My summer 2023 live music plan just took a hit, and not in the good way. An early August date to go see Social Distortion at the Norva here in town was deleted from the calendar. For among the crummiest of reasons.
Singer and lifeblood Mike Ness has tonsil cancer. Echo the "F cancer" refrain.
He posted a couple of weeks ago:
We think that life is going to go according to our plan, but it has a way of saying “I don’t think so!”
In the midst of pre-production, I was diagnosed with stage one tonsil cancer. I was feeling well enough to continue with recording in the studio up until the very day before surgery. The band and I were so inspired and excited to lay down these tracks, which by the way sound f-ing AWESOME!
The recovery from surgery is a day-by-day process and in three weeks we start radiation and that should be the last therapy I need. The team of doctors are certain that once finished with this course, I will be able to start the healing and recovery process. We expect a full recovery enabling me to live a long and productive life.
It breaks my heart to postpone the Summer Tour, and this album release, but time is required to heal. I can’t thank our loyal fans enough who have been waiting so patiently for this. While it will take a little longer-I promise you that it will be delivered and it will exceed your expectations.
I want you all to know that this has opened my eyes to a whole new struggle. I know it’s one that many of you or your loved ones have personally endured, and my heart goes out to you-because I now know what it’s like from this heavy experience.
I’m surrounded by love and support from my friends and family ESPECIALLY my lovely wife and incredible boys (oh and don’t forget my 3 dogs and kitty) THANK YOU ALL in advance to our unbelievable fans for YOUR love and support right now. ♥️
We WILL get through this….
Rooting like hell for Mr. Ness. Go get 'em. Happy that the prognosis isn't worse.
I intended to post a Gheorghe's 6-pack for Social D as a tip of the cap to the man, the band, and the predicament. Turns out, I did that 5 years ago! Fancy that.
Post abandoned. Except... my G:TB search returns for "Social Distortion" were way more interesting than I'd ever have thought!
The beauty of nearly 20 years of Gheorghedom is that I forget most of what our goofy band of misfits have etched in the walls of this blogcave. And walks into the past amuse me greatly, if only to discover how we wrote back then, what predictions did and didn't come true, and what amazing time on my hands I had when I was employed by your federal government.
3. The Mike Ness Files, according to rob. A list of being wrong with some of our prognostications.
4. The launch of Music Month. A month that concluded with the list of biggest douches in rock and roll (one which could use some updating... and was recently tagged by Blogger as vulgar). But this post was my equation of album track chronology and baseball lineup cards, with Social D's s/t record as the quintessential analogy. Good banter in the comments.
5. Ghoogles!! From 2009!! "mike ness quotes," "social distortion live at the roxy," "social distortion sick boys blogspot download"... glad we could be of help.
6. Gheorghe's Milestones in Music... wherein we all listed our first concerts, longest road trip for a show, etc. And a quiz! Great comments.
7. Utter filler... Les Coole listing favorite punk band names.
I suppose one could be labeled onanistic for re-reading our posts of yesteryear, but the Gheorghe: The Blog roster has made me chuckle and learn more consistently for longer than any publication out there.
So I looked behind me, and there was a bit of a skirmish. I wondered why the fight wasn't being stopped immediately, then I realized it was because one of the guys in the fight was a bouncer. Some graybeard bouncer was getting all he could handle from this skinny punk. Mostly a wrestling match, with a few awkward roundhouses meeting cheekbones on either scrapper. Lasted about 30 seconds, which is pretty long for a fight in a crowded show at a small venue. Graybeard got no help from his colleagues, presumably because they were preoccupied with the eddy of mosh that was closer to the stage. Amazingly, after the pair became separated, Skinny seamlessly slipped back into the crowd and everyone went about their business. Graybeard nodded a couple of times like "Good scrap," then turned his attention back to the fray.
We watched the show from some sort of safe haven between that thoroughfare behind me and the memories of my youth in the fracas in front of us. At 39, and 6'5", the thought I really don't need to be a part of THAT repeatedly registered in my head. My liver ached Wednesday morning, and the rest of my body thanked me for the damage being limited therein.
Social Distortion. Came on the scene in my world in 1990 when Rob and I saw the grainy B&W video for "Ball & Chain" whilst draining quarts of Old Mil on a random summer night in Williamsburg. Rob had the good taste and prescience to see the band's greatness in a 5:44 sample. We went to Patrick Henry Mall shortly thereafter, I bought some disposable band's meager pinnacle, he bought the Social D's eponymously titled major label debut. Rob 1, Whitney 0.
Ah, but I have reaped the benefits of his wisdom ever since. Short-term, as we put that disc on repeat and made it the permanent backdrop to six guys in a two-bedroom/one-bathroom shanty shack drinking cheap beer, watching every episode of Vice, playing a full season of Strat-o-matic, delivering pizza, not getting laid, and drinking more cheap beer. I've already told you what a great album it is, and it's as enjoyable 19 years later as it was back then.
Long-term, I'm grateful for Rob's musical insight as well. Tuesday night in Richmond at a damn fine venue call The National, Social Distortion came to kick my ass and take my name once again. I keep gettin' older, the moshing masses stay the same age, and Social D keeps on crankin', not missing one beat along the way. Mike Ness is still the same tatted up, slicked back 'do, axe-wielding frontman extraordinaire, bringing the heat for a furious 90-minute set of good old fashioned punk rock.
And really, who are the top dogs of punk these days? The icons haven't aged as well as their counterparts in other genres, quite fittingly. Joe and three Ramones are dead, Jello's gone politics, Henry Rollins is on my television, and Television never made it out of the 70's. Fugazi must have realized that charging $5 a show in Adams Morgan is the most decent and honorable road to poverty. And please don't mention the Pistols alongside these stalwarts.
Meanwhile, the resurgence of punk that we saw in the 90's has faded. Rancid and Bad Religion seemed to peter out, and only Green Day has really lasted . . . shedding its punkitude quite a bit along the way. The Murphys entertain, but really, for my money, there's nobody out there who's been doing it as long (c. 1978) or as consistently well as Social Distortion. I'm right, aren't I?
