ONE THOUSAND WORDS

REVIEW: BALL OF DESTRUCTION

(This review is part one of a Vinnie Stigma Special series) Madball's "Ball of Destruction" E.P. came out in 1989 on In Effect/ Relativity Records.

This album, which is the best album ever written whenever you are listening to it, starts off with the songs "Smell the Bacon" and "What's With You" played back to back. The very first thing you can hear on this album is Roger Miret playing bass. That in itsself is something to think about. One of the coolest frontmen in hardcore for a decade, suddenly playing an instrument (not counting when he 'played' guitar on cable access). The second thing you hear on this album, is Vinnie Stigma. This very second is the same second that this record goes from great, to instant classic, such as with every other record that Vinnie Stigma ever played on*. The first thing that Stigma does on this album, is hit the shittiest powerchord you have ever heard. I don't know if he did that on purpose, or if he really didn't give a shit, and this is exactly why I love Stigma. The drums build up, and the next thing Stigma does is a pick slide, also known as the worst thing you could possibly do with a guitar. Pick slides are for assholes and have never sounded cool, ever. Except ofcourse, if done by the best guitarplayer in the world: Vinnie Stigma. The song gets going, and is composed of the manliest of manly riffs. It's hard, stupid, and amazing. After repeating this riff four times, the song is done. I can only picture Stigma writing this riff, and figuring well, what kinda fuckin' riff am I supposed to play after this? Fuck it, song's done. Next. So let's recap what we have up to this point: one song, consisting of one riff, that clocks in at about 20 seconds, featuring lyrics about cops (pigs, bacon, smell the bacon, get it?), and is basically just a moshpart.

As soon as this song is done, Will Shepler hits the snare, announcing that it is time for "What's With You". This song, unfortunately, I cannot review. I do not know how. OK, fine, let me try: this song consists of a two note riff, that is played and then stopped, interrupted by a split second pick slide, played and stopped again by another pick slide, then played faster four times through, paused again, then played even faster. Then, a two note 'moshpart' is played (which lasts for two seconds, and features the best line in music: "what's this fucking revolution about?"). Then, the fast part is played again. And that's it. The total of both songs played back to back adds up to zero minutes and thirty-three seconds. It is at this point that you realize you are, in fact, listening to the best music album of all time.

The next song is a little gem called "Discriminate Me", originally written by the Psychos and popularized by Agnostic Front. This means that Stigma had been playing this song for about a decade when "Ball of Destruction" was recorded. Discriminate Me is literally the only song that could have been played behind the madness that is the opening track/s, because the opening riff is, basically, retarded. It sounds like it was written by a mongoloid child, who had a spasm in his left hand, forcing his fingers to uncontrollably slide back and forth between two notes over and over. It is the best guitar riff written in New York City. Once Vinnie is done partying up the fretboard with it, he knows only one thing: do a fuckin' pick slide. It's the only way he knows to let the listener know that the next part of the song is going to the sickest moshpart he or she has ever heard. This pick slide is a harbinger of truth, and the next three notes played will get anyone with half a braincell in the pit. Is there anything better than moshing while a twelve year old kid is singing "Give me a job, I gotta survive"? Apparently this kid also kept getting called a crook and a scum. NYC in the 1980s, it was a rough place to live. And let's not overlook Shepler, playing more drumrolls than humanly possible underneath a three note riff. He was thinking of Raybeez when he did this, I can feel it. Once the moshparts ends, a dumbed down version of the first riff (the mongoloid one) is now played, just for good measure. Fuck, that rules.

After these demented brainmelters of songs, Madball finally chooses to take it easy on their listeners with "We Should Care". At a mildly slower pace, a simple four note riff is played, until one of the highlights of the E.P. comes up: those two notes accompanied by the words "why...die". I have always wondered if this line was inspired by the band YDI (pronounced "why die") and I will never find out, because I'm definitely not going to ask. This is one of the only songs on the album where I'm not sure if it was written by Agnostic Front/pre-AF bands. It's slightly less insane and doesn't show up on any old demos or setlists. Then again, it features a classic party skin moshpart, and the New York classic "Bleh!". Anecdote: One time I saw Madball, and I'm not sure if they played this song (doubt it), but Freddy ended the song with a good old Bleh, and then went on to explain the origin of this classic word/sound. I felt honored, and I am going to honor this moment by not telling you.

