Saw a grand total of four bands in the Zero-One year: The Valentine Killers from Washington state (who've since said their adioses to one another -- their former President in Charge of Vocal Projection should apply for the next Misfits job opening), The B-Movie Rats from El Lay (now a fully studded Rose Tattoo-esque outfit, as opposed to a hand-me-down Candy Snatchers cut-off tee then), Rip Dizzy from Pungo, VA (the finest-ever cross of The Replacements and The King Costello from these here parts), and The Mockers from Norfolk (brilliant connection of Liverpool Ewe Kay and Athens Gee Aye dots -- the editor of "Smart Money" had wisely spent his on their latest and was moved enough to do a two-page spread on 'em in his rag)...My favorite canned release of the Zero-One is also the choice of my twin brother I've never met, Shawn. Kill The Hippies' Spasms In The New Age is the finest (and possibly only) insta-classic since Elastica's introduction to the Budweiser crowd in the Nine-Four. Plenty of Wire-tapping, Gang Of Four-squaring, and Suicide (Commandos)-missioning to keep you dancing even if you're dying. Another full-length my double-take bro excitedly greeted with a bubble-shaft was The Strokes' Is This It?. Truth be told, I've only heard this mucho-hyped El Pee once in its entirety at a party attended by Lovie, members of the junk-punk unit The Strap-Ons (hey, Bil with one "L"!), some guy named Pete Overstreet, and, of course, moi. But during that close-as-possible audio inspection, favorites of yesteryear like the Buzzcocks, The Feelies, The Subsonics, and some dude with the initials L and R confidently putted birdie after birdie in my ear holes. Soon, I'll have to raise the white flag on the 18th and go get ...It? at my nearby Target or some other place where mi madre y mi padre can't be found. Thus, taken together, could the finest three acts at this moment in time be The Mockers, Kill The Hippies, and The Strokes? Heck, I'll argue nada when each is represented in my three-disc changer...
Speaking of stereos, Sandy Claws slid the finest system I've had in over ten years down my chimney. It's a Philips 240-watt bookshelf with three-way bass speakers, surround sound, dual cassette, and the aforementioned CD configuration. The first tester disc placed in this black 'n' yellow (just like Stryper) beauty was Aerosmith's Rocks. Its knob-on-16 sound turned and gave me a wink that made this grown man cry. Back in the saddle again...
Besides the NFL and NBA, I ain't got much use for current TV programs. Gimme Nick and Mallory over Ross and Rachel anytime. However, there's been one show I've followed since Lovie clued me in on it. "CSI" (short for "Crime Scene Investigation") looks at wrong-doings from the medical examiner's/forensicist's (made-up word?) point of view a la "Quincy," but with tons more style and dry inter-department wit. Like real life, sometimes the cases go unsolved and sometimes the guilty walk away free. "CSI" makes sure to include all of its regular characters in the story lines, unlike some other programs that build star vehicles around one or two main players. The true star of "CSI" is the show itself, and that's what makes it my kinda "Must See Tee Vee"...
Through 137 completed games in the Lovie versus Gunther SCRABBLE Challenge, my better half currently enjoys a 71-64-2 advantage. I must point out that I lead in "bingos" (when all seven tiles are used in one turn -- earning a 50-point bonus) 77-59. Also, my scoring average is a wee bit higher than Loviebaby's (324.9 approx. to her 320.8 approx.). But as Lovie would quickly tell you, she has the highest-scoring single turn in our dual duel (149 points for VAULTING -- a triple-triple word score and a bingo all in one!), whereas this somewhat sore loser can merely counter with DESIRING for a yawn-ful 122 puntas. She once lit me up for 471 points in a November contest -- a figure unmatched by either of us since. You didn't ask, but 439 has been my high game in the Challenge so far. SCRABBLE is one of the few pursuits where I can exercise my superior inferiority. I love being whipped with a tile rack -- hit me again with seven...
At Mars Music on Virginia Beach Blvd. in late October, the guitar-hero-worshipping lines for Hendrix comma Jimi and Vai comma Steve were way too long, so I jumped into Marty Willson-Piper's. Huh? Here's a hint: Wish I knew what you were looking for. Might've known what you would find...
For Two Double-Zero Two, I plan on continuing M-DC and its sibling Cinco La Playa as well as contributing to Now Wave's on-line and in-print formats. Also, I want to help the new Norfolk-area rock 'n' roll mag Fresh Rag get the widespread attention it so deserves. Holly (FR's boss) should have my "Thrift Scores" piece in her hands within the next fortnight. Want to keep swapping zines with longtime traders, as well as develop new tit-for-tat relationships with independent publishing folk...
Statistics from the 1st Annual Mike Keels/Gunther 8544 Pretending To Be League Bowlers Non-TV Pairing (Held 8-26-01 at the Pinboy's off Battlefield Blvd. in Chesapeake, VA): Games Won -- Mike(5), Gunther(2); Per-Game Average -- Mike(135.57), Gunther(122.43); High Game -- Gunther(186), Mike(162); Low Game -- Gunther(97), Mike(102); High-Strike Game -- Gunther(5), Mike(3 -- three times); High-Spare Game -- Mike(5), Gunther(4 -- two times); Total Strikes -- Mike(16), Gunther(13); Total Spares -- Mike(21), Gunther(17); Spare-Conversion Rate -- Mike(38.2%), Gunther(28.3%)...
When I found out that "Year Of The Cat" had not been recorded by Cat Stevens, but rather, Al Stewart, I refused to accept the truth. That disappointing discovery was made in 1987 on the cold floor of a Ford Econoline van. Fifteen years later, however, I still want it to be Stevens singing what should've been his theme song and show closer. I'm aware that "The Cat" long ago changed his first name to Yusef and his surname to Islam. Again, I reject that truism. Wouldn't it be great to find a board tape of the ex-Cat scratching on a Sub Pop Singles Club unreleased 45 entitled "The Year Of The Yusef"? Feline metaphors abound: "Well, the cats are all frisky and they want to play/But they can't, cause they're locked inside the cages of the SPCA/And a man outside holds a key that unlocks the door/Little do they know he's a transvestite male whore." 2001 -- The Year Of The Yusef, The Year Of The Cat...
OK, one more hint: I'll show you how the angels once traveled. They used to call this a Chevy...
No comments:
Post a Comment