Pearl Jam thinks so, too. They've tapped the band to open for them a couple of nights next week at the Spectrum. The big halls aren't Social Distortion's milieu (and I should get my eye socked in for using the word "milieu" in the same sentence as "Social Distortion"), but even in the cavernous, concrete William & Mary Hall they ripped it pretty well in '91. Could be a good one.
Tuesday the band opened with a trio of tunes they released the same year that "Billie Jean" came out, then launched into "Sick Boys." Later, they took it up a notch with stuff to be included on an album due next year. Mike Ness has always had the same stage banter; it still has more F-words than Merriam-Webster's, amusing and inspirational in 30-second bursts. The band lost their longtime guitarist early this decade, but they sounded great again. My expectations were pretty high for the show, having seen them in Norfolk three years ago. Expectations superseded.
These guys are top of the heap in punk rock, bar none.
Best of Tuesday:
"Ring of Fire" -- still my favorite version
"Highway 101", "Reach for the Sky" -- couple of killers from 2004's Sex, Love, & Rock 'n' Roll
"Don't Drag Me Down (motherfucker)" -- the lead-in was as preachy as Mike Ness gets, a funny contrast to seeing Bono a few weeks ago: "this song's about racism and ignorance . . . 1-2-3-4"
"Prison Bound" -- Love this song. I think they played this, or I've listened to Live at the Roxy so damn much lately it's seeping into my reality.
"Ball & Chain" -- Still as good as the first time I heard it.
...closed with "Story of My Life" as they often do. Fan-fucking-tastic.
These days Rob's too old for punk rock shows two hours away on Tuesday nights. Apparently I'm not. And as much as I hung up my slam dancing shoes years ago, I don't see myself passing up any Social D tours for a long time to come. Come join me. They kick some fucking ass, people.
Nothing like a little mid-week six-pack. Nothing like a little mid-week punk rock show.
I'm breaking up the mundane workweek with a trip to the Norva tonight to see one of my all-time punk acts, Social Distortion. I credit Rob for this.
You see, once upon a time, he parlayed our Williamsburg Summer of '90 40-oz. lethargy into something worthy. Amid the dreck of that era of MTV, he identified "Ball and Chain" as potential keeper material, so after a quick jaunt to the Patrick Henry Mall, we played their S/T release. Over and over. Loudly. The first song is still one of my favorites.
In the interest of spreading the love of good music, we will throw out six suggested songs by certain bands you may or may not know much about. Not much of a time commitment, just a little something to get the flavor and get you going.
Gheorghe's Six-Pack: Social Distortion
Vitals
Where: Los Angeles, CA
When: 1978–present
Who:
Mike Ness, Jonny Wickersham, Brent Harding, David Hidalgo Jr., David Kalish... Ness's HS buddy and lead guitarist Dennis Danell died along the way, which was a big loss, but they still rock
For this edition of the Six-Pack, I am going a little away from the most obvious choices. Those would be the aforementioned "Ball and Chain," "Mommy's Little Monster," "I Was Wrong," "Story of My Life," "Sick Boys," or the cover of "Ring of Fire." All are outstanding and where beginners should start. But let's dig into the second six-pack...
Their live stuff is way way NSFW, just so's you know.
Enjoy.
"Prison Bound [Live]," Prison Bound, 1988 (from Live at the Roxy, 1998)
"So Far Away," Social Distortion, 1990
"Sometimes I Do," Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell, 1992
"Untitled," White Light White Heat White Trash, 1996
"Under My Thumb," White Light White Heat White Trash, 1996
"Reach for the Sky," Sex, Love, and Rock 'n' Roll, 2004
"I was wrong/Self destruction's got me again/I was wrong/I realize now that I was wrong" - Social Distortion from I Was Wrong.
From the grand G:TB tradition of throwing up ideas for recurring features and then letting them die on the vine comes today's episode, inspired by legendary SoCal punks, Social D. In addition to catalyzing this sure to be successful running concept, the band that brought you Ball and Chain, Prison Bound, and Story of My Life (and dozens of other rollicking classics) also triggered the following exchange, which occurred several days after I introduced the 'I Was Wrong' blogpost idea:
Teejay: I know who Social Distortion is. Rob: Okay, who are they? Teejay: The seminal punk band. Rob: You got that from Wikipedia, didn't you? Teejay (sheepishly): Yes.
I'll stipulate that my brother in blogging is several years younger than Whit and I, and a product of the hip-hop generation, but he's also a connoisseur of 80s cheese metal, so his tastes run at least a little to blazing guitars and insistent percussion. It's almost...almost unforgivable that he didn't know Social Distortion. We'll give him a pass because he's a Jets fan and needs a little tenderness right now. But he was wrong.
I was wrong - way wrong - about how bad the Washington Nationals would be in 2007, though I was hardly alone. I also purchased 12 Inches of Snow because I thought Informer was a catchy little ditty. My bad.
Whitney had a particularly ill-advised flattop-mullet during our freshman year of college, though he did it to protest his mother's admonitions about the length of his hair. Regardless, he was wrong.
The Mike Ness Files will return to this space periodically to catalogue our various ill-conceived prognostications and expectorations. Or not. I could be wrong.
------ Whitney's Addendum: Well, I was even more wrong about the Washington Nationals this year. I'll admit it. I penned a ridiculous piece comparing them to (mostly) terrible sitcoms. I bashed and mocked, then not only felt stupid when there were nine teams as bad or worse than the Nats, but felt a karmic beatdown when the Nationals contributed directly to my team of choice failing to make the playoffs. I was way wrong; I'm not saying Jim Bowden was right, but I was wrong.
I've been dead wrong for several seasons in betting that the Wizards won't make the playoffs; perhaps that's also cosmic backlash for this former season ticket-holder, current turncoat . . . but if TJ wants the bet, I'll make it again for this year.
Good people, it's time to come back from the beach and head back to school. It's time to set aside the smooth sounds of oceanside lite rock stations and cruise down the dial to something a little less Bobby McFerrin (not that there's anything wrong with it) and a little more rock and rollish.
