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Dude Jams – How to Abuse Everything


Dude Jams
How To Abuse Everything
ADD Records (Currently only available on iTunes but Physical Copies Available Soon)

Punk rock history taught me that the movement, the music and the scene started with a serious desire to say fuck the man and had a bit of crass humor. At the very least, the Sex Pistols may have been all about Anarchy in the UK or they might have just been a bunch of filthy jokesters. The Ramones played fast and loud, but let’s face it, the songs were also light-hearted and amusing. The Clash didn’t really have any sense of humor in the music or on stage though, but they were still the greatest band to ever come out of England. That’s sorta besides the point. Over time, punk rock factioned off into two schools. There was the crude side of things, with songs about fucking, drinking and doing stupid shit and there was the more serious, politically minded and social conscience people. One side took to the standard set of power chords and 4/4 tempos. The other created a litany of new experiments to where, only the ideas of revolution and fighting back really stayed put (notable exceptions to this include Strike Anywhere, Anti-Flag and Rise Against, the latter two becoming major label darlings for the mall punk revolution).

Growing up, I spent some time in the drunk punk scene for a little while. It was full of a lot of beer drinking, dorky looking, working class dudes and some pretty hard looking women who were, for the most part, nearly nonexistent. It was an alright time, but it was definitely a time of excessive drinking and total thoughtless anarchy, crammed in the hours after my 9-5 job and on weekends. It all came crashing down and I quickly abandoned that scene. The music was never the point. It was mostly about hanging out with a group of friends I had at the time.

Today, punk rock is a million dollar industry. Indie bands look all glossy and pretty and it’s hard to say where so many bands get their influence from. Musically, it’s a bit more than The Ramones, but the content is even more vacant than anything I can attest to with confidence. Mostly it looks like hair cuts and make-up are the center of it all. This music, amazingly did not come out of the alcohol fuel raged of the previously mentioned working class, street punk scene. The music is more closely related to the post-punk, proto-emo of the early nineties. It’s just fueled with a lot less substance and meaning. So, it begs the question, which scene, which path really kept true to the essence of punk rock?

Dude Jams sits somewhere on the line of punk rock bands made up of dudes, playing to dudes, singing songs about dudes. Clearly, they are after all called Dude Jams. And what do they do? They pick up guitars, write songs with power chords that have a bit of a hook to them, sing about getting fucked up (i.e. songs titled “Fucked Up”), drinking too much (“Drink. Drank. Panic”) and odes to beer (“12 Pack Anthem”). There really isn’t a lot else about it. Either you have room in your life to realize that the race to the middle is all your going to get and that shit is always going to suck, or you don’t. Dude Jams, much like their brothers in Too Many Daves, chose not to wallow in the misery and sorrow, but take the down trodden truth and turn it into a celebration.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about these two bands, why they do it for me. I mean, I do genuinely like the music, it’s a mild, fast pace bit of pop-punk with funny lyrics and song titles. Part of it is a relief, a release from the worry about being unemployed, on a path to not too much and destined for a life of working until I die. There is commiseration in this music. Part of it too is that it’s all truth and no bullshit. Dude Jams is not trying to be something more than what it is. The so-called intellectual punk rock movement, those versed in political and social ideologies, made up of mostly privileged white kids from suburbs who have chosen a working class life, is filled with just as much of the base desires found in their drunk punk brethren. The difference a lot of time is expectation, language and a lot of guilt and denial. It’s still people getting fucked up, doing fucked up things and fucking. But so often these people cloud themselves in rhetoric and theory. Some of which I find valid and true, for sure. But Dude Jams, there just dudes, playing jams. It’s meant to be inclusive and accepting, even if it isn’t totally enlightened or thought to death. It might be male centric, but it’s only because it’s told from the perspective of the people making the music.

I’ve already over-thought the entire thing. This is a lot of words dedicated to a 23 minute album of mid-range, middle of the road, drunken punk rock music. I dig the music, a lot. It makes me feel okay with my mediocrity. Somehow, here in the middle, I know it’s gonna be okay. There’s always a beer or 12 at the end of any shit day. There’s always some dudes I can rely on when shit sucks. There’s always a couch to crash on when the bill collectors take everything away. In that, I know, I can always pull myself up until the day they toss the dirt over my coffin. That’s the magic of Dude Jams.

Punk Rock Saves My Life Over and Over Again

January 14, 2011 1 comment

The Arrivals
Volatile Molotov
Recess Records

I’ve always been the first to admit that I am often last on the hype boat. If you were looking for a more timely review of this album in October when this album came out, well sorry for that, but I just got on The Arrivals band wagon, so feel blessed you get the science from me on this album at all. I know absolutely nothing about this band. I think Paddy from D-4 is in it, but I only suspect that because of a Mitch Clem comic. I even bought their split series 7″ with Grabass Charlestons from the fine folks over at Razorcake last year. It’s not like I am totally unfamiliar with the band, but to be honest the 7″ didn’t really blow me away. However, I had read some really good things about this full length and decided to spend some of my well-earned i-Tunes gift cards (of which I am still accepting, email goodgovernor@yahoo.com and I will send you an address, thanks) received from the holiday season on the boys. I am very glad that I did.

Had I been on top of things Volatile Molotov, despite its awkward title would have been a contender for my tops of 2010, but at that shit was already written and I still haven’t had as much time with said album, it had to wait for my attention in the new year. But never mind, it’s a good, stomping, traveling kind of record. It’s the kind of album you can chill out to, or listen to in a museum, or while grocery shopping. It’s gonna heighten the experience. The song writing is superb, on a Ted Leo like level and is presented in a similar fashion. The whole way through songs build and progress, drive and bounce and stomp. There are remnants of Fugazi and Billy Bragg and the Clash. There’s some old-time Rock and Roll. Through out the songs break and burst out of the speakers and get you psyched up. What more can you ask for? Not much really.


