December 2004 Archives

my entry in the kickstart bio contest (based on a true story)

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THE HARDEST WORKING GARAGE BAND IN NEW YORK

Kickstart began life as Mortado, in their hometown of Brooklyn back in late
2001. They scored many local hits around the turn of the milennium, and are
unbelievably still together, and still making great music, with the same
line-up—Eric 'Slick' Strickler, guitar and lead vocals; M. Fletcher,
bass; and Mary 'Gun' Gatlin, drums—to this day.

“I think we all started for different reasons,” recalls Gun, of their
distant origins. “Fletcher and Slick moved to Brooklyn from Los Angeles and
Taibei, and were already playing on their own, using samplers and a Nintendo
in the front room, and I was a punk without a cause. Exactly what year that
was may vary depending on who you talk to. Some say ’01, some say ‘02. I
think I have a flyer from March ’01, but before that we had played our first
show at a 'Save Greenpoint' fundraiser—not exactly top of the list for
all-time top garage venues! We strung a rope across the room to keep the
‘crowd’ back and had a moped for a lighting rig. As far as our musical
education goes, I think Slick took music at school, and Fletcher just liked
that you can't spell 'bass' without 'ass'. I don’t know where I got my
‘talent’ from but it seems to run in the family. We all just like to hit
things.

They soon changed their name to Kickstart and became known for their
distinctive almost-too-drunk-to-stand image, which, along with their urgent,
uptempo music and light-hearted lyrics, helped set them very much apart from
the rest of the genre.

“We became Kickstart because Mortado was such a shit name,” deadpans Slick.
“At the early gigs we just used to wear no clothes. After a while though,
black came in, so we started to dress in black to fit in. Giving in to
high-school style peer pressure had been a major influence on us, though not
for the violence, more the teenage angst…”

“And the image is an amalgam of many things. It may have been a conscious
effort to set ourselves in line with the somewhat unimaginative appearance
of late '90s garage bands or just a perception that looking a certain way
might be interesting and entertaining. We took some shit from some of the
self-appointed ‘real’ garage bands for not being garage enough, or whatever,
but I don’t remember anyone really making an issue of the image… other than
some Irish saying I must be a 'poof'!”

But before their debut album, the band spent several years gigging and
building up a strong local following. They even managed, after their very
first New York show, at Tommy's, to secure an—albeit basic, to say the
least—deal with Greenpoint Records, who released the ‘Mello Candy’ EP in
2002. It was a scintillating, cock-sure debut, surprisingly well-executed
for an opening gambit, and featured four songs, two of which remain
constants in the band’s live set even today: the pounding mid-tempo ‘Top of
the World’ and the irresistible ‘Fuck Paul and Dance’.

“We wrote songs about fucking, dancing, and all that happy stuff, but that
was really a conformity with the non-conformists,” remembers Fletcher, of
their early searchings for that little something a bit different. “We just
did what garage bands did until we developed our own style and voice. It
was, and is, all about the band as a concept, not just the music, but the
look, the attitude, the essence of Kickstart, that is not found anywhere
else.

“I remember the early days as a time of discovery, adventure, and
intellectual and artistic awakening. Garage encouraged people from small
towns all over the US to think differently and to take a different path. My
mom wasn’t too pleased when I quit my job and came home with purple hair,
but it was a personal revolution. I may have been a fashion victim, but I
was also a liberated mind ready for anything. The gigs were also a strange
mix of freedom and fear. Garage fans from different towns united together at
shows and vented while the band was on. But as soon as you stepped outside
and went your separate ways, you had to watch your back for drunks looking
for a freak's ass to kick.”

“I was a rather violent youth and spent half the time scrapping with the
neighbours or at school,” admits Gun. “The gigs were a mixture of
curiosity, fun and hate for most of us; ducking ashtrays or beer bottles was
a new skill we soon learned. I once played while having forks thrown at me;
one stuck in my bass drum and another in my tit! Now, that’s not nice, is
it?

“All in all though, it was the most fun anyone could have… because we
weren’t part-time garage; we were true to the cause. We looked forward to
the weekend; we would travel miles to see a show… for instance, I remember
we went to see Live Girls!!! on 99th Street… two cab loads of us… and that’s
ALL who showed up for the gig too! Well, us and a hand full of local Hell’s
Angels—even that turned into a brawl! There was nowhere that was safe, but
the excitement to see Live Girls!!! overruled everything… and we won the
battle as well!”

