Go Metric

Are You Receiving Me? #65 – The Mummies

By Mike Faloon

The Mummies
“Just One More Dance” b/w “I Don’t Like It” 7”
Pre-B.S.

Like many people, I found that my early twenties were a great time to be a music fan. By that point, I’d learned a little about the pop and punk rock underground that I enjoyed so much, and I was more open minded than I’d been in high school. It was the early ‘90s and I was also getting into the world of zines and had a growing network of friends with similar tastes.

All of these factors led to lots of lists. Flying Nun bands like the Chills and the Clean that I wanted to hear. Popllama bands like the Young Fresh Fellows and Fastbacks and their infinite offshoots. Local New York bands like the Sea Monkeys and Iron Prostate. There was also the burgeoning budget rock scene (Mummies, Supercharger). Like I said, good times. But I was also wading through the world of part-time work and was usually broke, so the lists generally just got longer.

The Mummies are one of those bands I read about but I couldn’t afford to track down their countless singles and hard-to-find albums. It was years before I bought my first (and so far only) Mummies album (Play Their Own Records!). I have a good paying job now (thank you, collective bargaining!) but Mummies records have become collector’s items, so they remain elusive (temporary end of parenthetical clauses).

Enter the 2016 Burger Boogaloo festival in Oakland. This was a chance to see the Mummies play live and—surprise, surprise—they had a new single for sale, reasonably priced at five bucks. Yes, please!

Both of the songs have quickly become summer favorites. I’ve listened to them five times today alone, which has generated another list.

Reasons I recommend the new Mummies single:

1. The Mummies have sealed the sleeve on all sides using “Budg-edge” technology. It needs to be cut in order to access the single. A little more work before the payoff.
2. The Mummies have included plenty of gags on the sleeve. They’re better seen up close than described.
3. The Mummies have included their mailing address: 30 Westline Dr., Daly City, CA 94015. I don’t know that I’ll write to them but I appreciate the sense of geography, being able to place them on my mental map.
4. The Mummies claim that this single was only available at the Burger Boogaloo, though these songs will probably be available again sometime soon. I base my claim on this disclaimer on the back of the single: “This here record is exactly the same as this one (image of “Go Ass Crazy” single). If you have a problem with that don’t buy this record. We don’t care.” (Ralph Nader seal of approval.) They’ve released ‘em twice, why thrice?
5. The Mummies rock; there’s substance here, too. Both tunes are ripe with high energy, big hooks, and low budget fidelity—cut from the same sweaty bandages as the band’s ‘90s output. Heck, maybe these are Clinton-era leftovers. I can’t say for sure. They’re new to me and they rip.

I look forward to my next Mummies purchase in 2026! 

 

 

 

Are You Receiving Me? #64 – Spokenest

By Mike Faloon

Spokenest
Gone, Gone, Gone LP
Self-released/Drunken Sailor

Part 1: The First Three Listens

The other day at Grand Central Station, I attempted to buy a train ticket, a 10-pass, to be more specific. Summer’s here and the time is right for more frequent trips into my favorite city. Though expensive, $119, I consider the purchase of such a ticket to be routine; upstaters like me buy them all the time.

The bank my wife and I use, People’s United, disagreed that this purchase was routine. Their algorithms sensed some manner of wrongdoing was afoot and unbeknownst to me they suspended our account when I tried to buy the 10-pass. The ticket machine’s screen read “Unable to complete transaction.” I attributed this to a mechanical problems with the machine. Allie found out about the suspended account the next day at the grocery store when her card was declined. She called the bank.

Allie: “You have no idea what a disruption this is.

Bank rep: “We’re trying to prevent fraud. Fraud is a much bigger disruption.”

In addition to running through the “how”s and “why”s of what happened, the bank rep said that we could prevent this problem from happening again by calling the bank when we plan to visit the city. Financial institutions will tell you all kinds of things. I believe few of them.

Spokenest, comprised of Adrian (drums/vocals) and Daryl (guitar/vocals), make a lot of claims, too. One of them is that they sound like Superchunk. I don’t believe this. Daryl’s guitar sound is harsher; I hear more Sonic Youth in the six strings. And the dirgy breakdown in “Sense,” that’s SY > SC as well. Not that Spokenest lean too much in the direction of Kim and Thurston. Spokenest often opt for breakneck tempos, like they can’t play fast enough, like the whole thing is going to careen over the cliff and maybe part of them wants it to.