Too Many Daves
Weekend at Daves
ADD Records

Too Many Daves is currently my favorite band in the whole world. I think they are fucking geniuses to be quite honest with you. They can say more in a one minute song with one line of lyric then most bands say in their entire career that spans shitty album after shitty album. Too Many Daves is what punk rock is all about. Writing good, fast, loud songs about the bullshit and partying and getting by. It’s not about high art or any of that other serious stuff. Well, sometimes it is, but you must have room in your heart and your head for some really dumb music sometimes, because if you’re just serious all the god damn time your life is going to suck. Too Many Daves is one of the reasons why my life does not suck. So now that I finally have Weekend At Daves (no thanks to any of you fuckers!) I feel a whole lot better about my life.

There isn’t much like deep shit to say about this album. I just think it’s really fun and good. It has songs where the lyrics are “Restraining Order” (Restraining Order) or they sing about making a dudes room while the significant other is at work (Dudes Room). They do a cover of “Cop Killer” by Body Count where they got kids to sing the “Fuck the Police” refrain. They understand that without beer, “dudes like us would fail the test of life” (Dudes Like Us). They use the word dude a lot in their lyrics and song titles. And we all know how I feel about the word Dude. They smoke weed, they eat Pizza, they drink beer, they play rock music and they don’t care about dumb bullshit or hurting your feelings. They aren’t pricks, but they’re just dudes, jamming out like dudes should. Also, every one in the band is named Dave. That has to be some cosmic shit right there.

I’m not that into telling people what the fuck they should do with their lives. But if you’re feeling depressed and down on life, get this album and get a good religion of partying, getting fucked up and eating Pizza. I know, I know, that’s not the most cerebral, thoughtful thing you could do. Some would call it poison. But I’ve never found those people to have a great sense of humor or know how to have fun. Life is hard, for almost everyone out there, sometimes you just have to let loose. You can do that with Too Many Daves. I suggest you get on that shit, dude.

Old Fartz Can Still Rock

October 8, 2010 1 comment

Tiltwheel
The High Hate Us
ADD Records

Old, fat, bearded white dudes are not cool. That’s why none of the cute girls in Washington DC wanted to talk to me last weekend at Crafty Bastards. I was working the table for my friend’s at Berkley Illustrations (shameless plug: buy those prints bros; get on it now!) and there were a lot of cute, tattooed punker girls. I don’t see these ladies at shows or in town or at the record store. I don’t know where they live or hang out to maybe meet one of them. They sure go to craft shows though. Anyway, they’d be buying their prints and being all “these are so cute, i love them so, *gush gush gush*, do you draw these?”. When I would say no, and point to Ryan their attention would quickly divert away from my ugly mug and to his better kept, more pleasing face. When I got home on Sunday, my latest package from No Idea Records was waiting for me. It included the new album The High Hate Us by Tiltwheel. After one listen, I totally related.

Titlwheel are some California punks who apparently have been around forever but never tour and have only put out two full lengths, The High Hate Us being the second. My beloved Razorcake had a three issue interview arc with this band, and even after reading it they sound like crazy, homeless loser drunks. So I wasn’t really surprised that dues weren’t that prolific. But one thing was clearly conveyed in the interviews; Guitarist/Singer and founder Davey Quinn really gives a shit about how this album sounds.

The persistence really pays off because this album is epic. The music is pop punk awesome, with clean guitars that also sound sad and beaten. Tiltwheel is downtrodden, but not beaten, dreary but not completely depressed. Their pants are muddy, but hey, it’s always sunny in California. It can’t be all bad.

It is also clear to me now, as I wade through these awesome sounds, that Tiltwheel is the foundation for so much music that is out there. If Leatherface is one part of the infamous “Gainesville Sound” then Titlwheel is the other half. Leatherface provided the lemons and hell fire, Tiltwheel provided the snappy responses and sugar-coated it. Both of these bands put out new records, near 20 years into their lives as a band, and they are epic testaments to the fact that just because you get older doesn’t mean you have to get slower, boring or less urgent. Tiltwheel churns out songs at rapid pace. They might not do 3 month tours of every town in the US, and that’s a shame, but this album is killer from moment one to moment none.

They are not for everyone though. The first songs have the word “fuck” in the title, and Davey tosses the “C Word” around pretty aggressively in the first song. But the anger and frustration are clear. He isn’t trying to be shocking, uncouth, or dirty. He’s trying to be mean to the target of his anger. But by the time we get to “Shit Your Pants (A Rock Opera)” the misery is turned inwards to poppy, anthmatic rock and roll that’s part Leatherface, part Avail, part Discount, part Hot Water Music. It’s such a fucking amazing song, the intro/bridge part is some of the saddest breakdown riffage I have ever heard. I love the shit out of this song like so many of my long played favorites and I only just got this CD yesterday.

Tiltwheel have put in more than they have taken. If you listen to any type of contemporary punk rock you owe this band your attention. You will be dancing in your room, sad about your shit, but happy to be alive. The High Hate Us is a soundtrack to the working class of today. Bruce Springsteen had his time, but now we are all hyper and irrelevant to the powers that be. The stress, anxiety, sadness and madness have become too much. We feel guilty, yet we are helpless. But there is always another day and it can only get better. That’s what Tiltwheel is here to remind us of.

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