Within a year, Kickstart unveiled their first long-player, ‘100% Badass Rock & Roll’,
through The Monkey Xing, their ‘own label’ but essentially a division of
Bushwick Records. It took all the unique ingredients that had made the
‘Mello Candy’ EP so memorable, and refined and developed them, producing
several of the band’s greatest moments. Quite contrary to the relentless
thrash that was becoming so popular at the time, Kickstart dared to
incorporate funky melodies and overtly pop overtones into their sound.

Arguably the best song on the album, and certainly the most anthemic, ‘Can't
Do it Without You’, was chosen as a single. Ably backed by ‘Cat and Mouse’ -
it looks to cement Kickstart’s rapidly-growing reputation as one of the most
innovative and popular bands of garage’s new wave.

the pirate

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damn. dan savage is one of those people who probably gets off telling kids there's no santa claus. still, i got a laugh...

i've tried the email address, but nothing in the last 20 minutes. i was hoping he would have set up some kind of filthy auto-responder. the suspense is terrible.

anyway:

Q. Have you heard about "the Pirate"? This is when you're getting a blowjob from a girl and as you come you ejaculate in her eye. Then you kick her in the shin. The result is the woman squinting an eye and hopping up and down on one foot, holding her leg and screaming, "Arrrgh!" How many people are into this? —JACK OFF WANGS

A. The Pirate. A Hot Karl. Donkey Punching. The Dirty Sanchez. Icy Mikes . . . Not a day goes by that I don't get at least one question about a sex act that exists only in the imaginations of adolescent boys. I assure you, JOW, that no one has ever attempted "the Pirate," just as no one has ever performed a Hot Karl, delivered a Donkey Punch, or inserted an Icy Mike. They're all fiction. To demonstrate how easily a disgusting, fictitious sex act can be invented and disseminated, I've made one up myself: "the Louisville Plugger." It's too disgusting to describe even here. If anyone out there would like to know what the Louisville Plugger involves, send an e-mail to plugger@savagelove.net. I will e-mail you a description—hell, I'll send you a diagram. Then we can all sit back and see how long it takes for the Louisville Plugger to start coming up in conversations in gay bars, frat houses, and letters to sex advice columnists.

urban dictionary is probably a good place for the unfamiliar.

one more

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in case you haven't seen it before, here's the fountainhead starring skull force.

aliens

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the bunnies have some new slasher pics (and it's a wonderful life), and alien loves predator definitely has its moments.

the wisest human

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Evil Ass Educators Suppress Time Cube, and dumb ass students condone such evil. Cubeless institutions are spreaders of evil, and students lack mentality to challenge it. —(Dr.) Gene Ray

spam of consciousness

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pain medication... i'm a little afraid of it. i've not had good experiences. IMPORTANT BANKING ALERT! shit! i haven't balanced my checkbook in ages. superhuge dead nancy has been a little slack on the finances. life is what you make it, and i'm tired of overpriced pharmacy vists. really, tho. i had a cold, went to the doctor on insurance ($20), GOT THREE PREsc(stupid caps lock key)riptions ($45 + 20 + 5 (dr. lion promotes humibid; it's a great de-phlegmer)) and a lousy cold cost me $90! before health ins. colds were free! Speaking of suffering, britney and christina's boyfriends are in pain. their mothers and sisters are in pain. their BROTHERS are in pain! send them V|'C0'd1N! PLEASE!

Which is better? Pain medication, or a bigger and bustier you?

anti-wrinkle breakthrough vs. cialis soft tabs: same ad?

viagra vs. cheating wives: cause or effect?

are you looking for mortgage info? no.

lots of fake roleks watches in the spam today. today's forecast indicates cial1s showers this morning with fake $25-in-chinatown watches for $200 moving in toward evening.

is this idea burnt out yet?

sex & zombies

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argh. i'm exhausted. i had the strangest dreams last night, and it feels like i didn't sleep at all. they weren't that weird now that i think about it; i was reading reviews for silent hill 4 yesterday. the third in the series was too scary for me to finish, and the reviews brought back the tension of wandering around in the dark...

so: the dream was basically a remix of 28 days later and silent hill three. city taken over by zombies who can run, and me always running out of ammo for the gun and having to use that fucking lead pipe on the undead. the odd (and disturbing) part was all the sex. in the dream, there were pretty massive zombie-free zones on the beach, fairly well-protected, tho not entirely secure, as the zombies would sometimes try the swarm technique on us. as you can imagine, once safely in a free zone, after fighting legions of flesh-eaters to rescue the living, people fucked like bunnies.