It's time to shelve the ♫Party Playa♫ (as seen at right) by Hasbro or Ronco that seemed like a terrific idea (weatherproof iPod player for the beach) but fell short of expectations as low fidelity and volumes precluded real enjoyment of the music.
It's time for Music Month, our annual September pilgrimage into the world of audio utopia. In addition to the various information and insight the writers at G:TB will be bringing you on topics as diverse as college football and . . . college basketball, we'll also shed a little light on the sounds that are flowing out of our subwoofers and through our noggins. There will be reviews and recommendations, silly games and puff pieces, Teejay (not Rob) filler, and maybe even a long-awaited conclusion to the Cauc Hop tournament. Hell, we might even post a review of Chinese Democracy.
Because nothing says "fresh, exciting and new" like a retread of a post written in 2007, that's what we're launching Music Month with today. At Rob's suggestion, we're re-printing (with permission) a piece from Misery Loves Company in February of that year. (Some of the individual references are therefore dated, but it shouldn't diminish the point too much.)
As baseball season rounds third and heads for home, here's a little tip of the cap to folks from George Martin to Billy Martin, from Branch Rickey to Ricky Rubin. Enjoy the month . . .
_____________
The thought that goes into the assembling of a baseball lineup is not unlike the compilation of music tracks into an album, and I refer to the entire gamut of “albums” – from calculated, professional releases on major labels to the personal touches of a burned disc for a fellow music appreciator. If you subscribe to a few time-worn tenets, you’ll be constructing playoff-contending recordings every time.
1. Lead-Off: In baseball, getting the lead-off man on base is an obviously enormous factor in offensive success. It’s no less a given that any LP, 8-track, cassette, CD, or playlist absolutely needs some fire from Track 1. The tone-setters, the top spot holders may not be the very best in the lineup, but they must present a positive portent of things to come. “Runnin’ with the Devil” comes to mind right off the bat. Speed and power? Even better. Think “Safe European Home” off The Clash’s second album or Pearl Jam’s “Go.” “Thunder Road,” “Begin the Begin,” “Peter Piper,” “Gimme Shelter,” “Lust for Life,” “Rain on the Scarecrow,” and especially “Blitzkrieg Bop” are vintage intros. Less mainstream first hitters include Spoon’s “Everything Hits at Once,” the DBT’s “Where the Devil Don’t Stay,” and my all-time favorite: “Jagged,” by the Old 97’s.
The lead-off spot should certainly make something of a statement. Just ask Lenny Dykstra about leading off Game 3 of the Series. “Wild Flower” was stronger noise about The Cult’s new sound than calling the album Electric even was, and “Hells Bells” was a brilliant, eye-opening salve to fans lamenting Bon Scott’s loss. “Smells Like Teen Spirit”? The Rickey Henderson of album openers. If you’re constructing your own record, you know what to do here.
2. The Two-Spot: Not quite the pressure-packed position that lead-off is, it’s nearly as integral a slot, one that can quickly undo a bit of good after a decent start if you’re not careful. (See GIDP-worthy tunes like the Chilis’ “Aeroplane,” Bruce’s “Soul Driver,” the Stones’ “Fight,” or Jimmy’s “Baby’s Gone Shoppin’” for Robby Alomar-ish examples of highly disappointed epiphanies that occur moments into Track 2, marking a decidedly downward turn for the whole lineup.) Conversely, a strong second hitter can duplicate or even outdo the spark of its predecessor. It can segue between the initial hit and the real meat of the order like a Mark Bellhorn or Peter Gabriel’s “No Self Control,” or it can be a focal point like Derek Jeter, “Paranoid Android,” “Ma & Pa,” “Alex Chilton,” or “Remedy.” The sublime “Shake Your Rump” is a de facto lead-off, kicking off Paul’s Boutique after the messin’-about opener; one of the great second tracks of all time. Whether you’re scripting a starting nine or a songlist, remember: this spot can be the calm before the storm, but you can’t hide a sub-par entity here. Continuity is the key. No letdowns.
And for some bizarre reason, Ween’s second song from their masterpiece Chocolate & Cheese, “Spinal Meningitis (Got Me Down)” – a creepy, disturbingly mesmerizing tune from an otherwise enjoyable collection – reminds me a whole lot of Mickey Morandini.
3. The Third Hitter: In baseball and especially men’s league softball, the 3-spot in the lineup is considered the place for the best hitter on the team. From Ruth to Musial to Mays to Clemente to Yaz to Papi to Beltr — uh, Pujols. (See, Carlos, this is why you should want to bat third.) A combination of pure skill and big-time pop, it’s a great place to look to get a bead on how the whole collection performs. The 2003 Mets’ third hitters posted a combined OPS of .733, while the same year’s Braves’ 3-men put up a 1.010 mark. There you go.
When Edgardo Alfonzo was thrown into the third spot in 2000, the formerly prototypical 2-hitter put up serious 3-spot numbers (.324/.425/.542) and was no small factor in helping propel the Mets to the World Series. When injuries and slumps plagued him the following season (.243/.322/.403), he slid back to the second spot – leaving this critical space to be occupied by an assortment of otherwise suited hitters (Piazza, Ventura, even a Shinjo or Agbayani). The dynamic was lost, and the team lost a dozen more games in ’01.
Track 3 stand-outs represent some of the best songs on some of the best releases in rock & roll history: “So. Cent. Rain,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “With or Without You,” “Hey Joe,” “Breaking the Girl,” “Roxanne,” “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Alive,” “I Shot the Sheriff,” “Wave of Mutilation,” “Love Me Two Times,” “Sugar Magnolia” . . . and it goes on seemingly indefinitely. Records from the past decade or two don’t disappoint in their 3-slot either, with “A Shot in the Arm,” “Brick,” “Crash into Me,” “Fell On Black Days,” “Float On,” “Take Me Out,” “Wonderwall,” and “Last Goodbye” among the many examples. If you’re compiling your own music for a release, put the tune you’re most proud of in the 3-hole. If you’re making a mix, find the super-solid single that defines the collection best, your .300/30/120 guy, and chuck it in this spot.
