JULY 2004 Live Reviews (scroll down to read all of them)

AUDIO KARATE
DOGWOOD
DYNAMITE BOY
MISERARE
April 12, 2004 @ the Glass House (Pomona, CA)
By Mabel Lam

    Strolling into the Glass House at 7:30 was juuuust the right time, not too early to have to sit outside in line on the cold, concrete floor, and not too late to have to wiggle my way into a crowd during the second band. This likeliness to Goldilocks's porridge made me all too hungry. Small groups of kids were still idly floating around chatting comfortably with each other. This sense of ease and familiarity not usually seen in huge, sold-out shows probably stems from the fact that both Miserare and Audio Karate's roots are in the local L.A. area (be it Rosemead, Whittier, or Montebello). Cries of recognition abound, bear hugs left and right. Ah, yes. Bears. I needed some food, quick. After braving the 10 freeway with my friend, I would say that the food would be well-deserved. One of my favorite things to do while I'm down at the Glass House is head down to the Mexican restaurant at the corner of the block. Seriously. Do your stomach a favor, (though I can't speak for your bowels if you O.D. on beans) and order yourself a shrimp taco and rice the next time you're down at the Glass House.

    Now in a slightly more cheerful mood, we made our way back. It wasn't long before Miserare (formerly Seraphin) jumped right into their set. Their gratitude and support for the upcoming bands was apparent, since frontman Gilbert Romero was sporting an Audio Karate shirt and guitarist Albert Martinez a Dynamite Boy shirt. For five lanky guys, they sure can muster up a lot of power. What appealed to me most of all was how deeply immersed they all were into their own music. No cheesy gimmicks here. Romero had his eyes shut as he into each song, luring in the crowd with delicate melodies, and then bursting into fervent cries.

    After a rather speedy stage set-up, Dynamite Boy seized the stage and all attention within the entire room. Lead singer and guitarist Sean "Dynamite" didn't just request that the audience fill in the gaps, he demanded it. However, two or three songs into their set, a gaping mosh pit opened up right in the heart of the floor, and the kids threw themselves into the center of the frenzy. Keeping the rapid pace alive, they urged all to chant "OI!" leading up to a cover of AC/DC. I initially thought them to be pop-punk, but then I changed my mind and decided they were pop/rock. But that didn't feel right either. Then, a little window popped up in my head: punk rock? Could it be? I've been so jaded by the "punk rock" scene that I haven't spoken it in forever...but yes, they do indeed encompass what should define punk rock nowadays. Their energy came pouring out in torrents through the amps, through the vocal chords, through their sweat beads flying down on the masses. Lovely.

    Now that the crowd had warmed up, they thirsted for more excitement. This feeling grew when the stage suddenly went pitch-black. Silence fell as a booming voice introduced Dogwood in the manner of a roller-coast ride at Disneyland. Not letting the audience down, Dogwood adequately catered to their need for more action, to say the least. Kids sang along enthusiastically, bouncing around to the beats. I, on the other hand, wasn't too particularly taken by them. Their drummer looked like a chubbier version of my ex, and that alone was enough of a distraction. But majority wins, right? My conclusion on Dogwood: lovely.

    With the heat rising into the air and the buzzing of the impatient masses, when Audio Karate strode out, everything built up from the night was let loose. Your average, inhibited high-school girlies screamed out sexual propositions to guitarist Jason Camacho. There was a pogoing circle pit, a mosh pit, but, ironically enough, no karate dancing! If they weren't celebrating their latest release, LADY MELODY, with songs such as "Jesus Is Alive", "Hey Maria", and "Catch and Release", they were bringing back old familiar favorites off of SPACE CAMP like "Rosemead", "Car Ride Home", and "Jason". Appropriately, for many graduating seniors (such as myself), they just about concluded the night with "Senior Year ", satisfying all with their surge of pop-punk.

NARCOLEPTIC YOUTH
46 SHORT
THE DISTRACTION
LAB RATS
FINAL SOLUTION
April 24, 2004 @ the Showcase Theatre (Corona, CA)
By Marcus Solomon

    I have learned to embrace the headache created by Narcoleptic Youth. It was loud, raucous, silly rock 'n' roll infused with a subtle sense of irony and insight, but "Is this punk? / I don't know / Why don't you tell me?"
The show was off to a solid start with local boys Final Solution. A couple of local punk kids made it very clear that I was to pay close attention to this band, as it is one of the few decent ones from the Rancho Cucamonga area. This youthful trio pumped out some fine punk tunes that rather impressed me. Final Solution's sound is reminiscent of rough and tough early '80s British punk, but thankfully without the false accent that pollutes so many bands that play this type of music. My only criticism is that the songs all started to sound alike after a few numbers, but this problem will most likely be eliminated as the band members continue to aspire to their clearly-evident potential. The venue was packed from start to finish, and Final Solution clearly pleased the crowd.

    Lab Rats then made its way to the stage and quickly drove me outside with its sloppy, trebly version of leather-glam-metal-thrashcore. It is always annoying for a band to take the stage and then waste time by taking WAY TOO LONG TO TUNE UP, and when the music finally began, I wondered, "Why bother tuning the instrument at all if that's how you are going to play?" The bass was so muddy that it just sounded like a constant reverberation without distinctive notes. The lead guitar was so high-pitched and sloppy that I cringed with pain. I refuse to comment on the vocals. I quickly escaped outside. The kids continued to slam, making me wonder if they really liked the band or if they just wanted to slam to something loud and fast.

    I was outside interviewing 46 Short's guitarist during most of The Distraction's set. How appropriate! I did hear two songs upon re-entry to the club, and I liked what I heard. However, my buddy Jeremy came running up and said, "This band sucks! The lead singer punched my friend in the face!" I asked what happened and discovered that the vocalist thought one big guy was picking on a little guy, but he was unaware that they were friends just goofing around. He was trying to be a bit of a hero, but his friendly fire was unwarranted. But none of that had anything to do with the band's music. The Distractions reminded me a bit of The Briefs, but more with more traditional rock influence. The standout number was a cover of Link Wray's wild, feedback-infused, 1963 instrumental hit "Jack the Ripper". This tune may be 41 years old, but it still stands up strongly even in the midst of a wild punk show.

    The evening really took off when 46 Short took over. Tight and intense, this band really brings the old-school sound of early-'80s punk rock into the present. Stop-start stop-start-stop…CHARGE! The kids started to line the margins of the stage on the front and both sides while steadily absorbing the enormous energy generated by the music. Soon, the immediate stage area was packed with fist-pumping punk kids who shouted every lyric—except, of course, for the songs from the new LP, JUST A LIABILITY. The surprising message in this album is the band's support of gun control. Hmmm. No wonder vocalist Jermey Jones always belts it out with such passionate sincerity: he believes in something and wants you to know it.

