Rag Rage @ The Punk Porch, 6.27.2009

New name, just about everyone from the same great band. I liked the variety of Panty Hearst’s dual-vocalist setup better (remember, I’m a lyricist and not a musician), but this is still one of Columbus’ greatest current bands.

Comfest 2009

“Partying with a purpose” still means consuming over-priced food and beverages that are terrible for you, listening to (mostly) shitty music and buying hippy knickknacks. Where do all these freaks come from? I can’t decide whether they’re like some weird insect that hibernates all year except for a few days in late June or that they’re just normals with nostalgia for an obnoxious era.

I don’t want to sound mean, I do appreciate the country’s largest noncorporate sponsored event (at least that’s the rumor), but each year after spending one day with all those weirdos in Goodale Park, I’m good for another year.

Story about a death at Comfest. Can’t remember hearing about a death in the past. Hopefully the event doesn’t turn into a Bonnaroo which averages one death a year.

Updated story here.

1-2 Time and Temperature (Yo, Val, if you ever need album or promotional photos let me know.)

3-4 Bret an Michelle

6 - Ginger Fetus

10 – Columbus heart throbs vs. my favorite guilt pleasure

zine review: Griot 6/Pudd’nhead 5 split

The problem with helping your friends out with their zine is that you’re never surprised with the finished product.

Fortunately that wasn’t the case with Griot 6. Not just because Brain tries too hard to be a man of mystery (though we didn’t find out the zine was done until it was displayed on a table 500 miles away from home), but because it was a split with Pudd’nhead.

In Brian’s half he continues to improve upon his philosophical style that involves over-thinking everyday situations. It’s easy reading but insightful. One tale uses cicadas to show the cyclical nature of life, another about the great cultural tradition of having a nemesis (to be honest I wanted Young Steppenwolf and the King of All Farts to join forces and create a super nemesis or at least duel to the death). Both stories are prophetic without being a bore.

While I had proofread all of Brian’s original work a month or so ago, there were a few surprises for me in his half. One was a comic by Constance titled “Dog Dream.” I’m glad the last panel is on a separate page so the ending is not desensitized by accidental peeking. Another is an interview by Aaron Smith (from the Big Hands zine) with a true Griot.

Flip the issue over and you get Pudd’nhead 5 “Red Menace.” I was a little reserved to begin reading this half due to the title, lack of graphics (come on now, the yearbook flier deserves to be a full page!) and footnotes, but this is quality writing about the author’s beginning days as a punk. He compares it to “Catcher in the Rye” and “Stand by me,” but fuck that mainstream shit. This is more like punk rock John Fante.

Any small-town punk can relate to these stories. To sum things up: a few friends, who can loosely be defined as punks, fumble through adolescence the best they can in their stifling hometown only to break up once they get older. What makes this work better than your typical zine is that the author specializes in pointing out the subtle, humorous moments from our youth we might have overlooked ourselves.

Both halves compliment each other well with upbeat nostalgia. Soon, however, we’ll have to worry about what it’s like to be grown up punks. Will it be as enjoyable to read? I guess we’ll be in for a surprise.

To receive a copy visit microcosm.org, email ieatfood123 at hotmail dot com, mail Griot at P.O. Box 10563, Columbus, OH 43201, or Mike Pudd’nhead at P.O. Box 7458 Mpls, MN 54407.

Do Ya Hear We: 6.21 @ The Low Down

1-3 Party Grave

4-5 The Morons

6-9 The Horrible Odds

10-11 Dos Tornados

(let me know if I got these names screwed up and I’ll fix them ASAP)

By Sunday, I was starting to get showed out (well, I was also dreading a 500-mile motorcycle ride) and I didn’t catch all the bands. Sorry. The ones I knew about prior to the fest (The Morons and Horrible Odds) didn’t disappoint and I enjoyed some sleepers that I didn’t know aside from the Do Ya Hear We sampler. Thanks, BTW, to whoever made that CD and the zine.

The highlight of Sunday was definitely Party Grave and they made up for Shotwell not making it and even the announcement that Ye Olde Butt Fuck would play. I regret not getting better photos of the singer’s screams – easily the best I saw (and heard) in Chattanooga.

Do Ya Hear We: The Crowdsurfers

Does anyone know the origins of crowdsurfing?

Do Ya Hear We: Group Shotgun @ The Low Down, 6.20.2009

After seeing the cover of this year’s program (two posts below) and What If?’s latest tour (where their enthusiasm for shotgunning beers peaked in Columbus when they learned that two people could shotgun the same beer) I was surprised at the lack of this particular type of binge drinking at the fest.

Then again, the group shotgunning below could only be described as amazing.

Do Ya Hear We: Shell Shag @ The Low Down, 6.20,2009

Normally two pieces don’t do it for me. They tend to be too simple … and hip. While I’m not sure Shell Shag will be making it to my daily play list, they will be a must see live. Not sure how they flew under my radar so long.

Their set was probably the best of the fest. Think about that: there were 40-plus other bands including long-waited reunions. By playing for what seemed like an hour, Shell Shag even made up for Jack Palance Band’s no show which was suppose to highlight the night.

Trading in keyboards for a guitar, I got a Matt and Kim vide. Are they the next punk favorite to get big? Meaning will they soon be heard in a Bacardi commercial like their fellow Brooklyn rockers?

Do Ya Hear We? Coming soon.

After four night of drinking until dawn, squished between by a 1000-mile round-trip motorcycle ride, and followed by a deadline day I’m too beat to process the hundreds of photos or write about a few of the tales.

But they’re coming and be excited. I was on. Not that it was difficult when you’re navigating through everything from southern punks to biker gangs.

A natural model

Sometimes when you’re stuck at a hotel all there is to do is photography. Less than two days later the only thing I would have wanted to photograph was throwing Jason out the window on the highway.

NYC

Oh yeah, I was in NYC for a minute last week. Two random street shots.

Is it weird to miss streets that smell like urine and trains that are always late?