Side A of the record ends with the best title any song has ever been given, namely "Colossal Man". Written by the Psychos, this song is perhaps the most retarded one out of the whole bunch. The song starts with a single chord hit/cymbal crash, followed by the hardest words ever uttered into a picrophone. You know what they are, and I would feel ashamed to have to repeat them in text, on a blog, on the internet. The song starts (after a sick pick slide, ofcourse), and the riff doesn't make any sense. The chorus doesn't either. One time they played this song with Hoya singing, and Stief and I (us being in a band named after the song) went totally nuts, moshed like idiots and confused every wigger in the house. Anyway, once the chorus is sung a second time, the moment of truth has finally arrived. This is the moment where the best guitarplayer in the universe and beyond does the one thing that guitarplayers do to show off their talent: Vinnie Stigma plays a fucking guitar solo. A feat he had not accomplished, or felt necessary, since roughly 1984. This solo, without any doubt, defies not hardcore, not loud music, not even all music ever composed. It defies human nature. It defies consciousness. It defies rules, regulations, rationale. It is beyond any and all comprehension. I don't know if Vinnie accomplished this masterpiece by an outer body experience, a moment of clarity, or smoking a fuckload of dust, but I'm sure if Jesus would have been alive to hear it, he would have moshed.

If you are not yet convinced that this record is in fact the best product ever sold to mankind, you can now flip it over. There is a side B. The first song on this side is my personal favourite. Simply called "Get Out", this song is about getting out. It starts off, oddly enough, with a riff from Agnostic Front's thrashmetal album "Cause For Alarm". It is played once, until Shepler decides he has had enough. Shepler wants to party, and announces this with his signature single hit on the snare. Now, another one of Stigma's patended four note riffs is yanked out of his guitar over a completely stupid drumbeat (sometimes referred to as the "skinhead fast" beat), one that no one had played in New York in years (unless you maybe want to count ABC No Rio as being part of New York). All over this animal of a song, the words "get out" are repeated endlessly, along with some other ones. If that isn't convincing enough, this is all followed up by... you guessed it, a pick slide by Stigma. You know what that means. A three note moshpart is coming up. Only this time, you prick, it is accompanied by Freddy Madball, the singer of Madball, saying the only thing that would have made sense: "Madball". When writing a moshpart for this song, Stigma knew that nothing would ever beat the moshpart from "Discriminate Me", so he figured he would just play that one, but altered, just enough. Well, either that happened, or Stigma had no fucking clue what he was doing, I don't know. Stigma rules. Ofcourse, once the moshing is done with, the fast riff is once again repeated, but before you start to notice similarities to the other songs, Freddy grabs your attention with this: "stay the fuck out". That's right, get out, AND stay out. The fuck out.

The next song is the Agnostic Front classic, "Last Warning". What can I even say about this one? Classic bassline, another shitty hit on a chord, another pick slide, another four note riff, another chorus written by a mongoloid with broken fingers, and the song ends with the stupid riff being played even faster. Is there anything this else songs need?

And what's best to play after an Agnostic Front song? That's right, an Agnostic Front song. Well, Psychos song, fine, but from an Agnostic Front record. This one is called "Fight", and is about fighting. I am pretty sure Freddy picked the songs by awesome one liner content, because you just cannot go wrong with "break their legs, we're gonna break their legs". The word "fight" is said 22 times in this 13 second song. You should probably give up on writing music now.

The final song on this record, is apparently the first Madball song ever written, and perhaps the only Madball song on Madball's first record. It's a party skin anthem called "It's My Life", with lyrics by a kid who just started growing pubes, talking about shaving his head. The verse has four notes, and the chorus has two. When the song is done, Freddy yells "skinhead" (the 15th and final time this word is said on this record), and then they play the song again. Fuck you.

*United Blood, Victim In Pain, Cause For Alarm, Liberty and Justice, One Voice, Live at CBGBs, Last Warning, Ball of Destruction, Droppin' Many Suckers, Set It Off.

SPANDEX YOUTH

About a decade ago, I was extremely obsessed with the 1980s. This obsession was focused mostly on exclusively listening to and knowing trivia about '80s hardcore, and fanatically watching '80s comedies preferably themed around high schools or police academies. At one time I was doing Push The Limit fanzine and was working on another zine that I named Spandex Youth, which would focus entirely on '80s stuff I was into. I was going to review all kinds of movie scenes, old hardcore and skateboarding photos, 8-bit video games, etc. I made a few pages, but never got around to finishing it. The other day though, I stumbled upon the only tangible evidence of my obsession from that era: the original photos I took for a Spandex Youth ad. I figured I'd pull a few of them out of limbo for you.
Keep in mind that when I took these (1999-2000) most hardcore kids were still either wiggers or singing about suicide in tight black shirts and studded belts. Being 'goofy' was not cool. Hi-top sneakers or 'oldskool' vans had not yet been remade. Ironic hipsters had not yet ruined the style. The 1980s were frowned upon by most in this terrible era, but I was on my own, "Livin' in the '80s"...