    While anticipating the arrival of Narcoleptic Youth, we were treated to the atmospheric soundtrack to THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY. Vocalist Joey Bondage and crew then appeared within the swirling cloud of fragrant whiteness emanating from the smoke machine. The band was dressed in comical cowboy garb, complete with matching spray-painted neon pink cowboy hats, pink feather boas, and bandana masks. Joey was wearing a Lone Ranger mask and messy black lipstick and sloppy black Xs over his eyes. Now, the stage area was packed with anxious Narc fans. The set began with a banging crowd-favorite "Raw Nerve", and the place went wild. Kids were slamming all over the place, while multitudes of stage-divers reminded me of the (fictional) yearly lemming mass suicide. Narcoleptic Youth has a very strong Inland Empire following, thus allowing the band to lead masses of impressionable punk kids to take the exhilarating leap from the stage onto the heads of other jubilant concert-goers. At times the entire stage area was swarmed with multitudes of fans to the point where only drummer Johnny Cat Litter was visible. In a previous show review, I wrote that the sloppy playing of this group drove me outside, but this performance definitely won me over. The musicianship was tight, and the mood was intensely zany. Capping off my conversion to the Narc fan base was the excellent cover of my favorite song from The Damned, "Ignite!". Narc played one well-deserved encore and ended the evening with the ever-popular "Is This Punk? Thank you, Joey and crew, it was a fantastic time. www.narcolepticyouth.com

Snow Patrol
Carina Round
May 8, 2004 @ Epicentre (Mira Mesa, CA)
By Beth VanBoxtel

    There aren't many all-ages shows in San Diego, CA, that consist of a crowd between the ages of 25 and 40. As my younger friend and I approached the venue, we couldn't help but notice the prominent tour bus consuming half of the venue's parking lot. An MTV2 crew was on hand at the venue to pass out stickers and information on their Advance Warning show. This show was the final one on the lengthy national tour, and the bands were prepared to put everything on the line and play a very relaxed show.

    In the wake of PJ Harvey and other female solo artists making a name for them this year, Carina Round is emerging into the scene as being a solid, driven female artist with a power-packed band behind her. Her latest release, THE DISCONNECTION, came out on Interscope Records in the United States merely a few months ago. As she took the stage, the band jazzed fellow onlookers with fast-paced, straightforward metallic rock. Mangy guitars, pulsating drums, jazzy cymbal rides, and a thumping stand-up bass accompanied heartfelt, sexy, distraught, soulful vocals, creating a winning formula. The band pulled through an acoustic version of her song "Goldfish" that was pleasing on the ears. Throughout the set, Carina hit some very high-pitched notes that were dead on. The music was so classy that it left me feeling very satisfied with the entire performance. Look for Carina Round on the Lollapalooza Tour this summer, and visit her Website at .

    Supporting their latest release, FINAL STRAW, Snow Patrol (from Ireland) had drawn much attention prior to this tour. Although this was a two-band lineup, the show was packed with people by the time Snow Patrol came out with a dramatic opening that included a drum solo and a dim array of lights cast down on the stage. Staying true to their Irish roots, the four guys brought their choice of alcohol with them. Staggering around, the band played carefully to stay tight. Laced with complicated intros to each song, this dashing young band appealed to all with their danceable, rocking-out style. The smooth sound mirrored that of Pete Yorn, with slight overtones of Interpol, and at times they were even as loose as Ben Kweller. Snow Patrol stood out with their original and conceptual melodies, flawless guitar riffs, and consistent and beautiful vocals that varied with each song. The keyboardist played on top of all these elements without being overbearing on the rest of the sound. The drummer (formerly with Belle & Sebastian) pounded out each fill with incomparable ability. Their ravishing set included such hits as "Spitting Games", "Ride Off", and "Never Break Your Sleep".

VOID CONTROL
May 20, 2004 @ King's Club (Centereach, NY)
By Janelle Jones

    As the late Joey Ramone would say in "Beat on the Brat": "What can you do?" The turnout for the show at King's Club featuring punk-rock royals D.O.A. and The Dickies was alarmingly sparse. I must, however, give credit where credit's due: the meager amount of people who were there gave everything they had! The circle pits forming during D.O.A.'s set were viciousbut all in good fun, as most people in attendance did know each other. Hey, perhaps the measly crowd was due to the fact that on the same night at The Downtown (what I can only imagine to be an exorbitantly-priced show...though this King's Club gig was a bit pricey, as well), The Misfits (er, The Misfit?) played (now, don't get me wrong: the original line-up of this band is one of the brightest beacons of earlyhell, ALLAmerican punk, but come on! Enough's enough). Or perchance there just aren't that many hard-core punk fans who care anymore here on Long Island. OR, maybe most people who wanted to catch D.O.A. on their remarkable 25th Anniversary Tour caught the threesome at the absolutely stellar show the previous Monday at the Knitting Factory (though I did spot some awesome diehards at both showsyou know who you are!). Yes, Monday's showfeaturing the great MDC (!) and NYC's finest, New York Rel-Xwas quite an event. I hadn't been to a show that fun in a whileand I chalk most of the excitement felt to headliners D.O.A., who performed an immaculate and gloriously long set. Good god, were they tight!

    Anyway, before I go off on any more tangents, D.O.A. played a wonderful set at King's Club, as well, though not as long, lacking the wonderful "America the Beautiful.î No, I jest. They played tons of songs, old and new. First, though, a brief description of the band that preceded Canada's finest punk icons is in order. Arriving late and missing the first two bands (who I can only imagine played to maybe 10 people), the first impression of the night for me was Void Control, a young punk band who are traveling around the East Coast with D.O.A. (D.O.A.'s West Coast leg took place in March and April). Missing them on Monday, it was interesting to see what Void Control were about. Regrettably, the sound was brutal on the ears. Too achingly loud, too little basswhich only meant one thing: not good. I noticed more than a couple people sticking toilet paper orget this ingenious little trickcigarette filters in their ears to block out some of the guitar noise. Other than some nondescript originals, the four-piece belted out some cool covers of early greatsnamely, the godly D.I.'s "Guns" and Circle Jerks' sardonic "World up My Ass."