4. Clean-Up: Cue the Wood-a-been: “Let me tell you what Melba Toast is packing right here.” Anybody who knows anything about baseball knows all about the clean-up hitter and what his job is. Pummel the horsehide, drive in runs. Dial 9. And so the fourth spots of box scores throughout baseball history are rife with big, burly beasts with names like Greenberg, Killebrew, Robinson, McCovey, Jackson, Murray, and, say, Carlos Delgado and Manny Ramirez. You may not know too much about Home Run Baker, but you don’t have to ask where his manager put him in the lineup.
It may not be as obvious that rock & roll records do much the same thing with their own clean-up spots. The 4-hole is very frequently the post for the big punch; if your album intends to kick any sort of ass, you’ll want a three-song build-up and a knockout punch on Track 4. It doesn’t always have to be a thunderous musical blitz of a song (though it often is), but it definitely needs an eyebrow-raising, palpable wallop of lyrical, musical or any kind of force. Observe: “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love,” “Walk This Way,” “Iron Man,” “Stairway to Heaven,” “Simple Man,” “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking,” “Southern Man,” “Pump It Up,” “Jump in the Fire,” “Peace Frog,” “Once in a Lifetime,” “Bullet the Blue Sky,” “Zero,” “Little T&A,” “You Can’t Put Your Finger On It,” “Rock the Casbah.” We’re talkin’ some fuckin’ muscle.
Clean-up isn’t always going to compete with the 3-hole for absolute best, but it should deliver the goods. Louder, stronger, and bigger are recurrent descriptors. “Breed” isn’t the best song on Nevermind, quite obviously, but it may rock the hardest. “You Got Lucky” is a cooler tune, but Petty cranks up his gee-tar on “Change of Heart” in perfect Song 4 style. “Blister In the Sun” has more angst, but “Add It Up” is the frenzied, f-word rocker that will knock you for a loop more readily. Even albums featuring less of a hard edge kick it up for the clean-up track; “Don’t Let’s Start” and “Buddy Holly” are about as rowdy as geek rock gets, and Dave Matthews’ “Rhyme & Reason” is significantly tougher than much of his other work (part of which makes it one of my DMB favorites). The Pogues have done harder and louder songs than “Fairytale of New York,” but few anthems have as much grit and venom. If you have a rocker, and not everyone does (James Taylor has historically had no hits with the fourth track, and that’s no slag, but no coincidence), this is clearly where it goes.
5. The 5-Hole: After turning the corner at #4, there’s less structure from here on out, but there are still more guidelines to the five-hole than there are later in the order. A big RBI guy, some pop, the player you can’t quite justify putting at 3 or 4. That’s not to say the talent wanes considerably: Darryl Strawberry and Don Baylor both excelled in this spot in 1986; Carlton Fisk batted fifth more than any other place in the lineup; the Township’s greatest American hero manned the 5-post throughout this past season. Similarly, don’t let your recording suffer after knocking their socks off with 1-4. “Been Caught Stealing,” “The Weight,” “Higher Ground,” “Welcome to Paradise,” “Mr. Brownstone,” “Tumbling Dice,” “Clocks,” and “Born to Run” are greatest-hits quality tunes that someone decided to hold off on until the fifth place in the order.
6. Sixth and Beyond: Here’s where it starts to become far more of a grey area for baseball managers and record producers. Spots six through nine in the batting order are places for the less prolific batsmen, and there’s less strategy to go along with less skill. On the musical side of things, it gets even fuzzier; over the course of the last few decades, the evolution of musical media (LP’s to tapes to CD’s to mp3’s) meant a lifting of the size restrictions that have shaped album structures, so what was important in 1978 (putting “Can’t Stand Losing You” as the #6 track so it’d be the first song on Side B) is lost in the modern configuration. Now, in fact, you can have a 25-song CD that could mirror an entire roster (a rainy day post of the future?) and an even longer mp3 playlist. If you’re creating something on your own, this is where it starts to be less formulaic and more personal; it’s not to say that your own touches shouldn’t grace the early portion of the collection, but sticking to the general rules of thumb above may well take your creation it to another level of enjoyment. There’s one last rule, though . . .
7. Last in the Order: Every batting order could use a steady sort in the last spot (the last spot before the pitcher in the National League) to keep things rolling along: a Butch Hobson, a Scott Brosius, a Mark Lemke, and other people who’ve been cursed in this space. While it can be a place to hide defensive whizzes with weak bats (God knows guys like Pokey Reese and Rafael Santana weren’t in there for their plate work), a little something down there can mean a lot. The ’05 White Sox got significantly more production out of their #9 spot than they did out of their 7 and 8 hitters – you say bad managing, I say World Series title.
In music, however, it’s a little different – it’s more like a closer role. The last track on a record should be memorable, even if it’s in a weird way. Sgt. Pepper’s is considered by many a classic among classics, but if it ended with “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite,” instead of “A Day in the Life,” it wouldn’t do itself much justice, now would it? It can be a gentle fade-out after a riveting set (“Good Feeling” or “Here Comes a Regular”); a seven-minute intrigue (“Biko” or “Riders on the Storm”); a scratchy feast of guitar-driven psychedilia (“Are You Experienced?”); a rare cover (“Superman”); a hidden pop single after an hour of punk genius (“Train in Vain”); it an even be a ridiculously lyricked, volume-tinkered end to it all (“Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others”). As long as there’s some kind of hook, something to stand out as a final stamp on the album, you’re good to go.
Make it count, as folks did with cuts like “Purple Rain,” “The Ocean,” “American Girl,” “Who Are You,” “Fools Gold,” “Four Leaf Clover,” “40,” “Rock and Roll All Nite,” “Jungleland,” “Wendell Gee,” “Rockin’ in the Free World,” “Road to Nowhere,” “Tin Cup Chalice,” and plenty more. Elvis Costello used to really know how to end an album – consider that “Watching the Detectives,” “Radio, Radio,” and “Peace, Love & Understanding” closed his first three records. It’s just a little bit of marketing to let the last notes lingering in the listener’s head be among the most lasting.
