Attention: The Go Metric "new ideas" tank is on "E."
Our response?
Rehash.
You beat us to the punchline. We know you did. Just like our staff, your sense of morality is centered around icons such as Don Henley, The Cars, and The Police, practitioners of the "Greatest Hits Album with One New Song."
Only we at Go Metric are going to do them one less. Thus, the following: a look back at 2010 with no new material! Happy Holidays!
It’s my general opinion that we should do a lot more celebrating when it comes to punk rock. Yes, for most of us it’s what we do in our spare time, outside of our nine to fives. But when you think about it, it takes a fair bit of effort; between playing in bands, putting out records, writing zines and so forth, there’s a lot of work to be done. It’s fun, but not necessarily easy, but just because it’s not something towards company profits doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be proud (and frankly I’d rather go to a crappy show than a good office party anyway).
The point I’m trying to make; 50 is a celebratory compilation, marking the fiftieth release on Stardumb Records. The label’s specialty includes a lot of classic mid ‘90s style pop punk, as well as some garage rock, often crossing over. The first half of this collection is bands from the label covering other bands from the label. The second half is the same track listing of bands, but with unreleased songs. While it’s easy for concepts like that to come off as gimmicky, 50 feels much more genuine, on account of the sheer quality of the material; while I could see a lot of other labels potentially doing something like this where it sounds like twelve different bands playing the exact same song only slightly differently, there’s a surprising variety here. It keeps things fun, particularly thanks to bands like Sonic Dolls, The Dirtshakes, and Zatopeks. For that matter, the entire package is put together very nicely, making it one of the best compilations I’ve seen all year.
Disclaimer: There’s some mild self-indulgence here. First, the editor is the drummer, and pretty much everyone’s been a Go Metric! contributor at some point. I’ve been in more than one band with said editor at this point, and played every Egghead. reunion show in New York in the past few years. You can see me in a picture liner notes. I absolutely love these guys, just as people, even before getting to their band.
Disregarding that, I love this record. Egghead. have always been great in the sense that they couldn’t be more of a pop punk band, yet have managed to avoid sounding like a Ramones/Queers/Younameit-core rip off. I think the secret is that they’re actually so unbelievably confidant in who they are and willing to wear their less conventional influences on their sleeves, because this is a perfect reflection of that. Case in point; what’s the last punk record you listened to that opened with an overture?
I also find it interesting that it’s a mix of old, almost forgotten songs and new. I also can’t help but feel like it could be a glimpse into my own future. Putting songs like “What The Hell Is She Thinking?” next to “We Brought It Back.” It makes it feel less like a ‘comeback album,’ and just a ‘good’ album (even if it’s at their own pace). As a nerdy punk rocker in my late twenties who often finds himself depressed, listening to this is like my “It Gets Better” video.
As we arrive at the thirtieth (!!!) anniversary of that Chief Beatle’s death, I found myself reaching far back indeed within the Pig Archives to exhume one of my very first-ever articles on said subject. Originally published two-and-a-half decades ago in either “Outer Shell” and/or “Inside Joke” Magazine, I believe its drift remains as relevant today as it was back then, scribbled in a fit of FM-powered pique from my childhood bedroom.
Perhaps you still feel the same way too...
Borrowed Time
December the 8th found me relaxing by my stereo for the first time in much too long. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I found myself switching the radio on, only to be bombarded by scratchy old Beatles tunes on nine stations out of ten. “Which one died now?” I immediately thought, pessimistically thinking. It was then that I realized it was THAT time of year again: The anniversary of John Lennon’s assassination.
Tapes of Lennon’s final rash of interviews, published in magazine and book form dozens of times already, were again rebroadcast between the predictable parade of Lennon hits (“In My Life,” “Strawberry Fields,” “Day In The Life,” “Give Peace A Chance,” “Starting Over” and, of course, “Imagine”) (…how come they never play “Cold Turkey” or “Revolution 9” ?!!). Being the loyal baby-boomer I am, I duly listened with half an ear as I read my mail, these songs being, as I’m constantly reminded, The Soundtrack Of My Life.
Most disturbing by far, I found whilst scouring the dial for a non-John tune or two, were the tear-soaked calls from listeners that seem to be the featured attraction of these annual Lennon radio tributes. Calls saying how shocked we were on that fateful night outside the Dakota. Callers nit-picking the minutest prop and dialogue inaccuracies out of the John & Yoko TV-movie bio-pic. And caller-upon-caller bemoaning the fact that Elvis Presley’s death continues to out-vigil, out-draw, and out-headline that of the Chief Beatle’s, despite the fact that, quote, “Presley died a wasteful, self-inflicted death long after his peak, while John was savagely gunned down in his artistic and spiritual prime.”
Believe it or not, I AM a fan and admirer of John Lennon’s life and music, and my thoughts and sympathies still find themselves turned towards his family on quite a regular basis. But I no longer find any legitimate purpose in dwelling on the man’s death throughout the media every December 8, particularly when such anniversary productions are dubiously disguised as “Celebrations Of The Man And His Music.”
I, for one it seems, am GLAD Lennon’s death has not (yet) turned into the cabaret Elvis’ has, and hereby strongly and sincerely urge all his followers to finally awaken from their morbid mourning and listen instead to the music and words of TODAY as opposed to Yesterday. And I’d bet John himself would join me, if he only could, in demanding all you fossilized Beatlemaniacs begin concerning yourselves with the tunes, trials and tribulations of TOMORROW… and let sleeping Beatles lie.
Gary Pig Gold Mississauga, Ontario, Canada December 1985.