    After a rather lengthy wait while D.O.A. set up, the crowd quickly moved up front in anticipation of the legendary Canadian band, which now consists of original member and man who keeps the band alive, vocalist/guitarist Joey Shithead Keithley, drummer the Great Baldini, and newest recruit and bassist Damned Dan Yaremko. After a rotating line-up through the years and sometimes playing as a four-piece, they sound really tight in their current form. Some songs these trailblazers ripped through were classics like "World War III"; the lightning fast gem "Waiting for You" (a song that, naturally, got the pit going crazyit's just a shame the bouncer was a Nazi. Would-be stage-divers were quickly deterred, as he tried to maintain some semblance of control over the rowdy crowd); their first single ever, "Disco Sucks" (which Joey prefaced appropriately by saying, "Some things never change"); and "New Age.î We also were treated to a brand new composition called "We Don't Want No Goddamn War"VERY fitting, as Joey IS one of the most politically-minded frontmen in punk rock, a true pioneer who genuinely cares about humanity and the state of the world. Remember, this is a man who thrice ran for public office in his native Canada. Other newer hits included "Just Say No to the WTO" and the insane, bad-ass rocker "We're Drivin' to Hell N' Back" off 2002's WIN THE BATTLE. Other highlights included the dark "Liar for Hire,î "Race Riot,î and a rendition of the oldie "Fucked Up Ronnie" renovated for the new millennium as "Fucked Up Bush.î Joe fashioned a lovely red, white, and blue "Fuck Bush" cap for the festivities. Also significant was the little Ramones tribute interlude during "Marijuana Motherfuckers,î when they broke into that "Surfin' Bird" part with the outta-control "Mmm mau mau"s. Very nice, as the day before would've been Joey Ramone's 53rd birthday (RIP). The guys ended with the one-two punch of "The Enemy" and the frantic "The Prisoner" (both off their debut LP SOMETHING BETTER CHANGE) and quickly came back for an encore (they never even left the stage), as random yells of "Fuck You" were shouted by the crowd. No, they weren't pissed at D.O.A., but rather wanted to hear the old favorite that shares the same moniker. Brilliant set, and it was wonderful to see these guys (twice, at that!) after last catching them in '99. Being a true hypocrite, I didn't stay for The Dickies. Horribly wrong on my part...but they were going on at an ungodly hour.

PIEBALD
THE JEALOUS SOUND
THE FORMAT
May 20, 2004 @ the Knitting Factory (New York, NY)
By Matthew Siblo

    Just a few days ago I was engaged in a conversation with a co-worker about how oftentimes there exists a fundamental hypocrisy within the nuances and dynamics of rock 'n' roll and its fanbase. I hypothesized that since rock 'n' roll was a music that spoke directly to its fans on issues to which they could often relate, we very often find ourselves creating an interesting and most of the time unrealistically personal bond with its performers. This is true in punk music especially, it being a genre that formed around the idea that its performers are no different from those watch (although maybe it's not so these days). This can then lead to the selfish tendency to feel cheated when we feel that we've lost some of that intimacy we once shared with a band. As I've gotten older, I've learned to silence the ultimately immature and one-sided argument behind using the term "sell-out" and instead generally wish them well but stop following them. Sadly, this is the situation with Boston's favorite oddballs, Piebald. But in the name of nostalgia (a.k.a. the single known largest killer of rock 'n' roll integrity), I decided to give them one last shot on their recent trip to New York. Besides, that bond with the performer and audience works both ways. How many times do we buy a new album or see a band live that we haven't listened to in years? Breaking up is always hard to do on all sides, especially when they were once the only friends that we had.

    If I were British, I'd say that The Format is absolute rubbish. Since I am American, I'll have to suffice to use phrases to describe them such as "faceless morons" and "unintelligent pop-rock for 16-year-old girls who look toward WB shows for musical suggestions." This band was as uninspired and forgettable as their name suggests, and their uncanny knack for ripping off second-tier bands like Rooney and The Thrills was painstakingly accurate. One highlight included a cover of Billy Joel's "Moving Out", which made them sound more like a band who should be paid a hundred dollars to play a bar mitzvah rather than a punk show. Already signed to their second major after the collapse of Elektra, I wouldn't be surprised if they found themselves on a teen movie soundtrack or two in the very near future.
The Jealous Sound (who include former members of veteran emo act Knapsack) took the stage quietly and presented themselves modestly and humbly, which aptly set the tone for their entire set. The band's driving, earnest sound is quite familiar and appealing (if not just a tad bland in a live setting). Lead singer Blair Shenan's unique vocals help the band stand out among their contemporaries, but by the fifth or sixth track it's apparent that his melodies are quite unvarying, leading many of their songs to sound alike. Playing mostly stuff off their latest full-length KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS, their no-frills approach and big choruses eventually won me over but failed to strike with enough pizzazz for me to invest in the record. Interpret that as you will.

   " We've got a job to do / And this is it!" Travis Shettel proudly shrieks in "The Monkey versus the Robot" (off their last album, WE'RE THE ONLY FRIENDS WE HAVE). Since then, Piebald has taken their "job" very seriously, touring endlessly for a solid year or two with everyone from The Juliana Theory to Cave In. The band is finally back with a new tour, a new label (the quite surprising choice of Side One Dummy), and a brand new record, ALL EARS, ALL EYES, ALL THE TIME. With all of that excitement said, from the samples they offered to the near-capacity crowd at the Knitting Factory, it seems as if the band might have been better off when they had kept their day jobs. Whereas the band has nobly matured by leaps and bounds from their earlier material, I can't help but detect a sense of frustration and confusion in where they wanted to go musically with this record. Travis's self-proclaimed "piano-power half-hour" sounded misdirected and out of place between schlocky, good-time anthems such as "Just a Simple Plan" and "Karate Chops for Everyone but Us". And while guitarist Aaron Stuart did his best to kick out the jams by frantically throwing himself about and partaking in the time-honored tradition of Townshend windmills, his efforts were just not enough. Mr. Shettel's once-glorious wailing has now been replaced by half-hearted attempts at normal vocal lines—and flat ones, at that. The band's set list was shaky, at best, and it has become strikingly apparent that the band is ready to move on from their older material. Overall, Piebald's set left me a little nostalgic, a little disappointed, and ultimately yearning for the past. And as I previously mentioned, it's hard not take such a transformation personally, just as it's hard to watch a band who no longer feel that strong connection that you once did. A long time ago, Mick said that it's only rock 'n' roll, but sometimes we can't help but feel it's so much more. Much to my chagrin, Piebald no longer has the power to do so for me.

FERRET MUSIC TOUR:
ZAO
SCARLET
MISERY SIGNALS
12 TRIBES
May 23, 2004 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Darren Davis

    As the doors of Chain Reaction opened, I managed to secure a position somewhere in between the kids who rush to the front of the stage and those who made a beeline to the merch tables. 12 Tribes was set to go on first, and they took the stage right on schedule in front of Chain Reaction's usually docile crowd. The Ohio natives played their own brand of mid-tempo melodic metalcore. Vocalist Adam Jackson's singing voice was rather impressive, dabbling in a sort of rock opera style à la Killswitch Engaged. His confidence led to song after song of controlled vocal bliss. In fact, the entire band oozed the same confidence, as if they could tell we could tell they were polished and well-rehearsed. 12 Tribes radiated a constant energy throughout their set, which must have been a task in light of the drowsy crowd.