Part 2: Subsequent Listens

You know, on fourth thought, there is some early Superchunk here—like when they play steady eighths. And the slower part at the end of “Lose” with the poppy “oohs” sprinkled in. A bit of No Pocky for Kitty? Sure. And Spokenest’s lyrics are far too earnest to cozy up to Sonic Youth’s detached sneers. So maybe Spokenest can be trusted on this whole “we’ve got a bit of Superchunk” thing.

But now I’ve implied that Spokenest are a couple of Superchunk diehards aping their favorite band. There are traces of that on Gone, Gone, Gone but they have got moves a plenty of their own. “Tell Me” punches and kicks and tries to shake it all off, while “Reasons” mixes these elements—snarling and stomping and oohing and aahing—to a whole different effect. This one makes the summer playlist.

Are You Receiving Me? #63 – A Wailing of a Town – An Oral History of Early San Pedro Punk and More 1977-1985

By Mike Faloon

A Wailing of a Town – An Oral History of Early San Pedro Punk and More 1977-1985
Edited by Craig Ibarra
End Fwy Books

Several years ago Craig Ibarra co-produced a compilation album of San Pedro punk rock (The Reactionaries 1979). On the back of the LP’s jacket, tucked in the corner, was a note about a forthcoming book, A Wailing of a Town – Ignored History of Early San Pedro Punk. 

The book is now out, but with a new subtitle, An Oral History. I think the revised subtitle is more apt but the defiance implied by Ignored History fits really well--There was so much going in San Pedro; we’re going to be heard.

The easy route for this book would be to focus on the Minutemen, the town’s best-known export, and seek out music biz luminaries to serve as talking heads, sharing stories of when they first heard the band and how they were inspired by them. The Minutemen are legendary and they crossed paths with plenty of well-known bands.

But No Wailing is much more than a band history. It’s really about the ethos developed and practiced by the town’s bands and writers and artists, friends and followers: everyone should be involved, and there was a particular emphasis on developing a unique sound/voice/perspective. Whether hosting a show, publishing a zine, or offering to drive a band home after a draining night, there was no need to just watch from a distance. No Wailing is about the Minutemen on the surface, but it’s really about a group of working class kids and the art projects they churned out.

So it makes sense that Ibarra would steer clear of celebrities and talk with the rank and file, the people who were in closer proximity. In that sense this is the punk rock book that Howard Zinn would have written. That’s certainly noble in theory but such an approach presents a different set of risks. What if you didn’t see the Dialtones at a backyard barbeque or read The Prole or get you haircut at Ivica’s New Wave Salon? Might that slam the door in a reader’s face? Leave us on the outside looking in? In lesser hands, perhaps, but Ibarra’s up to the task—he’s gathered a lot of clay, sculpted it well, and invited anyone who’s willing in for a closer look. Ibarra is a San Pedro native and a longtime pro-Pedro activist. He knows the landscape well. His scope and sequence are rock solid and easy-to-follow, and he knows when to let things run long and when to cut them short. 

I admit that whenever non-Pedro bands were mentioned (Go-Gos, Meat Puppets, Sonic Youth), I expected the next quote to come from a member of one of those bands. It’s a set-up/delivery structure absorbed from other oral histories and documentaries. But those bands remain on the sidelines, referenced but not heard from. They weren’t from San Pedro. Instead Ibarra focuses on local musicians, friends, and family members. He introduces and elevates a wide range of different voices. I’d never heard of Gary Jacobelly but his insights and phrasing had me looking online for his books. (None to date.) All I used to know about Linda Kite was that she was driving the night that D. Boon died. But hearing her side of the story, I was struck by the courage it took to revisit the days before and after that tragic event, grappling with what happened.

In the end, Ibarra is not an outsider reporting on the past. He’s an insider welcoming us in, which makes A Wailing of a Town a page-turning, Let’s-do-it-too read.

Additional updates on A Wailing of a Town 

Are You Receiving Me? #61 – The Safes

By Mike Faloon

Safes
Record Heat
Wee Records

Luther Perkins played guitar in Johnny Cash’s backing band throughout the fifties and sixties.  His style was laid back.  Some called it lackadaisical.  When asked about his approach Perkins responded that other guitar players spent their time looking for the right notes but he’d found them.  It was a confident declaration.  He knew what he wanted and how to get it; his internal sense of validation was good enough and he wasn’t distracted by extraneous pursuits (at least not on stage).