So there you go. The last thing I’ll add is an example of what I feel is a perfectly cast album of the quasi-modern era in this vein. In my mind, Social Distortion’s self-titled major label debut incorporates all of the elements that I mentioned. Let’s take a gander.
Social Distortion: Social Distortion 1. So Far Away 2. Let It Be Me 3. Story of My Life 4. Sick Boys 5. Ring Of Fire 6. Ball and Chain 7. It Coulda Been Me 8. She's a Knockout 9. Place in My Heart 10. Drug Train
A killer opener – one of the sharpest in all of punk rock. Not a bit of letdown with Track 2. #3 brilliance; I think Rolling Stone called it the anti-“My Way” song. Something powerful in the clean-up hole – not quite the most furious of their tunes, but one of their all-timers . . . followed up by one of the hardest and greatest Johnny Cash covers ever done. “Ball & Chain” at the six-spot might seem out of place, considering that it was the single/video, but I think it’s about right. It’s always solid, but maybe it’s lost some pop over the years for me (especially because I think it’s a slight re-working of their earlier tune “Prison Bound”). It’s certainly closer to Cliff Floyd than Ray Knight, to be sure. 7-9 aren’t filler, not at all, but they’re well-placed. The closer, “Drug Train,” is a driving, bluesy number with a different feel than the rest of the album, and a fine send-off after one of the most spectacular albums of . . . Rob’s and my Strat-o-matic, 40-ouncers, and rock & roll filled summer in Williamsburg, Virginia – if not all time.
After the last set of Ghoogles, I was perusing algorenet for some college hoops knowledge, and ending up over at our friends Storming the Floor. The post wasn't so much hoops fodder as it was a suggestion that folks start using Google Analytics to track (tepid) action/traffic at your site. Well, why not I thought...SiteMeter had a good run, and while it won't be forcibly removed from G:TB Island, I thought we'd give Cyberdyne Systems yet another way to Big Brother us...
Well, it's only been a few weeks, but I would say Google Analytics is a rousing success. I know how to use about 1/20th of what the application offers, but that's all I need to know. Without freddy adu, here then are the brand spanking new Ghoogles (thanks to the supercomputer at Google Analytics):
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a story of a foster child with pointers from a single mom october 2008 it should take you to a post on smore blog that might interest you
a-rod jerk
abdullah abdullah boutros boutros
addicted to love robert palmer travesty
alabama cowbells
alex flanagan photos
alfonso ribeiro shirtless
alicia machado sex with roommate
and i didn't have to use my ak t shirt
andrea kramers jackets
andreea gheorghe
andy rautins mullet
anyone have that clip, perhaps you'd be more comfortable at one of our lower stakes tables
apostrophic
argyll endzone
ariza
arizona football player kicked off for fisting girl video
arm tattoo r.i.p.jed.
ass-hole o mio 4
bareback site:blogspot.com
baseball lineup music
bbw ladies
beach boys call mick jagger chicken shit
berzerker making fuck
big john saunders and smooth jessie
big words that mean annoying
bill murray space jam humming song
bills vs browns preview 2009
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bobby abreu and girlfriends miss venezuela
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brandon britt william and mary
bull durham william blake video clip
canes football chants
carrying a team
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charlie barkley new albany ms
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chiropractic flux capacitor
christmas carol christmas eve washington dc
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christmas time in washington america's hometown
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cj spiller daughter at final game
cj spiller's dughter
clemson women's rowing team photo camel toe
click clack what does that mean
coen brothers porn superbad
college football officials blogs
connie desaulniers & divorce
cop eating turkey leg
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cousin eddie wore white shoes
cowbells football
craig austrie wedding date
curt schilling’s wife
dan devendorf
dan ruland
darius marshall nfl
dating alex arias
dave winfield sued by
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devo deluxe
devo freedom of choice
devo or mothersbaugh or casale
dick jauron fire marshall bill
dick rambone blog
dick's picks blogspot
dickie hemric wife family
dicks
didn't even have to use his a.k.
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ditka vs god in a golf game
does the guy really draw ups whiteboard
don marcari a few good men
donovan mcnabb+sister
dru joyce height 4'10
dublin middle school yearbook pictures
ebirt og
eddie money blogspot
endzone argyles
erick berry south carolina pics
every halloween the trees are filled with underwear
every halloween the tress are filled with underwear
excessive celebration penalty coming to highs school
first time cock
flaming lips sell out merrill lynch
flat screen tv thefts at walmart california
flux capacitor chiropractor
flux capacitor fluxing
fuck blogspot
fuck you cole hamels
fucking irish cheerleaders
game 6 over under
garth at odowe games
garth moose escapes jail
gemini marketing kent hrbek
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good payable soccer picks
got some canes over here audio
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greek zach collaros
greg mcelroy girlfriend
have you heard about the lonesome loser released
have you heard the story of the lonely loser beaten by the queen of hearts
A recent survey conducted by the Clarence Institute of Finding Shit Out (CIFSO™) shed some light on some of the foundations of musical event attendance by the gheorghies through the years. Its intent was to allow GTB writers and readers alike to develop a contextual understanding of some of the posts and comments where rock and roll music is the topic. I dare say that we have learned a lot.
Note: if you consider yourself a gheorghie (a. get help, but b. . . .) and you were not surveyed, please do not take offense. CIFSO standards and practices ensure a level of disorganization, gaps, scattershotness, haphazardry, outdated e-mail addresses, and erroneous data collection. By our very design we incorporate a percentage error plus or minus 37. It's what we do.
On to the findings.
We wanted to learn about concerts attended. It's our belief at CIFSO that something as simple as the purchase of Snow's Twelve Inches of Snow is an egregious music error, but it's one easily made (sort of) and without much consequence. (Like twelve bucks or so.) It should not reflect too poorly on the purchaser nor render his opinion of Social Distortion's major label debut moot and meaningless.