    I had been a fan of Misery Signals (Milwaukee natives featuring ex members of the late great 7 Angels 7 Plagues) since the release of their first EP on State of the Art Recordings. They played a blistering combination of 7a7p-like melodies with fast-paced, technically-driven breakdowns. They kept it fast, energetic, and blatantly angry. I was surprised to find that I knew almost every song they played. I was expecting most of their set to contain songs off of their upcoming Ferret Records debut, OF MALICE AND THE MAGNUM HEART, of which I've only heard two previously-released tracks, but it seemed that around half the songs were from the old record, while the others included the new tracks I had heard off of a wonderful thing called the Internet. The newer songs included "The Year My Summer Ended in June" and my personal favorite, "Five Years". I was actually very impressed with Misery Signals' overall performance. They took what they were given and ran with it, and I'm sure that after their full-length comes out, they will be headlining tours of their own.

    Shortly after Misery Signals ended their set, a crew of anonymous henchmen hauled out a giant luminescent sign that read "SCARLET" in bold lettering, and propped it up behind the stage. It lit up like a Roman candle when the quintet took the stage. Scarlet's live performance was much like that sign: bright, flashy, and seizure-inducing. I had seen the Virginia natives twice before, and I had found both of those performances vibrant and entertaining. This show was no exception. Scarlet was just what the crowd needed to snap them out of their stupor and get moving. Vocalist Jon Spencer is Ferret Records' own personal rock star, his stage presence being that of a '90s arena rock frontman. He strutted around on stage with his long, spider-like arms dangling the mic over an ecstatic crowd. A sea of hands rose upwards as Spencer posted himself onto the monitor and loomed over the audience. The entire band seemed fueled by the sudden rush of energy the crowd was letting out. They managed to maintain this energy throughout a surprisingly long set, and as they played their last song, I found myself rather disappointed and hoped the crowd would call for an encore...but they did not. But there were no worries, for I knew who was coming up next.

    When I was 13 years old, a friend of mine popped in one of ZAO's early records, and I remember being horrified. I never thought that six years later, not only would ZAO be high up on my list of all-time favorite bands, but that I would actually be reviewing one their show. But there I was, front and center, waiting anxiously for one of the giants in contemporary metalcore music to take the stage. They eventually made their entrance, and the crowd sounded an uproar as the quintet began to play, the people around me turning into animals, ravaging and scrounging for the stage. That is what I had been waiting for, and ZAO had delivered. The music was so thick and overwhelming that I had to stand back and let myself take it all in. There were many times when the vocalist stood silent as the sea of people recited the songs they grew up with. Those were the moments that made the show. ZAO introduced many new songs off of their Ferret Records debut, THE FUNERAL OF GOD, the most memorable being "Praise the War Machine". However, a lot of the songs were from previous records. I believe I could speak for most of the people who attended the show by saying that it was the older songs that were the icing on the cake. Their guitarist provided comic relief between sets, poking fun at the band's infamous number of lineup changes the group has undergone. "We promise that this will never break up! This will never die!" the guitarist shouted at one point, igniting an uproar among the crowd. The entire band seemed truly sincere and touched by the crowd's enthusiasm. These guys had been on the road of months, yet they gave it everything they had (as I imagine they had done the night before, and the night before that). The show eventually winded down, ZAO as energetic as when they first took the stage. I left feeling punch drunk and strangely mystified. It had been a religious experience (pun intended).

ARTISTRY IN INK 2004
May 28, 2004 @ Anaheim Convention Center (Anaheim, CA)
By Ian Wilkins

    As you walk through the doorway of the Anaheim Convention center, you are not welcomed with a 1000-megawatt sound system, but the hum of a hundred little tattoo machines. Thinking I am either going to see some punk-rock freaks or 50-something Harley dudes, I am surprised by the whole age range. There was a booth selling infant wife-beater shirts…Fucking crazy.
There was probably over a 100 venders present, and that meant there was tons of ink being slung. Heck-Do-Dee-Do, I was subject to it after a whole day of walking around getting blasted drinking beer. Which were the low, low price of five dollars for a 16-ounce plastic bottle. One of the keys to a good convention is constant movement. Have isles that are wide enough so that people can walk down them without fucking the whole scenario up. I am proud to announce that I didn't spill a drop of my precious beer due to someone's elbow or stroller.

    If you are into tattoos at all, then this place had everything your precious little heart desired. If you felt like having your upper lip pierced, no problem. If you felt like having a tribal tattoo done the old-fashioned way, no problem. Hell, if you felt like getting a new Living Dead Doll for your collection, then this was the convention for you. The only thing that wasn't prevalent was skin without ink (except maybe on that six-year-old kid I saw—but then even that's questionable. He was smoking a 420, after all).

    When you get tired of seeing people grin with delight from the gun, you could always check out some…art? Yes, art. It is a medium most people don't even think about when it comes to tattoos, but let me tell you, it's the foundation for a sick skin flick. If you don't want to end up looking like 65-year-old sailor when you're 25, then you better get some cool art. One of the vendors was an art gallery called Ferguson Fine Arts. (When drinking, always get business cards.) They are located near the Covina area, and they had some sick shit on display. I have a few friends that collect that pin-up art, and Ferguson had tons of it. They also had some unbelievable original contemporary artwork done by Fred Litch, a young painter whose shows I have traveled to see. Seeing this kind of dope art in this setting almost made you wonder if you were in the right building. Then the buzzing comes back to you, and you move on.

    Everybody thinks they have the best tattoo—and so of course the convention had to have a best-of-show pageant. Seeing this is the equivalent to AMERICAN IDOL, but with ink. There were some really, really bad tattoos that people thought were the fucking shit. There were portraits of Johnny Depp that looked like Desi Arnez. But also in that mix were some of the greatest tats I have ever seen. This one dude had his entire right side done up like an aquarium. It looked fucking real, damn I say. Taking the pictures for the event was none other than Billy Tenney. He has been the head photographer for TATTOO (magazine) for the past 100 years. This guy is the guy you want taking your tattoo pictures. I tried like a motherfucker to get a few words out of him, but he was way too busy to for little old me. He had only about 300 pictures to take in a few hours. Fucking insane. Did I take first place in the show you ask? No, no, not today, my friends. I didn't even enter. I know I should have. I did, however, meet some really cool people walking around. I met Rick from Electric Dragon Tattoo located in Canoga Park. This guy has to do my Gandhi tattoo on my neck when I get it. I was watching him do this Jesus tat, and I was amazed by the detail. What else can you leave with at a tattoo convention? A bed! In case you didn't realize, I am into the contemporary shit, and I like to show off my tats in style. There was this vendor, Ronnie Hodgsonm, who was, in my mind, best of the show. He wasn't tattooing but showing of his collection of dope furniture. If you are ever in the market for some sick wooden pieces call this guy at (626) 812-9613 (thanks again, business cards). Vendors like Ronnie and Ferguson—and even the Living Dead Doll people—kept the show from getting too monotonous. I had never been to a tattoo convention before, and never in my wildest delusions could I have expected what I saw. It was all cool to the eye and soothing on the ears. A fun day for you and, believe it or not, the whole family.