Record Heat (Wee Rock) is further proof that The Safes have that, too—an unflinching confidence in a simple, invigorating approach.   And passion to burn.  With songs like the opening track, “Hopes Up, Guard Down,” the Safes are as direct as ever rendering Record Heat easy to read and easier to like.  Pretty hard to forget, though.

The band’s driving, grab-you-by-the collar garage pop is colored with big hooks and laced with lyrics that celebrate the people who help them weather a world that continues to disappoint.  But they don’t allow frustration to yield to bitterness, and the band continues to find new takes on proven ideas, especially on side two where tracks such as “Ace for a Face” and “Hot Pursuit” breathe in unexpected places.  (Other nice touches include guest vocalist Kathleen Wilson kicking “K.O.” up a notch, and the band’s dad, Frank X. O’Malley, making a cameo on baritone sax.)

Thousands of bands are pursuing the brass ring of commercial success, trying to cook up a recipe with the right blend of songs, styles, and attitudes that will resonate, strike people as authentic.  Such guessing games yield a lottery seldom won.  They’re all looking for what the Safes have in spades.  You’ll never look back on Record Heat and have to make excuses.

Are You Receiving Me? #60 – Future Virgins

by Mike Faloon

Future Virgins
Late Republic LP
Recess

My intention is to write a positive review of this record. I’m going to wade through some thinking that might seem like backhanded compliments. Let’s get to it.

I think Late Republic could be a great Hot Topic record.

I think Future Virgins could make an excellent commercial record.

I probably lost some ground with those two statements, so let’s clear this up—Late Republic is excellent—and then back up.

Future Virgins—a band name I won’t pretend to understand—are a remarkably good band. They’re a punk rock band first and foremost. They may weave in power pop and classic rock, but punk rock is their calling. There’s nothing deceitful or disingenuous in their sound. To the contrary, they radiate more heart than everyone else, regardless of genre.

To my mind (and ears and soul—these guys appeal on so many levels) they’re somewhere between the Clash and the Replacements. Not so much in terms of sound, but attitude (though there are certainly Strummer-like phrases and Stinson-like lead guitar licks). I characterize the Clash as a global band—politics across borders, mate! I characterize the Replacements as a personal band—man, why does life have to ache like this? Future Virgins have bits of both, dip their lyrical paddles in both waters. They’re rich in the kind of authenticity marketing creeps are forever trying to decode—how can we manufacture a band the kids will accept as real? Wait, what is real? Call the sixth floor. Have them send up any metrics they have on ‘real.’

Focus groups will only get you so far. If those dweebs would ever ditch their spread sheets, they’d be buying up boxes of Late Republic. Listen to that rhythm guitar that pulsates through the verses of “Breaking Bread.” Man, how much better my teenage years would have been with that echoing in my head during chemistry class. And that’s not to risk another back handed compliment. I may be geezer age but killer guitar riffs still ease the day.

I used to think Future Virgins were an EP band, best experienced in short, brilliant bursts. That’s probably a function of how I first heard them—a live set at The Fest then a series of EPs of three-to-six songs. It took me awhile to adjust to their full-length debut (Western Problems, Starcleaner, 2011). I came around in time, embraced that record with school boy enthusiasm. Now with Late Republic I’ve done a one eighty. This is an album band, they work best with the bigger canvas.

And I think they’d possibly benefit from an even larger canvas, or more accurately a different kind of canvas. By that I mean I think they’re one of the few bands that could successfully handle a more lavish production sound. Most bands—punk or otherwise—wilt when given slicker production. Their ideas get lost in a whirlpool of excessive overdubbing and dopey suggestions from the herd of crazed chefs cramming their way into the proverbial kitchen. But a few bands take that plunge and break through (artistically, quality-wise; I’m not talking about sales figures). Much as I dig the first Clash record, Give ‘em Enough Rope is even better. Who’d have guessed that Sandy “Blue Oyster Cult” Pearlman and the Clash would have yielded such an amazing album. (Well, the first seven tracks, anyway.) The Breeders’ Last Splash. Green Day’s Dookie. Black Wine’s Hollow Earth. Each one has top notch, radio ready production that elevates the material. Of course, for every one of those successes there are hundreds of Don’t Tell a Souls, the Replacements gooey, what-were-they-thinking-were-they-even-listening? record from 1989.

