it took to make him look old.  Can't believe what a pain in the ass it was to get people to buy us beer when we were under age.  Thank god I'm an old man now.  

  

     Really he was close to my whole family.  He constantly hung out at our house on Linn Lane just about every day when we lived on the East Side.  One time I came home and Ryland was the only person in the house sitting in my bedroom listening to that Big Rig 7" playing Sega.  It didn't faze us.  He was a member of the family.

    He fancied himself as a lyricist.  He was hugely inspired by the lyrics of Operation Ivy and Crimpshrine.  I don't think he ever got to their level.  I can't critique his stuff because I just don't care for poetry.  I think a lot of his work was fragmented but he wrote some interesting shit.  Things that are worth remembering because he was such a great person.  Maybe a little lost, confused, and alone, but he was always true.  It was never fake.  I'm glad he worked as hard as he did on his writing.  It's something I might have taken for granted back then but it's still something I relate to.  Some of it was dead on.  The fact that he did it so often was inspiring.  I wanted to have his work ethic but I couldn't keep it together then.  It's still be a struggle to stay motivated.   I wonder how happy he was to have some of his lyrics finally set to music and recorded by Dwarf Bitch. (Specifically the song What Now?)         

     Things were way simpler.  Not that things have changed so much but life has become more complicated.  Me and my friends didn't do things much different from anyone else who lived in Vegas.  We worked.  We got wasted.  We tried meeting girls.  We mourned the music that died and celebrated whatever shit seemed real at the time.  Ryland never strayed too far from that Bay Area punk shit.  He loved hip hop and gave that style as much love as any of us did back then but he would always return to his "roots."

        We pissed a lot of years away.  When my family eventually moved I remember thinking how sad it was that I wouldn't be seeing Ryland every day like I had been.  We didn't talk about it a lot at the time but I recall my mom thinking out loud "What's Ryland gonna do without us?"  

       We were all fucked up trying to deal with our own issues and it never occurred to us that Ryland might actually have real mental issues.  The last time I saw him he got really drunk at a house party.  I hadn't seen him in months and it was really bad.  I heard people talking about the fact that he had to take medicine now, that he was diagnosed as a Schizophrenic.  He never said that to me.  I don't know who told me that.     

      I still don't know the truth about what happened to Ryland.  His family moved to the West Side.  It must have been like another country to him.  The story is he went out into the desert and died from exposure.  I also heard he died while sitting in a ditch.  Waiting for something.  Waiting for us to show up?  Wow, that really hurt to write that.  Every now and then I have a dream about him.  In those dreams everyone's hanging out.  We're partying.  Listening to Crimpshrine.  Or Fifteen.  Smoking bunk ass weed.  Smokin cigs.  Waiting for something to happen.    

T.P.U. demo and 7"

      I chanced upon this blog purported to highlight the Arizona hardcore punk scene.  I recommend giving it a look see. I found the Plain Wrap record there which was a phenomenal score.  Upon further inspection I found this T.P.U. 7" and the T.P.U. demo available to download which came as a real surprise.  The closer I look the more I see this blog isn't isolated to just Arizona music.  It's cool.  Their heart's in the right place.

      I have a vague recollection of T.P.U. and it mostly centers on the Hardcore show which aired on 91.5 KUNV in the late 80's.  I recorded this record off the radio and I guess I listened to it more than I thought as these songs were instantly recognizable.  

      Even as a teenager I remember thinking the lyrics were retarded.  Still it holds together at least as much the other dumb ass bands featured on this blog.  They lose points for the Skrewdriver shirt and white headband the bass player's wearing but they make up for it by prominently featuring the water heater in the background of the cover photo.

      I'm limited in what I can add here.  I knew of Amoeba, the guy with the Skrewdriver shirt, from hanging around the drinkin/druggin punk scene back then.  But I only knew him on the surface much like the rest of the scene I was hanging around.  If I wasn't drunk, stoned, or wacked out on acid or pcp  I was actively trying to score those drugs so I  have a hard time remembering names.  I don't know the other people in this band.  Or maybe I do?  The End.  

     Couldn't tell you what T.P.U. stands for and I don't think I ever saw them play live although I might've been trippin while they were playing right in front of me.  