NAME TAKEN
FROM FIRST TO LAST
SAY ANYTHING
SCATTER THE ASHES
THE HIGHER
May 30, 2004 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Beth VanBoxtel

    When a lineup such as this, I get motivated and excited to make the perilous, lengthy drive to Anaheim. All five bands listed on this show are backed by great indie labels, including Epitaph, Doghouse, and Fiddler Records. This label support only leaves one to think that each of these bands spend countless hours perfecting their sound and performance for an audience expecting great things from signed bands. As I witnessed this show, I was left feeling stunned and amazed by the efforts put forth.

    One of the very few active bands to emerge out of Las Vegas is The Higher. Formerly named September Star, this young punk band has played some of the larger venues and attracted the attention of Fiddler Records less than a year ago. After the name change came a few suitable tour support offers, and they were able to produce an EP (STAR IS DEAD) with Beau Burchell (ex-Saosin). As The Higher began playing in front of a slightly crowded venue, the pop-punk music flowing from the amps and speakers was nothing less than I had expected. Held together by extremely tight drumming, and shredding guitars, the vocals were not at all straining from frontman Seth Trotter's mouth, hidden behind his long shaggy hair. To put it bluntly, The Higher is a well-rounded garage band that has found its place opening for other indie greats. My favorite song played during their set was "Couples Skate Only", in which the tempo was slowed greatly to match the movement on stage. Sample songs from their EP on .

    As Scatter the Ashes took center stage, I was baffled by the attempts this band had taken to present themselves as possibly one of the best-dressed bands of the year. This four-piece fashion-core group from Nashville stopped at nothing to supplement their image with fancy dance moves and hip-shaking action. Starting off with "City in the Sea" and "Caesura", I found myself hit with an extreme fascination with their choppy, punk, melodic pop music laced with smooth, friendly vocals. As they continued with "White Actress" and "Citadel", the crowd began dancing along. Merely five days after the release of DEVOUT/THE MODERN HYMN, all songs featured in their set were from this album. After the announcement of their label association with Epitaph Records, everyone in the venue seemed shocked and paid much more attention to the group, as each song was followed with much applause. They closed the set was the song "Hour Benedictions", which was powerfully captivating, complete with fiercely sharp vocals, hints of keyboard and voice effects, and a full-sounding two-piece rhythm section. Check out their Website at .

    Being placed on random shows and tours such as this, Say Anything is developing quite a following. Based in Fullerton, CA, this older rock group was ruthless in their attempts at performing to a crowd full of younger, trend-driven teens. Faster than I could imagine, I was quite impressed by the happy, upbeat, controlled new-punk sounds watered down by soft, pleasing falsetto vocals. Most of their songs (including "Yellow Cat/Red Cat") came from their upcoming album release on Doghouse Records. Check them out on tour with Audio Karate, MC Lars, and Lance's Hero in the coming months by viewing their tour dates at .

    Undeniably one of my favorite bands on Epitaph—even after losing their original lead singer to Hope for the Best—this young, power-packed punk group has had its fair share of shortcomings along the way. Quickly finding vocalist Sonny from the Internet, From First to Last recorded and released a few unmastered songs onto the Internet to attract the likes of many. Compared to the previous time I had seen FFTL play a show, the band has stepped it up in terms of guitar fills, new intros, and excitement on stage. I applaud the fact that they really got the crowd moving. Although some of the songs weren't as tightly played as I had hoped, I was still impressed by their ability to pull off each song. Included in their set were "Note to Self", "My Heart Your Hands", and "Secrets Don't Make Friends" from their June 29 release, DEAR DIARY, MY TEENAGE ANGST HAS A BODY COUNT. Listen to a few tracks from their album online at .

    Closing the night with the local band nearly everyone stayed to see. Name Taken, a four-piece band from Orange, CA, was cheered on as they took the stage. As the newest add to the Fiddler Records family, NT released their album HOLD ON (produced by Beau Burchell) only a few months ago. Their set featured most songs from this, as the crowd got increasingly involved in sing-alongs and filling in the gaps where vocalist Chad Atkinson left off. I was pleased with the sound of each song that took on a lighter punk approach. They gave an outstanding and tight performance. Although I am not familiar with any of their songs, I hung around. They finished smoothly with appreciative applause from the audience and were invited back on stage to play an encore song. Check out this band for yourself by visiting their Website at .

OFFICER NEGATIVE
THE DEAL
THE HANOVER SAINTS
THE SCARRED
June 4, 2004 @ the Showcase Theatre (Corona, CA)

    It is Jerry Seinfeld here, and I just wanted to say: what's the deal with The Deal? Okay, I just had to say that, but tonight's show was insanely good. Sometimes when you go to the Showcase Theatre, you get a huge stoke off without the goodies, but tonight was insane for punk rock (or whatever is considered punk rock by you youngsters nowadays).

    SKRATCH has done reviews in the past for The Scarred. Dane Jackson, one our CD reviewers, has compared them to the legendary band The Sex Pistols. Here's a direct quote: "When listening to The Scarred, think a Sex Pistols for the 21st century with more musical ability." Now, that might have been taking it a little too far, but not THAT far. When The Sex Pistols were at their prime, they were still a bunch of rookies—similar to The Scarred now (although I hope this is not the latter's prime). Only starting in the past year, they have already taken over a bunch of shit. Their debut album is called REPRESSION, and it totally kicks ass. The Scarred have the DIY mentality, and it shows in everything they are doing. They book their own shows and even drive their own buses. They really do do it all.

The Scarred
Photo by Chad Sengstock

    The Hanover Saints were not the best band of the night, and in my opinion they probably should have opened the show with the way they were playing, but they were still a fun band to see. The Hanover Saints have a history of playing great shows, but tonight I have a feeling that I saw them on when of their off nights. With an old-school punk-rock feel, the band is going to have you leaving the show with a little extra bounce in your step. They have a new album out called BLOOD, GUTS AND GLORY (on the Strike First label). Regrettably for all of us, you have to go to...to…(okay, I am just going to say it) Hot Topic to pick up the album—OR go buy it online at .

    If you have never heard or seen The Deal, then check this band out. You know you will be doing that middle-finger-flash thing. They rip so hard that even the gay guys will be going, "I wish they had used a bit of lube." The Deal is four fucking guys who abuse their instruments like an priest abuses the fourth grade. It is insane and fast as fuck, but with a tinge of style. The Deal have played with countless great bands, like DI, TSOL, and (my favorite band) The Adicts, so it was no wonder that they blew me away…again. 10 more words is all I have to waste to get (it has now been 420 words to this spot) to that point. (I feel satisfied.) I am not really sure what to say about The Deal…other than that they were the best band I saw that night. And it was all for free. That's right—I paid nothing.

