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Friday Full-Length: Weedeater, …And Justice for Y’all

Posted in Bootleg Theater on January 11th, 2014 by JJ Koczan

Weedeater, …And Justice for Y’all (2001)

“Maybe I’ll just head back/To West Virginia, by god…”

I’m not going to say that Weedeater are a band I put on all the time. They’re not. If I’m sitting down to a nice dinner with The Patient Mrs. after a long day, and we’re having cheese and crackers or something like that, she’s got a glass of wine, maybe I’m nursing the end of an iced tea or whatever it is, I’m not likely to be like, “Hey baby, time for some Dixie Dave.” My mother, bless her heart, used to tell me when I said fuck too much in school that there’s a time and place for everything. Ultimately, and after much reprimand, I realized she was correct.

And to that, I will say there are corresponding times when nothing else but Weedeater will do. I know that Buzzov*en and Eyehategod were there before them in the South and Grief and Negative Reaction too in the North — to say nothing of Bongzilla or any such Western predecessor contingent — but they captured something right from the start on 2001’s …And Justice for Y’all that I don’t think any of those other acts managed to nail in quite the same way. It’s not even about having an angry attitude, which of course plenty of sludge has. It’s about just sound like you absolutely do not give a fuck about anything or anyone. Stoned nihilism put to warped tape.

This was one of those times when nothing else would do but Weedeater, and as it happens, they’re kicking off a tour  in a couple days on the West Coast with Black Cobra and they’re slated to reissue their four to-date LPs through new label Season of Mist in advance of a fifth later in the year. One to watch for, I guess. Their last outing, 2011’s Jason… the Dragon (review here), was a hoot.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

I was all set to sit here and type out some blues song woe is me shit. Lousy week, front to back. And I don’t know if it’s the Weedeater or what, but seriously, fuck it. I don’t have the energy for that shit anyway and what would it accomplish? Bum someone out who’s maybe enjoying some good tunes? Fuck that. I hope you had a great week, and I hope you hear the Weedeater and fucking groove out and it’s a good time.

Tonight ended strong at least. Got back a bit ago from seeing Gozu debut their new lineup. An interesting venture they’ve undertaken, adding a second lead guitar. The show was good, and hell, it’s probably still going on. I split a little while after they finished to come back here and start this. Leaving a show to go home and write about music. There’s probably not a lot of people who would understand that one. That’s how it went.

Monday I’ll review that, and I’ll hit up Weedpecker and Insider next week as well for album reviews. Also Monday I hope to have up my list of albums to watch for in 2014. My hope is to start writing over the weekend. So far I’m over 30, so yeah, I guess it’s gonna be a pretty large undertaking. I think maybe I’ll leave lists alone for a while after that, though they seem to be pretty popular. Fucking even the New York Times does that shit now. Capturing a moment, I guess. I’ve never been much for the moment.

From the bottom of my heart, I wish you a great and safe weekend. Have fun, kick ass, and we’ll see you back here Monday for more good times.

Please hit up the forum and radio stream.

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Buried Treasure and the Sludge and Punk at the End of the World

Posted in Buried Treasure on November 21st, 2013 by JJ Koczan

There’s little question that Armageddon Shop makes its bones in the vinyl trade, and that’s cool. I’ve come to accept it at stores that what was for a time the format of record has in turn been replaced in prominence by the LPs that it originally took that position from. Turnabout. All good. Everything comes back around in time, or doesn’t, and I don’t mind craning my head to look at the spines on the wall of CDs in the basement store in Cambridge, my knees cracking as I crouch to see the shelves lower to the floor. It’s a reminder of the calisthenics I should be doing instead of buying albums in the first place.

My buying power is low at this point and I know it, but if you’ve been either to the Boston or Providence store, you know it’s not easy to walk out of there empty-handed. They’re gonna get you with one thing or another. This time around, it started for me with a used copy of Amorphis‘ lackluster 2011 outing, The Beginning of Times. Not an album I really cared to pick up, but for six bucks, I figured I could give it a home on the shelf and maybe find something in listening to it I missed initially. Next thing I know, here’s a copy of Zeke‘s second album, 1996’s Flat Tracker for $4.99, and the 1999 He’s No Good to Me Dead five-way split between Bongzilla, Grief, Negative Reaction, Sourvein and Subsanity for $11. That’s just over two dollars per band. How could I refuse?

The answer, of course, is I couldn’t. I was pleased to find later that I didn’t already own the split, which was released on Game Two Records, but even if I had, it would’ve been worth the asking price to revisit some early Sourvein — three of their five tracks here would show up the next year on their self-titled debut — and live Bongzilla cuts, along with Negative Reaction and Grief in immediate succession. That one-two punch would probably fill any sludge quota a given day might present — 15 decabongs — but with Subsanity in the center role, and Bongzilla and Sourvein following, you’re basically getting a 74-minute overdose. Easy listening it is not. The only one of these acts who wouldn’t go on to craft a significant legacy in the genre is Subsanity, whose third and final LP, Future is War, was also issued in ’99, but even they prove vicious in keeping with their company, all of whom are raw the way you think of oozing, scraped skin as being raw.

And Zeke? Well, Zeke were the super-fast punk band it was cool to like if you were into slow music. They always had a bit of strut to them, as “Daytona” from Flat Tracker will attest, and when they signed to Relapse to release 2004’s ‘Til the Living End, that just sealed their appeal. I remember seeing them at CMJ in NYC at some point around then and they had the fastest count-ins I’d ever heard, and then they actually played that fast. Flat Tracker is in and out in under 18 minutes and its 15 tracks are liable to leave you sucking wind as you try to keep up, but it’s also a lot of fun. Along with their 1994 debut, Super Sound Racing, Flat Tracker was reissued by Relapse, but the Scooch Pooch Records version has the original art, which is all the more killer for the fact that the lineup comes with each member of the band’s Mexican takeout order. Guitarist/vocalist Blind Marky Felchtone will have, “two chicken soft tacos, one bean burrito and a medium Coke.”

All discs considered, I still got out of Armageddon Shop on the cheap. There was more — and yes, I did flip through the vinyl section and drool at the assorted heavy ’70s and more modern wonders — but ultimately I resisted such devilish temptations and skipped out. I had my eye on a few other odds and ends on that wall though, so I have the feeling it won’t be too long before I’m back. Hope not, anyway.

Zeke, “T-500” from Flat Tracker (1996)

Armageddon Shop’s website

Armageddon Shop Boston on Thee Facebooks

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