But that’s looking past Late Republic. That’s speculating what Future Virgins might be capable of. (Maybe. It could be argued that Late Republic is that record; it sounds spectacular.) That’s also my way of saying this record is more mature than the band’s previous records. This record is better produced and easier to digest. I also think it’s Future Virgins’ best. The hooks are sharper, more immediate. There’s more space between the guitar lines, more contrast. And the band’s passion burns as bright as ever, maybe brighter because maintaining an outlook such as theirs—yep, it’s hard, dude; press on—becomes more challenging with age.

Best of all, I’m just scratching the surface. I’ve barely spent any time with the lyrics. Late Republic is probably just going to get better.

There are records you like and there are records that matter. With Late Republic I vote for that latter.

Are You Receiving Me? #59 – The Chills

by Mike Faloon

 

The Chills

“Molten Gold”

Fire Records

 

I was thrilled to hear a new Chills song.  New material for the first time in nearly ten years.  Granted, it’s only one tune, “Molten Gold,” but it’s a gem.  Arguably their third perfect pop song (along “Pink Frost” and “Heavenly Pop Hit”). 

 

I’m tempted to uncork a stream of worthy adjectives to pique your interest in “Molten Gold”—mostly focusing on the interplay between the guitar tracks and the violin, paralleled by the balance between lead and backing vocals.  But sampling the song is just a click away.  Show > tell, right?

 

Judging from the lyrics I think Martin Phillipps, the band’s driving force, is even more excited about releasing a new song—perhaps relieved—than any of us. 

 

“I had to fight to find a brighter way

I needed strength and yes, I still do…

I felt richer than a billionaire

I breathe the clear air that can’t be bought or sold.” 

 

From start to finish he sounds like a man renewed, freed of burdens and eager to resume a creative life.  Or perhaps enjoying a more fruitful creative life.  From what I’ve read he’s never stopped generating ideas but has found and/or created significant difficulties completing those ideas.

 

Back in 2004, when he released the Stand By EP there was talk of an immediate follow up.  However, the EP itself bore few signs of resurgence, most of the tracks sounding underbaked, lacking the distinctive bounce that buoyed even the darkest of Chills songs. 

 

Commenting on the prospect of a new album being released 2014 Phillipps hedged his bets: “There will be, of course, many practical considerations so hold me to that as a promise.”

 

I can only hope that Phillipps’ future is as bright as he projects on “Molten Gold.”  It’s been far too long since we last heard from him.

 

Are You Receiving Me? #58 – Hussalonia

By Mike Faloon

Hussalonia
Home Taping Is Killing Me cassette
Hope for the Tape Deck

Fact #1: Hussalonia is a one-man power pop band. 

Evidence-based conclusion #1: Hussalonia is one of the best power pop bands. Home Taping Is Killing Me ranks with his/their best.

Facts #2: There is no specific personal information about the member(s) of Hussalonia. Just Jandek-like references to “The Hussalonia Founder.”

Rumor #1: Hussalonia is the brainchild of a mild-mannered white-collar professional residing somewhere in the Midwest. Canton, Ohio, I believe.

Evidence-based conclusions #2: Hussalonia is a genius. 

Speculation #1: He’s the sort of person who excels at whatever creative endeavor he places in his creative field of view. 

Evidence-based conclusions #3: His melodies consistently hit the mark. Likewise for his guitar tone.

Speculation #2: His record collection is pretty great. He prefers McCartney to Lennon when it comes to music. The opposite is true for lyrics. He understands my inclination to compare him to Robert Pollard—hyper prolific, willing to let a song stand at 25 seconds or four minutes. He’d probably hear me out were I to compare Hussalonia’s river of short songs to those of the Minutemen.

Evidence-based conclusions #4: Hussalonia can turn a phrase with the best of them, perhaps more so now than ever. 

Take this one, from the opening song, “Keeping the Company of the Dead” – “In this world there is more bad than good/But the good is f*&# great” You have to believe that if you’re going to embark in any creative endeavor. Hussalonia’s inner optimist gets the first word on this record. He has the last word, too, as we’ll soon see.

Here’s another from “No to Some”: “I went from no to some idea of what I’m doing” That’s the best summation of the past 10-15 years of my life, personally, creatively, professionally. 

I think the last song, “Time Will Measure Me,” might prove to be the tape’s crown jewel. It’s slower and noisier and longer than the rest of the cuts. It’s probably the most difficult. I’m still adjusting to it a dozen listens in. It’s the most compelling, too. The title alone is the perfect distillation of the Hussalonia statement / slogan: “Pop does not mean popular.” It’s like he’s saying if people aren’t getting the Hussalonia founder now, that’s there loss. Perhaps future generations will. Yet he has to recognize the longshot nature of this scenario. 