The Deal
Photo by Chad Sengstock

    Officer Negative approaches the stage with about a 100 people standing around. Did I say a 100? Okay, make that 101, 'cause I am there. How can you take screaming and ripping guitars and get this? Fuck if I know, but they did it. This was a band that made me shit pants—and I was happy about it. You take the average four guys in a band, flip the cards, and this is what you get: fast, hard, and "fuck you" is again what you're going to hear. Officer Negative is one of those bands that you really don't want your daughter seeing, 'cause it is going to corrupt her for sure. It is fast, but with a twist. Fuck, what do I have to do to go get you to see them? Alright, I wrote my review, and now you should go.

Officer Negative
Photo by Chad Sengstock

    Normally when going to the Showcase Theatre, I feel a bit of dread. There's no alcohol of any kind and a bunch of little wannabes who have no idea what music is all about. Tonight's show hasn't changed the way I feel about the venue. Then again, it doesn't matter what the house looks like it—it is all about how you decorate it, right? The bands of the night were fantastic, and I hope to see them all again in the near future.

BANG SUGAR BANG
THE DOLLYROTS
THE ADJUSTMENTS
June 7, 2004 @ Punk Rock Prom (Silver Lake, CA)
By Ian Wilkins

    The Punk Rock Prom is a venue that has been around forever in Los Angeles. It has been the launching pad for way-too-many-to-list music careers. The venue was packed an hour before the show, and parking was pretty much "you're going to get a ticket if you dare to park here"-type shit. By the time I finally got inside, I was ready for some air-conditioning and a drink—both of which were delivered in a timely fashion.

    The Adjustments were the first in the tactical line to take on the now- 200-plus crowd. With a punk-rock drummer, a guitarist from hell, a classically-trained pianist, a horn man that would could blow the brass right of the instrument (now, don't be a fucking pervert and put to much into that last remark), and a bassist that uses his stings to kill the crowd like an archer would. This was music at its greatest. If you're familiar with the band Melee, then you might have an idea of what The Adjustments sounded like. If you don't know who Melee is, then just imagine if you took all of the members different backgrounds, threw them all into a blender, and they added a eight ball of coke. It was high-energy fun with a side of soul. If you smart and want to check them out, then go to www.theadjustments.com.

    Quicker than you can say "I'm spicy" (Jack in the Box reference), The Dollyrots were ready to go. The crowd was so packed in at this point that it was basically "I am going to stand on your shoulders, and you're going to like it bitch" (that is a real quote). The Dollyrots have been playing the Los Angeles club scene for some time now and are featured on the new HP commercial. It was amazing the kind of energy that these three can produce right after a U.S. tour promoting their new album, EAT MY HEART OUT. Starting their set off with "Feed, Me, Pet Me", it took the crowd all of about two minutes to start a polka pit (that's the kind of pit, where you walk away with a new friend and not a broken nose). After playing a 45-minute, mind-blistering, punk-rock roller-coaster ride, The Dollyrots finished with only one encore ,"Dance With Me". I didn't get to meet them after the show, but I went to their Website (www.thedollyrots.com) to find out their names for you. Kelly is the lead singer, and boys, let me tell you, she is a great vocalist/bassist (you need to see her). Lewis was the guitarist/back-up vocalist. He was the shit, as far as all that goes. Drummer Josh I have seen in other bands before, and I thought he was good then, and now he is only better at beating the shit out of those damn drum things. Having an '80s pop happy feel to them, this band is original and truly worth your time to check out.

    The club could probably hold around 500 people. Tonight I swear there were over 800 heads. This show wasn't publicized at all, and there was still a fucking mob. Bang Sugar Bang is another band located in the L.A. region. Having seen them twice before, I was peeing in my pants with delight when they first came on. Opening with my favorite song of the year, "She's So Up", Bang Sugar Bang kept going non-stop for 45 minutes. If you're getting tired of all the bullshit punk that is out there and want to hear some Pixies-influenced type shit then, Bang Sugar Bang is the band for you. Sharing the microphone, Matt and Copper are a couple of fucking nuts who know who the true god is: BEER. BSB music is like off-roading in a Mini Cooper. It will leave your nuts jumping and your head rattled (or maybe that's the other way around). They play often at the Kiss or Kill club on Tuesday nights, but if you're smart, you can find out more about them or when they are playing at www.bangsugarbang.com.

    With so much attention being placed on the Orange County, let's not forget that there are some great bands that are coming out of the Los Angeles area. If you're tired of the same shit, then it might be because you keep shitting on the same toilet. Expand your horizons, little ones.

ANTI-FLAG
DEATH BY STEREO
THE NIGHT WATCHMAN
PIPEDOWN
June 8, 2004 @ the Roxy (West Hollywood, CA)
By the Jeff Penalty

    You probably really wanted to go to this show but couldn't get a ticket, right? Well, you were right to want to go. You missed what was possibly the best show of 2004.

    Pipedown welcomed the packed house with an above-average hardcore set. Things were a little chilly when they first stepped on stage, proving that just because the crowd is psyched for the show doesn't mean the first opening band's job is any easier. But Pipedown didn't, uh, pipe down; they turned up the juice and won over some new fans. They are, as I like to say, good stuff.

    The crowd was then treated to an excellent change of pace as the curtains rose on Tom Morello (a.k.a. The Night Watchman). I challenge anyone to argue with the fact that Tom is, by far, one of the best guitarists in rock history. Takers? I didn't think so. As The Night Watchman, Tom channeled his chops through a classical acoustic and played a subdued set of original protest songs, showcasing both his range as a guitarist and his baritone voice. The crowd, surprisingly, got it and listened receptively. The songs were mostly political, and one included a mid-song shout out to "the L.A. grocery workers, who are fucking heroes!" (Just so we're all on the same page: the L.A. grocery-workers strike was of national and historical importance because if the tens of thousands of employees of Safeway and Kroger had rolled over and accepted a 50% cut in their healthcare benefits and a mediocre "two-tier" wage system, it would have set a disturbing precedent as far as what kind of poor labor practices corporations can get away with. Such cuts would have been copied by other big companies, just as Safeway and Kroger were trying to copy them from Wal-Mart. Unabated, such practices will eventually spread and slowly become commonplace and soon enough you (yes, you!) will be left without any of the benefits or protections that union workers have fought so hard to put in place over the years (e.g., THE WEEKEND!). The striking workers had to endure all kinds of hardships to fight that battle, and we should ALL be thanking them and giving them hugs every time we visit one of their stores. Okay?)

The Night Watchman

    Death by Stereo revved the evening's musical engines up again, and soon things were running past the red. I'd never seen them live and had no idea that what I'd been missing was the musical equivalent of having jumper cables shoved into one's eye sockets—in a good way! Their "third guitarist" was playing an awesome skull-shaped guitar that I later learned was fake. That, my friends, is pure showmanship. Beyond that, their entire set was a blur, because even though I was standing way in the back, their face-pummeling display of metal-core power made me feel like I was in the middle of the pit. How's THAT for an endorsement? (One small note here for the shirtless, muscle-bound meathead dude in the pit: Please do not walk around the perimeter of the pit and shove people who are simply watching the show. We're not impressed. In fact, we're all thinking to ourselves that you probably have a very small penis, and also that you are a latent homosexual. We don't think any less of you for being gay, we just think it's sad that you hide behind a macho facade instead of coming to terms with your sexuality. Be honest with yourself and stop trying to start a fight in your pathetic attempt to overcompensate.)