     Lyrically I thought they were dopes but hindsight makes the delivery of most if not all these songs seem tongue in cheek.  Although maybe they really are idiots?  The music is infectious and it really puts me back to when I was stupider and eaily amused although not so easily lead astray.  I first heard these songs at a time when I was desperate to hear punk music of any flavor.  I was eagar to lap up anything that could be construed as punk at that time as it wasn't the easiest thing to find.  Turns out I played the recording of this 7"over and over again even if it was ridiculously stupid.  Sample lyric: "It's the best feeling you can ever get/ kickin peoples asses and gettin away with it/ ha ha ha ha! Anarchy!"

     That's some retarded bullshit right there but you can dance to it which was enough for me, for a little while anyway.  Back then I thought the song Desert Party was called Stag Party which made me think it was the dumbest macho song I'd ever heard in my life.  It still comes across as Frat Rock but now that I know what the real title is I feel a little more connected to it.  I hear a slight English punk influence here.  Lot's of buzzsaw guitars ala GBH/Vice Squad/Varukers or any of that spikey punk and disorderly shit that came out of the UK in the early 80's.  Yep I had punk hair.  I dyed it black.  I smoked.  

    The record has a lot of personality.  I'm seriously diggin it.  Obnoxious punk crap that was a precursor in some ways to the snotty sound FYP was throwing down in the mid 90's.  Shit, I almost hear a little Celtic Frost or Hellhammer sound in there as well but it's probably just them buzzsaw guitars making me think that way because no one would mistake this for Metal.  Reminds me a little bit of the band Filth who were gigging in the East Bay around the same time or even Grimple who would be coming down the pike a few years later.  I'm not saying T.P.U. was as good as the above mentioned bands but if you're at all familiar with any of the names mentioned above then you'll probably like this record.  The jokes about Reagan make this a must have for 80's Hardcore purists.  If such a thing exists.      

     The record came out in 1988, and seriously?  Only 100 copies pressed?  That seems like a waste but maybe records were cheaper to press back then?  I saw this record for sale at the Underground and didn't buy a copy because I knew I had it recorded on tape at home.  I won that round!  Released by Chapter III Records in Arizona in 1988.  At that time I was a junior at Eldorado High School.  I lived across the street from the entrance to EHS at 1114 Linn Lane.  My front lawn was the smoking section.  That was a lifetime ago.  

     I'm glad I stumbled onto this little hardcore side note.  I didn't think I was as much of a fan as I am.  Go figure.  It's still dumber than dirt.  But hey- all we had back then was dirt.   

     Learn more from the AZ blog, it's worth checking out, plus you can find out more about Plain Wrap who are keeping me in stitches these days now that I found their whole record.  The T.P.U. demo is included in the download as well.  The links below are to download direct from that blog.  If it doesn't work for you let me know I'll try and upload the files I got.  

Download T.P.U. Noise 7"
Download T.P.U Demo tape

From the horse's mouth T.P.U.'s myspace page.

Rock Avenue

          I’ve come damn close to starting a new project to make a KUNV Rock Avenue music mix but I've held back because it reminds me of the time I was tempted to write a book about the differences between Punk and Metal.  It occurred to me that someone’s gonna write that book eventually so why not wait for them to do it so I can just enjoy reading it without the years of hard work that would go into making such a book.

            Within two years of having that idea this punk/metal book did come out just like I figured and I had the pleasure of kickin back and reading it with a critical eye.  I'm glad to know the future of academia will eventually be dumbed down to the point of where it's the kinda shit people have talked about in bars for years.

         Maybe someday I’ll make that mix.  I mean if I wait for someone else to do it they won’t do it to my satisfaction anyway.  Right?

            In case you’re out of the loop I should mention the Rock Avenue was a program on the college radio station broadcasting in Las Vegas, NV that ran from the mid 80’s through most of the 90’s.   It happened from the late afternoon until about midnight when they would switch to specialty shows like the Hardcore, Metal, or Hip Hop.  Pre-internet this was the only way Las Vegas could learn about the dynamic world of music happening outside the valley.  I think the Rock Avenue is partially responsible for my obsession with hearing new music several times a week. 