Interpretation #1 :The satirical concept that loosely runs through Home Taping is a swell topper for the proceedings. According to the liner notes, Hussalonia was bought out by Nefarico Industries. Subsequently there were internal conflicts between the Hussalonia founder and his corporate backers. Several recording projects were shelved. One of which, Home Taping Is Killing Me, started surfacing on the Eastern European bootleg market. Nefarico saw potential profits flying out the window and green lighted an official release. Interspersed among the songs are three PSAs.

PSA #1: Never purchase a Hussalonia product not encased in a Nefarico security hologram sticker. “Only Nefarico can save you from your own dishonesty and filth.”

PSA #2: Bootleg Amnesty Day. Bonfire at Nefarico Square starts at 6 PM.

PSA #3: “Listening to pirated Hussalonia cassettes is a criminal activity and criminals are worthless, vile scum undeserving of the Earth’s bounty.”

Summary #1: Home Taping Is Killing Me = Vintage Elvis Costello crossed with SCTV. Treat yourself.

Are You Receiving Me? #57 – The Clean

by Mike Faloon
 
The Clean
Vehicle and In-a-Live  2 x LP
Flying Nun / Captured Tracks
 
Punk’s influence on the New Zealand pop of the ‘80s, specifically the bands on Flying Nun Records, is logical if not always obvious. In-a-Live—a five-song live EP recorded in 1988—is an amazing exception.
 
These songs are familiar to fans of the Clean’s early material (disc one on the Merge collection, Anthology) I’ve never heard them rendered quite like this. The tempos feel a notch faster. The low end—Robert Scott’s bass and Hamish Kilgour’s kick drum—are a bit higher in the mix. As a result the songs have more drive, more thump, without diminishing David Kilgour’s guitar leads. In-a-Live is a brilliant disc compromised only by its brevity. At five songs and 14 minutes I’m left wondering about—craving to hear—the rest of the set.
 
And yet In-a-Live is merely the appetizer. The main course being a reissue of 1990’s Vehicle. Vehicle presents the same elements as the live EP but in an altered mix. The vocals are higher, the lyrics easier to decipher. (Well, at least it’s easier to make out the words. I’ve never been adept at making out the meanings of Clean songs.)   
 
Despite coming ten years and X releases into the Clean’s career, Vehicle was the band’s full-length debut. Released on Rough Trade, it was also their first relatively easy to find record in the U.S. Vehicle served as both a culmination of the previous decade and an introduction to a new audience.
 
The trio traveled to London to record with Alan Moulder who’d recently engineered the Jesus and Mary Chain’s Automatic. According to David Kilgour’s liner notes Moulder wasn’t around much but that hardly seems to have impacted the band or subsequent record.  They’d been touring extensively and uncorked gem after gem, putting a bit more polish on their sound without dulling their impact. Few bands appreciate the sound of an intensely strummed electric guitar quite like the Clean and this is on display throughout Vehicle. Is it layers of deceptively clever tracks or merely one or two? (Kilgour’s liner notes also contain this rarity: “Rough Trade was great to us.” A musician actually—explicitly—satisfied with a record label.)
 
Vehicle (the Clean’s best long player) + In-a-Live + liner notes from all three band members + art work from both releases = highest recommendation.

“Dunes”

Are You Receiving Me? #56 – Bird Nest Roys

by Mike Faloon

 

Bird Nest Roys

Me Want Me Get Me Need Me Have Me Love 2 x LP

Flying Nun / Captured Tracks

 

Me Want Me Get… is a double album collection from Bird Nest Roys, a New Zealand band from the ‘80s. I thought I’d at least heard of all the great New Zealand bands from that era. Bird Nest Roys represent a considerable oversight and Me Want Me Get… represents the sort of pleasant surprise that makes me wonder what I’ve done lately (or must do in the future) to deserve such bounty.

 

Like the best of their contemporaries on Flying Nun Records, Bird Nest Roys [1] were heavy on the jangle and the melodies and light on attitude—tunes are to be memorable and bands are absurd propositions, entities worthy of effort but serving first and foremost as vehicles for having a good time.