Death by Stereo

    Meatheads aside, the show was moving along beautifully, and things got even more beautiful when Anti-Flag pumped a stadium's worth of energy into this 500-person-capacity club. I've seen Anti-Flag numerous times over the course of about eight years, and I'm not exaggerating when I say this show was absolutely the best I've ever seen them play. The sound at the Roxy was impeccable, the band's performance was note perfect, and they earned every bead of sweat they generated from both among themselves and the audience. Every song felt like a classic—even the newer material. Not only was their set fluid and fierce, but it turns out that it came just hours after the band had endured a transcontinental flight, which made it twice as impressive! Clearly, Anti-Flag has reached a new level in their development. They've taken a big step up from where they were as songwriters and showmen just a couple years ago (which was already a big step up from where they were a few years before that). That growth, plus the energy provided by the opening bands, plus the intimacy of the Roxy, added up to an amazing live music experience. And you totally fucking missed it. Go forth and hate yourself. On second thought, don't do that. You're a good person deep down, and you can make a difference in this world. In the spirit of all the politically-minded bands on this bill, funnel your rage and frustration into a force for positive change. I'll leave you with a very cool Web address, , and a quote from The Night Watchman: "Take a step towards freedom, and it'll take two steps towards you."

Anti-Flag

PUNKS VS. PSYCHOS TOUR:
LARS FREDERIKSEN AND THE BASTARDS
NEKROMANTIX
ROGER MIRET AND THE DISASTERS
HORRORPOPS
June 11, 2004 @ House of Blues (Hollywood, CA)
By Jennifer Moncayo

    In usual House of Blues fashion, the Punks vs. Psycho Tour was kicked off quite early, with doors opening at 6 p.m. and drinks costing a fortune. Despite the early opening, many people showed up to see the first band, Horrorpops. Emerging from Copenhagan, Denmark, Horrorpops play their own style of psychobilly-infused rock music. The band is led by female singer and upright bassist Patricia. She is joined by her husband on guitar, Kim Nekroman (who plays upright bass in Nekromantix). They are accompanied by Neidermeier on drums, Karsten on guitar, and two dancing ladies who jump around on stage lifting their skirts and shaking their tushes for the world to see. By the time I got inside, Horrorpops were already halfway through their set. Patricia is quite the looker, as she has definite style, stage presence, and a sexy accent. As she sings and the band rocks out, they have their go-go dancers shaking their asses around the stage. Patricia announced that one of the dancers was new and from Texas. Not to be cruel or anything, but she looked a little more uncomfortable and self-conscious than the other go-go dancer, who was stealing all of the attention by simply being herself. I thought the dancing go-gos would get on my nerves—it sounds a little cheesy—but it actually complemented the band and their style. The band's performance was energetic, upbeat, and rich with crowd participation. For the song "Miss Take", Patricia asked the crowd to sing along with the back-up vocals, which she demonstrated prior to beginning the song. They also played a ska-like number and asked the crowd to skank along with them. Overall, they had a great performance, as they got the crowd pumped, sang their hearts out, and really demonstrated why there is so much hype about their band.

    Roger Miret and the Disasters powered their way on to the stage, singing their hardcore anthems to get the crowd moving and angry. Lead singer and guitarist Roger Miret (formerly of Agnostic Front) is accompanied by several other leaders of the NYC punk/hardcore scene, such as Johnny Kray on drums, Johnny Rioux on bass, and Rhys Kill on guitar. They played a fun-filled set, including their cover of Cocksparrer's classic "England Belongs to Me" (changing it to "New York Belongs to Me"). They even played Agnostic Front's "Gotta Go", which was quite a crowd favorite. Their set also included "Punch the Clock" and "It's Alright", among others.

    Nekroman pulled a double shift, playing another set with his psychobilly rock band Nekromantix. Nekromantix are a three-piece from Denmark, with Nekroman on upright bass and vocals and brothers Peter Sandorff on guitar and Kristian Sandorff on drums. The crowd was packed in like sardines, and the smell of B.O. began to waft through the air. Nekroman rocked out with this bass, twirling it around, throwing it up in the air, and laying it on the ground while still playing it. While Nekroman was rocking out, he was making funny faces, sticking out his tongue, twirling it around a million miles a minute at the crowd, and even licking his bass. My friend and I were joking that perhaps his tongue action explained why his wife looked happily married. On a less perverted note, their set included songs which displayed their love for horror, ghosts, and death, such as "Dead Girls Don't Cry", "Subcultural Girl" (which they dedicated to all the females in the audience), and "Who Killed the Cheerleader" (which he dedicated to Britney Spears). They put on a good show that both the punks and psychos could appreciate.

    When Lars Frederiksen and the Bastards took the stage, I was waiting for Lars to take the stage, but once I focused the pupils I realized he was already on stage—I just didn't recognize him. He had longer, combed-back, blond hair and a very scruffy face. Another new development was the unknown bastard is no longer unknown: his mask has come off—and if you didn't already figure it out, it is Gordy, lead singer of The Forgotten. As for the other bastards, Craig (formerly of The Forgotten) was on guitar, Big Jay Bastard on bass, and Scott Abels on drums. The band rocked out, running around the stage and having a great time. Lars commented that although the tour was termed "punks vs. psychos," he proclaimed that there is no "versus" and instead it was "the punks and psychos tour." He also joked that it should be called the Danish invasion tour. They even had the flag of Denmark as their backdrop which he dedicated to Nekromantix and Horrorpops. Lars also dedicated my favorite song, "To Have and to Have Not" (cover of Billy Brag), to his best friend, Tim, who was standing in the balcony. Their set also included "Dead American", "Skunx", "Wine and Roses", as well as new songs of their next album, VIKING. Skinhead Rob of The Transplants also came out with a joint in hand and helped sing one of their new songs. The Bastards graced the audience with an encore, which included an old Rancid song (sung by Gordy), and they closed the show with "Vietnam". It was a great show that displayed their talent and love for music and performing.

    It was a successful Punks vs. Psycho tour, with an equal distribution of good bands for both audiences and musical tastes. The only drawback of the night was that it ended so early, with the whole party ending before 11.

THE ADICTS
ANGRY SAMOANS
D.I.
NARCOLEPTIC YOUTH
SIDEKICK
June 12, 2004 @ Malibu Inn (Malibu, CA)
By Jennifer Moncayo
The Malibu Inn is located on PCH, with the beautiful ocean across the street. The club only sold tickets online, and when people arrived, the club declared the show 18 and over. Well, a large percentage of the online ticket buyers were under 18, so they still let them in, but they didn't let in kids who walked up, which sucked. However, I can't complain, as one of the guys who worked there was kind enough to let me in even though my name wasn't put on the list. This puts the Malibu Inn on my good list—plus the fact that it contains two bars, two pool tables, and an outside area where people can sit and eat or hang out and drink.

