Payday loans

Suicide Beach

February 12th, 2012

In honor of the fact that I accidentally pre-ordered Fucked Up’s Year of the Tiger twice (I fucked up!), I’ve decided to review some records over the next couple of weeks.

Career SuicideCherry Beach 7″ (2011)

When I first heard Career Suicide I thought my turntable was spinning too fast. On Attempted Suicide (2006) the band was playing punk rock at what seemed like the fastest pace possible without careening off into another genre. Because of that, when I first heard this record I thought it was playing too slow.

With all those beats per minute it was easy to overlook the fact that what made Attempted Suicide so memorable was the songs themselves. It snarled like 1977′s best. Cherry Beach slows things down (it’s still fast, by the way) and the result is an even greater rhythmic thrust. The band grooves and swaggers, now less a runaway train and more one that blasts through giant boulders with a fucking purpose. The intensity hasn’t waned at all; Martin’s vocals sound even more comfortably pissed this time around. Everything on this record just feels right. The songs “Cherry Beach” and “Double Life” have been around since 2008 and it shows. They have been perfected.

Aside from how much these four songs totally kick ass I am struck by how much the guitars and drums sound like Fucked Up. It makes sense: The bands share a member (even though Jonah plays different instruments in each band — drums in Fucked Up and guitar in Career Suicide). Still, in discussing past Career Suicide records this personnel connection would seem more like punk rock trivia than anything else. Here it sounds like there’s a bit more to it…

I’ve been excited to see what kind of music gets left in the wake of Fucked Up’s genre-bending ways. I suppose it makes sense that one of the first hints of their influence comes from a member of the band. The stomping interludes during “Things Take a Turn” are probably the best example of this.

“Cast a seed to the sky as my valediction, that you could be the vine to grow a truth from the fiction. Empty the theatre, rush through the door, start living the life you never could before.
– Fucked Up, “Lights Go Up,” from David Comes to Life (2011)

Is Damian singing to his drummer? As far as I can tell Fucked Up is not really dead, but long live Career Suicide anyway.


March 27th, 2011

So here I am, assembling the new BRAIN VACATION record, and I jump on the internet for a second and find this. Talk about a kick in the balls. I know most of you probably already had ROBO SAGA EP at the top of your “Records of the Year 2011″ list but I think you’re probably going to need to make room for this new Fucked Up LP. I love that band so much.

Don’t even bother listening to the new Massive Indifference song.

What We All Come to Need

March 11th, 2010

News and notes from around the World of Waste!

- I rode my bike to school Tuesday and today. Despite rain this morning, it was still the right decision. It’s getting “warm” around here!

-I’ve decided that my upcoming book is going to be 1500 pages, kinda like a dictionary. So far, I have 0.3 pages.

-I’m going to see PELICAN tomorrow with a couple of the people who read this blog. Then on Saturday, another regular reader arrives from San Francisco. On Wednesday night, two more dudes who read this will be getting here. Aside from maybe two of you, that pretty much covers my readership. I’m thinking we can all get together and talk about my blog? Spring break? More like Focus Group!

If this text appears, it means the picture ran away from the internet.

Speaking of Pelican, tomorrow’s show is particularly exciting because they’ll be selling copies of their latest album, What We All Come to Need, which was just released on vinyl (I’ve had mp3s since late last year). The album is already quite great, and the LP comes with extra tracks, and the package is a really gorgeous gatefold (I would expect nothing less from Southern Lord), so that’s all good news. In fact, the thickness of the 2xLP jacket might actually force my record collection to overflow into a third milk crate. Nerd alert! (Although if I remember correctly, one of the absentee readers of this blog has way more wax than my ass.)

I’m pretty sure I saw one of the guitarists from Pelican at the Fucked Up show a few weeks ago, so that is cool too. It’s always nice to know that someone you like likes someone else you like, as long as it doesn’t get messy. To the peculiarly knowledgeable but unrefined reader, that may serve as no surprise — loud musician from Chicago listens to other loud musicians when they tour through Chicago — but I’d say to you, first of all, nice job knowing that Pelican is from Chicago, but more important: perhaps Fucked Up and Pelican are not so similar, despite being rock bands with huge guitar sounds. I might go so far to say that they are artistically quite opposed to one another. One band has no singers, the other has a giant fat guy who yells all the time. Put that in your coffee grinder and brew it!


April 3rd, 2009


LOL!!!!!! Another golden oldie. In honor of this classic cartoon, below I will list the 5 albums I would most enjoy to be shipwrecked on a desert island with. Of course, it’d be nice to have a record player as well. These are some of my favorite records, but not necessarily my most favorite. Just a nice cross-section of what I’d like to listen to while I starve to death.

1) Akimbo – Forging Steel and Laying Stone
2) Fucked Up – Hidden World
3) Merle Haggard & the Strangers – Sing Me Back Home
4) The Lawrence Arms – Apathy and Exhaustion
5) Torche – Meanderthal

Sorry it took me a whole week to make something happen at the Waste. Busy times. Meanwhile, my Cloak/Dagger review got published over at punknews. Jesus Christ pays the bills!


March 19th, 2009

After listening to Year of the Rat for the first time, I started feeling sorry for the readers of this blog because I knew I was going to have to come here and rave once more about how sweet Fucked Up is. I was trying to come up with some kind of analogy for my worship of this band, but I fell short. The best I could come up with is that if Fucked Up were my abusive husband I would love him unhealthily and keep coming back for more. But that doesn’t really work because this band has never laid a figurative finger on me that wasn’t solicited. My opinion on them is officially invalid until they release 2 albums of garbage to clear my head and let me think objectively once again. Here’s to hoping that day never comes.



February 26th, 2009

I swear I will stop praising Fucked Up’s “The Chemistry of Common Life” sooner or later, but I just have to add that it re-presented itself to me again today on the drive home. I haven’t had a job since that album came out, and it has come to sort of represent the last few months of my life.

They’re all dogs fighting over the bone,
I’m gonna live, I’m gonna leave it alone
“Crooked Head”

It’s this kind of poetry that has elevated the entire album to “Eric’s own personal soundtrack to spacing out on the real world. Y’know, feelin’ all rebellious and cool and shit.”

But, now, I have a job. And I like it. Of course, I’m not chained to a desk or shoveling concrete, and it’s less than 20 hours a week. So I’m not exactly straining myself, but still. I’m waking up 4 hours sooner than I’m used to, 3 times a week. I’m working.

And I’m leaving work at 5pm, in my car, in Los Angeles. 1+1+1 = traffic. And I fucking hate traffic. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for wasting life away, but there are millions of more productive ways to kill yourself slowly.

Yet as “No Epiphany” stuttered to life through my car speakers this afternoon and I looked down at the speedometer (0 MPH), I felt less road rage and more like a kid leaving school for summer vacation. My limbs and skull were so comfortably numb as I let the buzz envelop me. No, I was not high. This record is just that good. The entire second half of it runs like this, equal parts hardcore punk and shoegazey guitar noise — like robots and pizza, it pairs perfect with traffic for a stress-free decompressing drive home.

Get the record. Get the record. Get the record. Stare at the sun and the taillights in front of you, and “don’t forget you’re alive. (–Joe Strummer)”

(The Future is Unwritten, Strummer’s biography, is free on demand right now for Time Warner customers on the Sundance Channel and is quite inspiring as well.)