Going to a show, though? Well, mistakes can be made, but in our statistical expert opinion, it's a far more telling barometer of the quality of rock music taste. Or lack thereof. It says a lot about you if you have seen Billy Joel 27 times. Or moe. Or Ned's Atomic Dustbin. Or Garth Brooks. Or the Weather Girls. And the knowledge of whom you pay and/or travel to see rock it out helps serve our reading audience with background information. Let's face it, reading Dave's well-crafted post from yesterday with the backstory that he either: (a) pays to see Jersey Shore cover bands meticulously cover old songs while he hates the original versions of those old songs, (b) was an indie pioneer and saw the Flaming Lips in a tiny room in college, or (c) got a hard rock band tattooed on his leg and then went to see them more than any other act . . . well, the more you know . . .
Anyway, that stuff plus the gheorghies' original foundations of seeing music once upon a time, as well as how far each concert-goer was willing to travel for a certain act all makes for good intel . . . for filtering out the bullcrap of some yahoo who broke their cherry on Warrant and made connecting flights to see Toby Keith.
Here we go.
The first question we asked of the GTBers was what their first concert was. Who took your rock show virginity? You always remember your first. Unless you're Dave.
G:TB's First Concerts
TR: Whitesnake/Great White Danimal: O.M.D. opening for Thompson Twins '85 Marls: Herman's Hermits/The Turtles Squeaky: The Cars, Hampton Beach, NH Zman: John Denver Dave: either Sting (Dream of the Blue Turtles) or R.E.M. (Fables of the Reconstruction) with the Feelies, 1985 Mark: Warped Tour (Fishbone/Rancid headliners) rob: Chicagoooo!!! Shlara: The Jacksons (as in Michael and his brothers) Victory Tour at RFK Whitney: The Monkees (w/ Herman’s Hermits); Grateful Dead a few months later. Apparently I was born during WWII... TJ: Steve Winwood, 1990, SPAC (Saratoga Performing Arts Center – great venue). Warren Zevon opened for Winwood. That is correct – Warren Zevon opened for Steve Winwood. Almost 30 years later I’m still baffled by this. KQ: Go-Go's at Kings Dominion. BoDeans opened. Mr. KQ: Peter Frampton Clarence: Eddie and the Cruisers at Tony Mart’s, followed quickly by Stillwater
CIFSO can draw some interesting conclusions here, both individually and as a group. But we won't. That's not what we do! Instead we will let you do that in the comments.
We followed that question with this one: What's the furthest you ever traveled for a rock and roll show?
G:TB's Longest Road Trip for a Show
Zman: NY to Boston to see BRMC with Squeaky. NJ to Boston to see Jane's Addiction, Dinosaur Jr, and Living Colour with Squeaky but he didn't get the tickets so we saw a bluegrass band instead. So 225 to 250 miles. Whitney: San Francisco for Outside Lands Music Festival ’14. Non-festival: Wilco in Brooklyn with Squeaky or the RnR HoF opener in '95 with Evan. Squeaky: While living in VA saw a band at the Crocodile Club in Seattle. Can't remember the band but it was an offshoot of Mudhoney. And also 54-40 in Vancouver. Mark: Smokin Grooves Tour - Cleveland, OH (Jurassic 5, The Roots, Outkast)
rob: Does JazzFest count? If not that, we saw King Sunny Ade at Millennium Park in Chicago last month. Shlara: Foo Fighters in London Danimal: U2 in Chicago Marls: Don Ho in Honolulu TR: Saw a Panic run at the Wiltern Theatre in LA in '01 TJ: OK, well, if you count Latham as my home, I guess it’s the Tribe Called Quest concert I saw at William and Mary. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever traveled to see a concert – I’ve always seen concerts in close proximity to where I was living at the time. [Ed. Note: Lame.] KQ: That's probably Sister Hazel in Atlanta.
Mr. KQ: B-52’s, Orlando, FL circa 1981 Dave: Daytona! Primus/Salt 'n' Pepa/Ugly Kid Joe/Naughty By Nature [Ed. Note: a couple of other gheorghies were there as well, so this might be their actual pick] Clarence: Spinal Tap, Cleveland / Detroit; Nick Rivers with special guest Autobahn in Germany; Infant Sorrow at the Greek
As CIFSO could have predicted (but didn't), answers ranged from inter-continental to barely across town. Interesting, mildly.
Finally, the crack engineers of this survey felt that its centerpiece had to be the band each of the group has seen most. There are few truer gauges of your musical taste than the artists you have plunked down cash and gone to see the most. One stray visit to a Dead show is one thing, but if you have seen 73 Phish concerts, we can assume more things about you. Prejudices are created, like chances are you don't think of "Ringwald" when I say "Molly." You get it. This is like KGB. Answer questions, please, comrade.
G:TB's Musical Acts Seen the Most in Concert
Okay, children, it's time for a game. Match the gheorghie to their most-seen band!
The gheorghies: (Ed. Note: The Gheorghies is a good name for a band . . . if it's not already taken)
Clarence – Danimal – Dave – KQ – Mark – Marls –Mr. KQ – rob
– Shlara – Squeaky – TJ – TR – Whitney – Zman
The concerts (and how many times):
- U2 - 6 times - Aerosmith (3 times between 1994 and 1998) - Probably Pearl Jam, though Carbon Leaf and Sister Hazel are up there. (I could count but I was under the impression there would be no math.) - Drive-By Truckers (5 or 6 times and Jason Isbell twice). Allmans 4 or 5 times. - Widespread Panic (35-40x) - Either Old 97’s or They Might Be Giants. If you count Rhett solo shows, it's probably the former. (8ish) - Wilco (~17 times) - Has to be The Cult! (7?) - Either The Allman Bros or Springsteen (Sorry, 70’s and early 80s a bit of a blur) 4 or 5 each - The Roots (7-8 times) - Foo Fighters (like 8 or 9 times). Everyone else is only 4-5 times: U2, Grateful Dead, Bruce, Old 97's, Glen Hansard - Reverend Horton Heat (4 or 5 times) - Bob Mould (7 times) Widespread Panic, Echo and the Bunnymen, New Order (4 times)
- Either The Zack Attack or Wyld Stallyns, maybe 69 times each . . . although I spent a lot of time seeing Dr. Fünke’s 100 Percent Natural Good-Time Family Band Solution, much of which I don't remember thanks to the forget-me-nows
Make your picks at home and wait for the Answer Key to published in this space soon. Good luck!