 

Sonically, Bird Nest fit in with fellow Flying Nun artists such as the Chills and the Clean, gentle and swaying here (“Five Weetbix and Toast”), fired up and steaming ahead there (“Loving”). I hear bits of the Housemartins and the Smiths as well. Bird Nest were a six-piece band but they don’t sound like it. The band’s sound is never cluttered. They blend the elements really well, mask their numbers. (This makes them sound like Sand People. Star Wars would have been infinitely more compelling if it’d been members of Bird Nest Roys who came upon Luke in the desert—strumming tunes, offering pints and odd takes on Kafka short stories.)

 

Me Want Me Get… collects all of Bird Nest Roys’ discography. And while the tunes are the obvious focus, the package is pleasing, too. The sleeves to the double album set feature the artwork from the band’s self-titled long player (1987) and their debut EP (Whack It All Down, 1985). Photos, collages, line drawings, hand lettered credits, liner notes from guitarist and vocalist Big Ross—it’s a terrific collection of visuals.

 

Thanks to Flying Nun putting these songs back in circulation and Captured Tracks for insuring they’re available domestically.

 

“Alien”

“Ain’t Mutatin’”

---

[1] I’m tempted to go with “BNR” but it's too close to “GNR."  Or maybe I should embrace the similarity, declare BNR the winner. 

Are You Receiving Me? #55 – The Worriers

by Mike Faloon

 

Worriers

Cruel Optimist 12” EP

Don Giovanni Records

I don’t handle it well when favorite bands call it a day. Partly because I’m a geezer and the ranks are dwindling--I’m not adding many favorites. Partly because the bands I follow seem more likely to go on hiatus, take an extended break but still play occasional shows.

In late 2010 I read about the Measure’s break up in Razorcake. I was eating breakfast, about to leave for work. Notes had just come out on No Idea Records. It was their first proper full-length.[1] I was ready to settle in for a series of follow up albums.  Despite having over a dozen other Measure records--singles, EPs, compilation cuts--things were starting.  Plus, just a few weeks before I’d been able to do a mini-tour with Lauren Denitzio and Fid, the band’s singers and songwriters. It was a great weekend. No hints of distress, much less a pending break up. I was crushed when they pulled the plug.

Relief came in the knowledge that Lauren and Fid would probably unveil new projects soon; they had too much to say to remain on the sidelines. Three years later Lauren is the first one out of the gates with the Worriers.[2] (As far as I know. Fid could have three new records out. I’ve not found a reliable way to stay in touch with him. An elusive dude. Get him started on Guided By Voices sometime.)

Cruel Optimist is an excellent eight-track EP. I could hear the Measure wrestling with this material—barreling through the title track, easing into “Precarity Rules.” The similarity in sounds isn’t surprising given that the rhythm section is comprised of fellow Measure alumni Mike Yannich (drums) and Tim Burke (bass).

Rounding out the quartet is Rachel Rubino on guitar. She’s a terrific foil for Denitzio, especially on the slower, more atmospheric songs like “Precarity Rules” and “Killjoy.” It’s on these songs where the Worriers sound least like the Measure, haunting at times. (A seldom used adjective in DIY punk circles.) Not that I need that to be the case. Like I said, the Measure ended too soon.

Lyrically, Denitzio continues to mine the desire to be ethical and practical, high-minded and progressive, without detaching from the real world. There are line like this: “Don’t know how to push through this/I used to be an optimist” (“Cruel Optimist”), which sound like time and experience are taking their toll. Yet the overall tone is still one of resilience. I don't know how I'll push through this only that I will.

Given the serious tone of the lyrics I feel that a review should respond in kind, but I have to admit that in saying or thinking “The Worriers” I often think of “The Warriors.” Or to be more specific, The Warriors, the 1979 Walter Hill film. But instead of various street gangs roaming the city, I envision a recasting, packs of punk rock subgenres come to life—pop punkers bouncing out of St. Marks comics, gutter punks streaming in on Metro North, anarcho punks charging forth in the name of Emma Goldman. Initially they’re all caught off guard by the return of the ska punks, but in the third act the Worriers unite them all. Maybe this is just how I push through.

Works of fan fiction aside, Cruel Optimist is a terrific record. I'm still not over the end of the Measure, but as the old saying goes post-break up records heal all wounds.

---

[1] Technically this isn’t true. Historical Fiction predated Notes by several years, but the former hardly sounds like the same band. More like a dress rehearsal for they’d later roll out.

[2] And I’ve recently realized that I missed the Worriers 2011 debut, a single on No Idea.  Along with Fid's new band, Plastic Cross, who released an LP on Don Giovanni.