TURNBULL ACs

Nuff Said.

SHIRT STATS

As I was cleaning and doing laundry the other day, I finally decided to sit down and do something I had been meaning to do for a long, long time: figure out how many shirts I own. While I was at it, I figured I'd go all out and get some serious shirt stats going. So here we go:

Number of t-shirts currently owned: 182
Number of shirts I designed: 56/182
Number of shirts I paid for: 44/182
Number of shirts I actually wear: approx. 40/182
Newest shirt owned: Rush shirt given to me by my boss last week.
Oldest shirt currently owned: Megadeth shirt given to me by my mom when I was 11.

Do I think my shirt collection is impressive? Not at all. Do I think it's ridiculous to own that many shirts I don't wear? Kinda. Do I want to sell any of them? No. Why? Because some of them are too cool, because I still cling to the idea that one day I will fit into some of them again, and finally because most of them, even the shitty ones, have a story behind them that's worth more than your twenty bucks.

Oh wait, I forgot some stats:

Number of Beavis & Butthead shirts currently owned: 5
Number of Beavis & Butthead shirts that currently fit: 0
Number of Beavis & Butthead "school sucks" shirts I wore to high school graduation: 1

SHOOT GUNS, EAT PUSSY

Hey guys, still not much time to be doing quality posts lately. Working full time, size em up, doing art, playing guitar a lot, and I've also gotten into collecting guns which is starting to take up a big chunk of my free time. What do you think of my collection so far? Once the worst summer of my life is over I can start working on putting my assgroove back in the couch that is life. Both Adult Crash and Omegas will be releasing new stuff, I'm working on some other bands/projects, and I even have a few things I want to write about on here (whoa). I can't wait for this pathetic excuse for a summer to end. See you then.

A7 1983 THE PSYCHOS AGNOSTIC FRONT

(just in case you missed it)

THE NILS

I think it was 2002 when I picked up the "Something to Believe In" compilation on one of my trips to Montreal. Once I played it at home I couldn't say I was that excited about it, but there was this weird little song at the end of it called "Scratches and Needles" that I liked, for some reason. I hated melodic punk, but this song was too good. I considered it a guilty pleasure. I had heard of the Nils before, but pretty much dismissed them as 'not hardcore' and 'not Genetic Control'. Fast forward a few years, I'm now living in Montreal, and this guy Yannick does a post about the Nils and puts a link to the discography. He sarcastically says they do have other songs than the Scratches and Needles one, but at first listen, I don't agree. That song and it's hooks and vocals have been in my brain for too long, the rest doesn't hold up. Ofcourse, a few weeks later those other songs are creeping into my brain, as well. Around this time Chico posts a link to a Montreal Mirror article written about the band and the suicide of Alex Soria, their singer/guitarplayer. I started to read it, and while I could usually care less about some guy I don't know offing himself, this story really got to me. I have read it many times since. If you have a minute, I highly recommend it. Ever since then, the Nils have grown to be one of my favorite bands of all time. Songs like "In Betweens" or "I am the Wolf" are just plain incredible, and I like the former so much I have actually come to respect horns as musical instruments, which is quite the step for me (coincidentally, Yannicks band Whiskey Trench cover it on their new record). Alex Soria was an incredible songwriter, a tortured soul type of musician (like any good one, really), who had a soulful voice that managed to capture so much emotion, it just grabs me every time I hear it. I don't think I've been able to play a single Nils song without having to hear the entire album. In fact, a random updating of my muxtape is what brought forth yet another late night Nils session and this very blog entry. It also brought me to a video I never knew existed:

If that song didn't convince you, you might not have a soul. If it did, I'm sorry. You might spend many late nights listening to the Nils.

Trivia for the nerds: Carlos Soria played in Electric Vomit, a seminal 1979 Montreal punk band whose EP came out only last year. Alex and Carlos also both played in a band named Chino after the Nils (but I have yet to hear it). The Nils put out their last record on Rock Hotel/Profile, a notorious scam label you may know if you like the Cro-Mags. That's it. Go listen to the Nils. I can't believe you haven't already.