Thursday, March 14, 2013

3.10.13

On March 10th I listened to Rage Against The Machine Rage Against The Machine, Catherine Wheel Chrome, and IAMDYNAMITE SUPERMEGAFANTASTIC.


The first time I heard this album I was on acid. It wasn't until the 4th of July, 1993! A full eight months after the album’s release! 

For the life of me I can’t remember why I was so late on this record! I was working for a college radio station and did nothing but listen to new cool stuff all the time! Shit just slips through the cracks sometimes, I guess. In that time period there were great albums coming from everywhere and I remember hearing all about Rage, just not listening to them.

So, I’m tripping balls at a 4th of July house party that is so lame the host left to go to another party. “Just don’t fuck up my parent’s house,” he said as he took off with my pack of cigarettes. It was me, Roundboy, Roundboy’s girlfriend, four or five of Roundboy’s dickhead friends from high school and a couple of randoms. If I remember correctly everyone had dropped.

The whole party was outside by the pool being obnoxious and I was sitting in the kitchen watching the cabinets melt and talking to the coffee pot about the pros and cons of me driving to the store for smokes.

They threw Rage Against The Machine into the CD player and got all kinds of fired up. As I was listening from the kitchen, I remember thinking that this must be that Rage Against The Machine band I had been hearing about and boy is it freaking great!

Dickhead #1 walked into the house to piss or punch a wall and as he walked by I asked him what they were listening to outside. He gave me this fucking look and said, “what did you just say?” It was like I just came on his mom's tits after I made her crawl down the hallway to the bedroom. (Check out the season finale of Girls on HBO this Sunday night!) “What are you listening to out there?” I repeated. “It’s fucking Rage,” he replies, stands in place, glares at me for a moment and then staggers out the door... never taking his eyes off me. About a minute goes by when Roundboy walks into the kitchen and asks me in a very concerned tone what I said to Dickhead #1.

I still have a headache from the level and severity of the eye roll I achieved at this question. Dickhead #1 went outside and told Roundboy that I was in the kitchen "starting shit." I got up, grabbed my keys and left for a cigarette run. 

I ended up at a local super market and wandered the aisles for about a half an hour. When I left, I had two packs of smokes and a box of Lucky Charms. Seemed like the perfect snack.

When I got pulled over, I had a lit cigarette in my hand, a lit cigarette in the ashtray, a head full of acid, and a mouthful of me Lucky Charms. (Hunter S. would have been proud of me.) I was driving on the shoulder of the road with my hazards on at about twenty miles an hour and Officer Friendly just wanted to say, “sup?” I told the cop that my alternator had a loose connection and if I went too fast the car would stall out. I don't even know if that's a thing and I have no idea where it came from, but who says drugs don't spark creativity? He asked me when I was getting it fixed and I told him my Uncle was going to help me with it in the morning. “All right, but keep this car off the road until you fix it,” he said and was off into the night. 

I was pretty pumped at the aspect of getting to go back to the party and not to jail. I didn't even mind having to party with a bunch of dickheads. When I entered the house, the party had vanished. Nobody was around. I looked out by the pool, all around the downstairs and called up to anybody that was upstairs. What happened next is burned into the back of eyeballs. 

I opened a door to one of the bedrooms and there was Roundboy and his girlfriend humping. Roundboy’s belly was oozing all over hers. Oh, the flesh! Her small yet saggy boobs flopping around, legs spread, she looked at me as Roundboy pumped away, and the whole scene was amplified by the fact they were on a tiny single bed. Roundboy never looked or broke stride. There was a definite smell and the room had a high level of humidity. They had reached their dew point, that's for sure. This all happened in about 3 seconds, twenty years ago, and I still see it like it was yesterday. No amount of internet porn can wash that image away. 

I went down to the pool to smoke and drink, alone. As I cracked a beer, Dickhead #1 and Dickhead #2 hopped over the back fence to rejoin the party that wasn't. They had also embarked on a cigarette run, but on foot. At some point I drove passed them and as they tried to flag me down, they claim I gave them the finger. All I remember was saying something like “yeah, that sounds like me." It was at this point I accepted the fact that I was gonna get jumped by these two dickheads. Push was just about to become shove when Roundboy burst out of the house, wearing only a sheet and started half yelling at me for busting in on his bang session. 

Dickhead #1 and #2 found this development hysterical and somehow we bonded over the whole affair. Weird, right?

We sat out by the pool, drinking, smoking, tripping, and listening to this album until the host’s parents came home at eight o’clock the next morning. Oddly enough, he was pulled over for drunk driving and was in jail. What an irresponsible dickhead!

This album is what happens when the planets align and God smiles on you. Do you know how many bands tried to make this record before and after Rage did? But, they didn't have Tom Morello and Zack de la Rocha. Pure, honest, earnest, and raw this album still resonates and will continue to do so.

I love every second of Rage Against The Machine, but one moment has stuck with me through the years and still has as much meaning today as it ever did. The end of “Know Your Enemy.” Do you know it?

“Yes I know my enemies. They’re the teachers who taught me to fight me. Compromise. Conformity. Assimilation. Submission. Ignorance. Hypocrisy. Brutality. The elite. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams. All of which are American dreams.”

And then "Wake Up" kicks in and I think about Neo making his phone call at the end of The Matrix. “I didn’t come here to tell you how this is going to end. I came here to tell you how it’s going to begin.”

Fuckin’ A!


I interviewed Rob Dickinson, Catherine Wheel’s singer, on the radio in Buffalo, NY once. I asked him about his cousin Bruce from Iron Maiden and he was total cock about it. I love two songs on this album, “Crank” and “Show Me Mary.” I love about enough Catherine Wheel songs total to make one really great album. The rest is a bunch of turds.

Think about that next time you’re in a blue collar town where Iron Maiden ruled the 80’s, 90% of the audience listening owned a Maiden t-shirt, nobody knows who the fuck you are, and the DJ that is interviewing you, a fan, is just trying to make you relevant, asswipe!

And if you’re going to play a festival show with Tanya Donelly, who just sang a song on your most current album, why not wow the crowd by taking the 10 minutes to figure it out with her and play it live? Lazy? Apathetic? Asshole? All three? “Judy Staring At The Sun?” You’re Judy and the sun is my asshole! Pfffffffft!

Sorry, that’s been pissing me off since I ran into Rob in NYC twice two nights in a row in 2002 and he was an even bigger cock to me. But I’ll save that story for another time. I don’t hate Catherine Wheel, I just don’t care for Rob much.


This album moved me! I love this kid singing. He’s goofy and likeable. He’s got hooks coming out his asshole and I hope he’s the real deal because I want to hear more stuff from IAMDYNAMITE.

I guess Local H is your obvious comparison because IAMDYNAMITE is just two dudes. The sound is a bit sparse at times, but the kid’s voice can carry a whole song if it needs to. Hahaha, I just looked up his name… Christopher Martin. Chris Martin? I’m sorry kid, but keep it up! You too Chris Phillips, the drummer.

“Where Will We Go,” is the perfect introduction to these guys and each track on this album has a little something to give. I LOVE that.

I gotta go, I bullshitted too much in this post.


Tomorrow is Dinosaur Jr. day! Check out my whole March Playlist!



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