CIFSO's survey is complete. Please do not find fault in the process. Because there is none. Just learn about your co-bloggers, judge if you must, mock as a rule. Enjoy. (And go see more shows.)
We missed this on Friday, but it's big to gentlemen of a certain age. Social Distortion released their first studio album in 15 years, entitled "Born to Kill". And the boys sound pretty, pretty good.
Punk rock gets a fair amount of play around the gheorghosphere, and it certainly did over the last few days. Hope you took a few minutes to watch tomorrow's community leaders play the role of patient boy.
I usually click on Google News sometime in the morning to make sure I haven't missed anything. That said, lately these days my scans have been fewer and more cursory. The news is too bad, too ugly, too depressing. Even the non-Trump tribulations are items like the fact that 34 years ago today, the space shuttle Challenger exploded.
I do, however, enjoy the modern technology feature of search returns and news feeds being tailored to taste. And as such, I get punk rock news -- of which there is not a ton, mind you. This isn't Kings Road, 1977.
One of today's headlines, though, made me chuckle. To begin with, punk band names are the best. And then there's the unintended, more literal interpretation.
Unfamiliar eyes would be rather horrified. Which is, of course the intent of it all. God love the Circle Jerks. They were even name-checked in a Camper van Beethoven song in 1985.
Some punk and hardcore acts take it a bit far, going full-offensive, but those aren't particularly gheorghey. Even the Dead Kennedys rile some people beyond musical consideration. For now, we asked local DJ Les Coole to check in with his favorite punk rock band names of all time:
X
Misfits
The Clash
Social Distortion
Butthole Surfers
Meat Puppets
Circle Jerks
Bad Religion
The Slits
The Damned
Therapy?
Slightly Stoopid
The Runaways
Suicidal Tendencies
Dirty Rotten Imbeciles
Buzzcocks
Germs
Fugazi (Fouled Up, Got Ambushed, Zipped In)
Cock Sparrer
Richard Hell and the Voidoids
The Cramps
Random Idiots
The Stooges
Scrod Rocket
Rancid
Pogue Mahone
Black Flag
999
Southern Culture on the Skids
Agent Orange
Minor Threat
Pavement
Ween
The Skids
The Ruts
The Dead Milkmen
Ramones
Bad Brains
GWAR
[20 bands that start with Anti-...]
The Boomtown Rats
Flogging Molly
The Sex Pistols
Napalm Death
Bikini Kill
Greasetruck
The All-American Rejects
Agnostic Front
Generation X
The Hives
Killing Joke
Hole
Sham 69
The Vibrators
Dead Kennedys
Beastie Boys
Now more than ever, rebellion seems about right. Anarchy in the GTB.
On the third day of Gheorghemas,
Big Gheorghe gave to me
Three Punk Rock Playlists Two Digits Throughout History And the debut of Mac McFis-ty
On Friday, November 15, 2013, I unveiled a the first in a 5-part segment on punk rock. The quintet of posts would be a love letter to the music genre, as I hold punk in very high regard. (Clarence’s loves are known as the 3 P’s: punk, pilsner, and, well, this is a family blog, so we’ll leave it at that.)
I didn’t reveal the breakdown of the five posts at the time, but here’s what it came down to (click the links to review if you're killing time):
Ah, the best laid plans of squirrels and men. Part 2 arrived on the G:TB scene in August of 2015. Reminiscent of the Cauc Hop final. But a hair better than Whitney’s still to-be-delivered Day 12 from last year. Or TR’s never-to-be-completed Topps baseball card review.
And so today I determine not to drag this out any further. It’s not all that fascinating a series of posts, and if this year has taught us anything, we just don’t know how long we have on this orb. I’d hate to have our intern have to finish this for me posthumously. Here we go, Parts 3, 4, and 5. In pieces. In reverse. Punk rock.
Holiday in Clarencia: Punk Chronicles Vol. 3 -1980's until today-
Punk was preheated in the late 1960’s by The Stooges and MC5 and the like, prepped a bit in the early 70’s by the New York Dolls and T. Rex and friends, and then served up at the end of the decade by the horde of acts listed in Chapter 1 of this bus wreck and beyond. So what happened next?
The early 80’s saw some continuity; The Ramones, Dead Kennedys, and Black Flag kept on keepin’ on, while newcomers like X, Descendents, Minor Threat, and Social Distortion assumed the mantle. But… a number of bands previously punk now fell more into the new wave synth and melody, even they retained their punk f-u sensibilities. Devo, I’m looking at you. The Jam began flexing muscles that had a whiff of Motown. Blondie went pop, and for a second, hip-hop. Talking Heads got really good, but went to world music and a dozen other genres. And a bunch of groups who were pretty much punk could better be labeled something else. Bad Brains (hardcore), The Misfits (horror rock), The Cramps (psychobilly), and a whole lot of music that now got called “alternative rock.”
Hell, there are way, way too many categories and tons of crossover to where it’s pointless to even try: pop-punk, underground, indie, garage rock, post-punk, ska-core, 15 kinds of metal, alt-whatever, grunge, and just rock and roll. Random Idiots were as punk as they got, but the label filed them under “death reggae” and “folk speed metal.” What a mess.
So let’s not get hung up on rigid genre characterization. Let’s listen to some music. Enjoy the Spotify playlist below that is compiled of 69 Punk or Punkish tunes from 1980-2016. There are the usual suspects (Dropkick Murphys, Green Day, The Minutemen, Fugazi), but more than a few random surprises. Feedback and favorites welcomed.
It’s not really safe for work. You figured that, I figure.
Boy, would I be a lot more optimistic if I were following TJ's 4-4 weeks than his 6-2 and Russell's 7-1 prognostications. There's little fun in my actually spending a great deal of thought on these, so we'll channel Diane Chambers this morning. She won football pools by selecting teams in non-standard ways. Among other selection processes, one week she won by choosing which city had a better symphony. And here we go, except that I don't know much about symphony music, so there's a tweak.
Pitt at Georgetown Aaron Gray is still gimpy and the Hoyas are surging, but more importantly, Marvin Gaye is from DC and Rusted Root is from Pittsburgh. Advantage, Gaye. Georgetown.
