Wednesday, June 08, 2005

M, VI

Minor Threat- First Demo Tape

This EP is totally for the dorks who already know every note Minor Threat ever played. Their first demo, recorded a month before the stuff that Dischord would eventually release. And what a difference that month made- the songs on the demo don’t have the same swagger. It sounds like Minor Threat is standing at the urinal but can’t take a leak because someone just walked into the men’s room. But thirty days later, they’re pissin’ all over the place! Look out!

Misfits- Collection II

It’s all about the mystique. At the core of it, there’s a huge similarity between the Misfits and the Ramones. They sound kinda the same musically, admit it, and both acts are cartoonish lyrically- the Ramones focusing on city life and not wanting to ___________, with the Misfits doing their campy horror movie/alien thing and singing about killing yr. baby today. You didn’t take either all that seriously, but still sang along because the shit was catchy like bedbugs on moving day in Allston.

The Ramones were way more cash and carry about their whole thing than the Misfits ever were- thugs with leather jackets singing about the streets. The Misfits rocked the devilocks, wore black, put out some of the most insanely collectible records of all time. They made you feel like you were part of a club, one that was accessible if you had the time to invest in getting into- a huge return. Despite the fact that a lot of this stuff sounds like it was recorded on a Mr. Microphone, the Misfits’ songs continue to be classics from a time when the boundaries of punk weren’t so defined.

Mission Of Burma- Peking Spring

I’ve gone on a handful of dates as a result of work in the restaurant industry. The funniest instance, in retrospect, was this one woman I met one night who was a New York ad exec. We hung out twice here in Boston, talked on the phone a little bit, and then she asked me to come down to the city to visit her. I took the weekend off of work and bought bus tickets, and like the next day she called up to tell me that we were ‘just friends.’ I went down anyway- I already had the tickets- and had a fucking miserable time, counting down the hours until Sunday arrived so that I could go home. She did take me to see Luna play- I thought they were pretty dull- and, when I was perusing her CD collection, I stumbled across ‘Peking Spring,’ which she told me I could have because she didn’t really like it. Shoulda known.

Seriously, though. Burma’s got such a unique sonic fingerprint, even still, that had they not gotten back together (more on their reunion album in a sec, in the next review), some band of upstarts would have mined it and stolen every fucking tape loop, fuzzed-out swarm guitar shard and ninety-one degree angle. Their sound, still uniquely their own after twenty-plus years, would have become like Blink 183’s thing and Burma wouldn’t have gotten a lick of credit. I’m so glad the band, and their records, are getting the credit they deserve. What do fucking ad execs know, anyway?

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