           It’s astounding how important a lifeline the Rock Avenue was for those of us who needed that music fix.  It was a huge world of art, culture, politics, ideas and emotion that played out like friends sharing secrets on the phone.  If you were clued in enough to dial in you could discover lost continents of pop that no one else could ever believe.  While the world around me droned on with their Night Ranger or Duran Duran I could stumble into the violent melody of Husker Du or the psychodelic mindfuck of Sonic Youth.  I was a huge fan of Iron Maiden, still am, but this was around the time Seventh Son of A Seventh Son came out and that shit sucked.  I was trying to figure out what the fuck punk was about in 1986 and it was being roasted every night alongside the alien sounds of Echo and the Bunnymen, Eric B and Rakim, Lords of the New Church, New Order, the Cult and many more I'll never be able to remember.  It was unchartered territory and it couldn’t have been more welcome.     

          There weren’t a whole lot of outlets back then.  We received music and culture like a hamster sipping at an upside down water bottle in a cage of mundane bullshit.  It was a trickle and I absorbed it and worshipped any of it I could cram into my psyche.   It was an antidote to mediocrity which seemed to get more and more prevalent and even poisonous as I got older.  It was precious and rare because I had to work to find it.    Not like it was all gold but when I’d capture it on tape I could spend hours pouring over it to find the sounds that really spoke to me. 

           Probably the best part was the complete lack of regard for genre that some DJ’s would have.  It was cutting edge to hear hip hop tracks being played alongside guitar rock followed closely by synth pop.  But the Rock Avenue was rarely limited to just those types of music.  All sorts of strange hybrids of music seemed to swirl around the Rock Avenue playlist and you could never tell what was coming next.  The eclectic nature of Rock Avenue was ballsy and sometimes challenging to me.  No commercial radio station would dare to pull such stunts.  Ironically enough the other bullshit radio stations in town would eventually follow KUNV's lead.  There were tiny hints that the Rock Avenue would and could change the cultural landscape.  As timid as it seems today it was a real coup to hear West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys on 98.5 KLUC after it was completely played out of KUNV for well over a year.  

          Today it’s at our fingertips at the press of an ibutton and I couldn’t be happier but there’s no denying we lose something without the human element.   I have access to every obscurity ever conceived and I’ve got a steady stream of music that can go on into infinity so long as I've got the hard drive space.  What was once a trickle is now a raging river of music in which I can drown.  It’s a mixed blessing.  Technology has democratized the music industry but it’s also cheapened that exhilarating moment of discovery now that it's everywhere all at once.  What was once precious and rare has now been multiplied a million fold.  It's not nearly as big a treasure as it was when it was just a kid staying up late with a tape deck and a radio signal.  

          Perhaps the most important aspect of KUNV was the fact that it was broadcast to the whole community.  So everyone was plugged into the same signal.  It gave a focus to the community and made me feel connected with the community.  Even if I was mostly just listening for the announcement of upcoming shows.  Now that there is a unending horizon of niche outlets for every musical taste there is no longer a central meeting place where the community can all meet up to hear the same message.  It's remarkable how powerful that central meet up spot tends to be huh?  Then again that's always been a problem with Vegas.  A problem that may never be resolved?     

        I'll never bitch about having access to a huge gaping world of musical shit like I do now.  I never want to go back to the tiny umbilical cord that KUNV represented but I’m glad I was able to live in a time when those cassette tapes recorded off the airwaves were the whole world to me.  It was a special moment in my life that I will always treasure.  I always loved Iron Maiden and Judas Priest, still do, but man does not live on bread alone.  

       I think my idea for a Rock Avenue mix would still be very guitar heavy.  I can't believe how hooked I am on that shitty 80's production style!  Reverb that goes on for days.  Drums recorded in a pit three miles away from the rest of the band.  It's good shit.  I'm still discovering all the wacky 80's bands who were trying to amp up that 60's sound.  I love bands from the 80's who ripped off the Byrds!   


       I still dig the hip hop from that time period as well.   Hip hop was still finding out what it was as a genre.  When it finally solidified it became a turd in many regards but that early experimental sound is still exciting to me now.  Those experiments that keep me on edge.  Shit that tries to be different with no regard for convention.  I know it when I hear it.  And I heard it first on the Avenue.  

           

        I tried reaching out to people on Facebook looking for old cassettes from that time period.  It’s been a fruitless endeavor and I don’t see much promise on the horizon.  I was looking mainly for station ID’s, the Rock Calendar, or other local announcements.  I was thinking it would be a fun project to add those elements to the mix.  I still think it'd be fun I'm just hoping someone else will do it.  Or maybe I should just get Pandora?  

       Here's a present for those of you who might've appreciated and loved the Rock Avenue as much as I did.  

You will be very glad you clicked here.