Indiana at Michigan State Cougar vs. Madonna, circa 1985. "Rain On the Scarecrow" vs. "Dress You Up." Cougar. Hoosiers.
Georgia Tech at Virginia The Jackets are zipping up the ACC standings of late, yuk yuk yuk, and the Cavs were strained against Miami, yuk yuk yuk, but this should be a good showdown, like, say, The Black Crowes vs. Dave Matthews Band. We'll take DMB and UVA. (They also win in the Johannesburg U. vs. Cape Town Tech match-up.)
Stanford at UCLA The Kingston Trio hailed from Palo Alto. 1,000,000 rock bands emanated from L.A., from The Doors to Social Distortion to the Black-Eyed Peas. Bruins. Duh.
Syracuse at Providence You know what musical act hailed from Syracuse? None. Bobcat Goldthwait does, though. Chuck Mangione and Wendy O. Williams are/were from Rochester, of course. You know who formed while attending the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence? Talking Heads. Winner. Providence.
Texas at Oklahoma Willie Nelson and Spoon against Vince Gill and Toby Keith. I'm going with the former, and so should you. Every time. Texas.
North Carolina at Maryland Should be an awesome showdown; the Terps are surging of late, and Carolina is a title contender. The Connells should squeak one out at Joan Jett's place. Tar Heels.
Wisconsin at Ohio State Big time Big Ten match-up, not unlike the powerhouses . . . Violent Femmes against Devo. Like them both plenty, though neither got much respect. Add it up or whip it? Whip it. OSU.
There's a school of thought that music, and any form of artistic expression like it, should be unencumbered from linear measurement. It is simply one person's or one group of persons' creative output. As I have said here and elsewhere for years, art is art, and as such there can be no universal good or bad; there's just shit you like and shit you don't.
Singer extraordinaire Neko Case feels a bit like this when it comes to the categorization of music:
There's a contrary school of thought -- the Econ class, if you will -- that would insist that the moment said art is placed for sale into the capitalist economy, valuation becomes necessary, and with that categorization, rankings, and good/bad assessments follow.
As much as I do stand by my take above, I also look at it simply like this: Most people lack the time, interest, and requisite years of comparative exposure to dig in on any piece of art (I mean rock and/or roll music for the purposes of this post) and do better to refer to someone else's recommendations. Reviews, rankings, and lists -- including the Les Coole year-end playlists, can be viewed as having someone else do the legwork for you busy, hard-working folks. It's the way a novice listener will learn that even though Exile on Main Street and Black and Blue are separated by just four years, there's a vast difference in lasting quality between the two records, so they should proceed directly to the former.
It's an inherently fallible concept, leaving it to some other person to gauge how much you'll like a song or an album. Read reviews of Sandinista! in 1980 or Paul's Boutique in 1989. (Or Exile in 1972, amazingly enough. Lester Bangs called it "the worst studio album the Stones have ever made.") People get it wrong, especially critics with bloated egos.
But music reviews with numerical scoring designations have their place. Always have.
I myself gravitate to amalgams like metacritic.com, aggregates of prominent reviews from around the world. That way a one-off pan from some cranky critic only affects the overall score a tiny bit (mean, median, and mode, but not range), whereas if that one critic wrote for your go-to ragsheet, you might miss Social Distortion and go after 12 Inches of Snow.
Anyway, the reason I bring it up is that I haven't -- if ever, it hasn't been often -- seen such unanimity on that site for any album.
Wow.
The New York Times (100) -a bold, cathartic, challenging masterpiece.
Pitchfork (100) - Fiona Apple’s fifth record is unbound, a wild symphony of the everyday, an unyielding masterpiece. No music has ever sounded quite like it.
Paste (97) - Fiona Apple is Mesmerizing Beyond Belief on Fetch the Bolt Cutters; the singer’s brilliant fifth album is eerily clairvoyant and brash in the most extraordinary way
Variety (96) -It may be way early to say it’s the most satisfying album of the year, but if there are any more to come along this good, 2020 is not going to feel like such a waste of time after all.
Boston Globe (90) -sense of awe giving it a defiant energy. ... A thrill ride.
The AV Club (100) -a zenith of liberation and experimentation
Consequence of Sound (100) -an Untethered Masterpiece
The Guardian (100) -a glorious eruption
Glide Magazine (100) -triumphant; the album exudes freedom, it exudes breaking constraints, it exudes Fiona Apple, and it might just be the album that we look back on when we think back to this COVID-19 era.
The Line of Best Fit (100) -Albums like this feel important because they unflinchingly capture the smorgasbord of life. On the other hand… releases like this don’t happen often, so why squander the moment? Fuck it. Fetch the bolt cutters. This feels special.
Exclaim (100) -The scope of Fetch the Bolt Cutters' meaning, its infinite feeling, will likely take years to fully absorb. An album like this doesn't come often, and an artist like Apple will never come again
Dig in here for more, and for links to the actual reviews.
Here's my thought on it, after listening to it 4 or 5 times since Friday. Nearly every review says something similar, but in more flowery, SAT (RIP) terms:
Fiona Apple recorded this in her house, and she incorporates some unorthodox instrumentation (whacking kitchen utensils as percussion) and sounds (dogs barking and washing machines washing) into a mix of her enviably pretty vocals, her piano/keyboard, and a few other instruments. The lyrics, issued in lovely song, aggressive chant, or spoken word, are Fiona Apple-style rebellious and resentful, angry and not only not taking your shit any more, but calling you on the carpet. The poetry is as impressive as her otherworldly voice. The music is decidedly not studio-grade -- in a mostly great, D.I.Y. way, which is what the fuss seems to be mostly about. Tom Waits in the 80's sort of stuff. Ultimately, I like but don't love it. I am drawn to hookier melodies than she offers. I do appreciate its style and merit; I just don't know how much I'll come back to it in the years to come.
Not a review. Just another Dear Diary moment from Les Coole and/or Whitney.
After the last set of Ghoogles, I was perusing algorenet for some college hoops knowledge, and ending up over at our friends 
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