and it was one of those dreams that you fall right back into if you wake up, which i did frequently as the dream made it... hard to sleep at times. and stanley decided to play fetch with himself in the bedroom at 4:00 am. he's got the old obsession back, and he's sort of figured out that if he drops the ball with a flick of his head, it's enough movement on the ball for him to be able to give chase. and that ball bounced loud on the wooden floors. after about fifteen minutes of it, i got up and stole his ball. and went right back into the zombies.

bitch! update

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ok; things are getting better. i'm not as swamped at work. at the loft, all the leaks are gone, except for the shower, and even there they replaced the head with one that doesn't point straight out the door. helen and i now have poles in the closets, so our clothes no longer hang in the living room on a beam twelve feet up, accessible only by standing on the top step of the ladder. they put shelves in those closets, too. dsl arrived on time. and while it didn't actually work at first, tech support fixed the problem (at eleven o'clock!), and the new modem is twice as fast as the old one (it's 1.5./384 Mbps, if you're a geek). it has a built in router, firewall, and it supports wireless networking. deluxe! i've run the cable to helen's office, so her machine's back up, and we're sorted on wiring.

the window on the back door is still made of wood. so it goes. still no light in my studio, but i stuck up a clamp lamp. it's not a classy ceiling-fan-mounted job, but it makes light. studio should be a little raw, really. and i got the new swing up today, so fuck it. things can't be that bad when you've got a swing. (tho this one feels much more dangerous than the old one. you've been warned.)

and helen's christmas party's on saturday! and pixies wednesday, as well as kickstart (with live girls!!! excellent!) at death disco, where i will do my damnedest not to sound like a retard again if i happen to talk to bpf. (getting to play the xxxmas party is pretty mighty, really, as death disco dublin has shane mcgowan d.j.ing for the same. and we cover the pogues! awesome!)

i've decided to give up the bitching for a while.

bizarro ukraine

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damn. they invited international monitors to their election, which their president stole. the opposition leader's supporters peacefully demonstrated nonstop in kiev for six days, despite very hostile weather, with military commanders refusing to act against their own people. their candidate was poisoned but refused to back down. (he even appears in the media, tho he's disfigured from the poisoning.) their govenment declared the election void and scheduled a recall (for the day after christmas).

and when ukrainian soldiers got busted, it was because they worked for the locals.

explodingdog.com

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live girls!!!

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live girls!!! play tonight at the pussycat lounge. hoorah! what a lovely way to end a truly crap week.

and i hear paul's going to play naked...

now with 20% more bitching!

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so: i talked to the landlord. he says a 'friend' of mine came by to move my paintings to a safer place. what the fuck? i haven't had any friends tell me anything of the sort. is he lying? trying to do a fucker on me? were they stolen? destroyed? sitting in a neighbors' loft?

and apparently my phone guy wasn't even looking in the right place! landlord says verizon put some high-tech phone equipment at the front of the loft to replace the old box in the back, where my guy was working. verizon installed this new equipment; shouldn't the verizon repairman have a clue about it? now i'll need to take another half day to get the right connection working, pay for the now useless jack he installed and for whatever work he's got to do next time. or fuck it. i'll just do what we did last time: string endless phone cords, couplers and splitters from the ninety-nine cent store around the loft, all coming off that one working jack we have...

fuck. i'm agitated.

all the other problems? they should be fixed by next week, the landlord tells me.

meh. my willing suspension of disbelief is faltering badly.

if you're curious, i've posted some pictures of the loft in the forums for the neice (she's not allowed to read the blog). appropriately, the quality of these pictures is very poor indeed.

faster, lofter clan! bitch! bitch!

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arrgh. i love the new loft. i do. but the devil's in the details, and the details got me down.

the guy from the phone company came yesterday as we have no dial tone, even tho we should. he confirmed: signal's coming into the house, but not into the jacks. must be a break in the wire, but he can't get to it. why not? the knuckleheads who built the place with faulty phone service also put the cable behind a brick wall.

these same geniuses just replaced the lights in the bedroom and studio with ceiling fans. i like ceiling fans, and the lights were only naked bulbs hanging by wires, but a lovely breeze is not a replacement for light.

and the closets still don't have poles for our clothes to hang on, so we hang them from a big beam in the living room. that worked out (temporarily) until they took back the big ladder that let us reach the hanging clothes. the shower door leaks. the base of the toilet leaks (but praise to jebus that it's incoming, not outgoing). there's a leak in the ceiling of my studio behind the drywall. they may fix that leak some day, but i have little hope they will ever replace the (eventually) moldy drywall. the kitchen drawers stick badly. the kitchen cabinet doors knock into each other when opened. our back door still has a pice of panel where a window should be.

and the missing painting count is up to two, and both are seven feet by seven feet, the largest work i have right now.

damn. i need a klonazepam.