    After enjoying the outdoor drinking atmosphere, D.I. took the stage wearing paper Ronald Reagan masks. They were making a timely social critique, as former President Ronald Reagan had just passed away. Their masks and their comments got the crowd riled up as many cheered "Fuck Reagan" as they went into the song "Reagan der Furhrer". D.I. is an O.C. band, and despite the Malibu location, there seemed to be several O.C. fans. At one point, there was even a white woman with an O.C. tattoo on her arm. The pit was huge, and in the middle of their set a fight broke out, which several good Samaritans tried to help quell, but it didn't happen until the band stepped in and asked the jockos to calm down. There was also a population of white men who thought they were too cool and buff, so they had to take off their shirts and walk around like they were hot shit (which they were not: it was more like they smelled like shit and looked like assholes). Regardless, the band was fantastic. They had the crowd energized and participating, as they played songs like "Johnny's Got a Problem" and "Guns".

    The remaining ensemble of the '80s L.A. band Angry Samoans took the stage to unleash their humorous and punchy style of punk rock. Singer Mike Saunders came out with a Lizzy McGuire record, which he held up like Vanna White for the crowd to see. After playing great songs like "Right Side of My Mind" and "Hot Cars", singer Mike switched with drummer Bill Vockeroth and they played the song made famous by Pee Wee Herman, "Tequila" by The Champs. They invited people on stage for a dance contest, in which my boyfriend was the first to accept the challenge by jumping on stage and doing his Pee Wee dance. A few more people jumped up, but their dancing skills were under par, and then Bill pulled up a wasted woman with a hoochie short skirt and heels to dance. When the song finished and the contest was over, she just kept dancing like she was on GIRLS GONE WILD. As the nasty audience we were, people started booing, and then some girl standing on the side of the stage walked up to the wannabe stripper and pushed her to the floor. The drunken lady looked so pissed as she squirmed on the floor tripping over her heels. When she finally got up, she stomped over to the girl who shoved her and gave her a hug. The set continued, and the crowd and energy was at a high, as people jumped on and off stage, grabbing the mic trying to sing and just be a part of the show. The audience was intense and pushing to the front, leaving everyone squished and sweaty as they played "Homo-sexual", "Inside My Brain", "Get Off the Air", and "My Old Man's a Fatso".
After a LONG wait, The Adicts finally graced the stage. As the band walked out on stage, the song from A CLOCKWORK ORANGE was playing, and then the band came out and played Beethoven's "Ode to Joy". They then went right into their first song, "Viva La Revolucion", and Monkey jumped on stage with a bag of goodies. Monkey was dressed in his usual flashy, colorful, and spandex attire—with a painted face—while the band wore all white. The crowd was going crazy, as people were being thrown on stage and jumping over people to sing their favorite songs. They played an array of their songs, including "Bad Boy", "Joker in the Pack", "Troubadour", "California", and "How Sad". As a band with such longevity, talent, and fantastic songs, they managed to please the crowd and play an array of their classic songs, as well as some new songs off their new album, ROLLERCOASTER. When the band told the crowd they were going to sing a new song, someone screamed out "Naughty Girl", and Monkey started laughing, saying the only way they knew the song was from a bootleg copy. The new songs they played lived up to their reputation.

   hroughout the show, Monkey continuously threw confetti all over the place, and the keyboardist threw himself on the floor and put his face in a pile of confetti. After playing a fun-filled set, the band left and came back for an encore, playing even more of their wonderful songs, like "Numbers", and "Songs of Praise".

    It was a great night, filled with a great lineup and performances that pleased the crowd...or, at least, me.

7 SECONDS
PIPEDOWN
RED TAPE
June 20, 2004 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By the Jeff Penalty

    With all the killer shows I've been to lately, I keep thinking that eventually my luck will run out and I'll go to a show where I'm totally bored and nothing good happens. Not tonight, though. Not by a fucking long shot.

    I'm sad to say I missed Red Tape's entire set due to a guest-list snafu, so I offer my apologies. From outside, they sounded okay. Fast, loud, hardcore stuff. My friend Jenny said they were "fine," which is a pretty big compliment coming from her. Then again, we disagree on a lot of things where music is concerned, so who knows?

    Pipedown opened for Anti-Flag at the last amazing show I went to, so I was looking forward to seeing them again. At that show, it took them a little while to get warmed up, but at this show they hit terminal velocity the moment they hit the stage. I have but one complaint about this band, and that is the singer's lack of inventiveness when it comes to stage banter. A lot of "Is everyone having a good time?" and "How's everybody doing tonight?" kind of comments. Other than that, the guy has an undeniable stage presence, and the band gives a good name to new-school hardcore. If I had to offer some constructive criticism, I'd say work on the between-song speeches. Just trying to help!

    The crowd packed in tight as 7 Seconds prepared to take the stage. I figured most of the crowd would be a bit older, and that it would be smaller, considering the band hasn't put out any new material in a long time; but I was pleasantly surprised to see that the band still gets the respect it deserves from the kids, who filled the place and knew every word. I got as close to the stage as I could, desperate for a chance to "whoa-oh-oh" along with the band. I was slightly skeptical about what kind of performance they'd be able to deliver, not having toured in over three years and being, well, kinda old (I mean, let's just be honest); but my skepticism was pulverized out of existence by the end of the first song. The set was full of classics from THE CREW and WALK TOGETHER, ROCK TOGETHER, as well as scattered tunes from other albums (including their newest, which is slated for release this fall). For longtime fans of the band, the new stuff sounds very promising, a return to the sound that made them great in the first place. Where the hell do they get the energy? Maybe it's all that coffee Kevin's been brewing lately.

    Chain Reaction has a well-known "no stage-diving" policy, but tonight it was resoundingly ignored by crowd and the staff alike. The place just went off, plain and simple. I think everyone in attendance was equally blown away by the power of the performance. At the end of the night, the band treated us to a hard and fast two-song encore, for which I could barely stand. But I figured that if the band has the energy to dish it out, I'd better find the energy to take it. So back to the front I went with my fist in the air and my lungs on the verge of collapse as I sang along: "Use your…head! Be…aware! Give…a…FUCK!!!" I was completely worked by the end of it all. I was fully drained of all emotional and physical energy. I was sore and bruised. I was drenched in sweat. I didn't fully catch my breath until I was halfway home. It was not unlike getting off a roller coaster. And wanting to go again. It was as though 7 Seconds had been hanging out up on Mt. Olympus, allowing us mortals to entertain ourselves with our pathetic attempts to make music, and then, like the Zeus of hardcore, they descended upon us with the thunder and lightning of this show to remind us how it's really done. I remain in awe.

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