Columns - "Friday Night at the Death Club" 09.20.00

Friday Night at the Death Club! #4
By: Kenny

Hello you dirty fucking street rats! It’s about time for me to do time at the Death Club. Lot’s been going on in La La Land (Otherwise known as the Midwest proper). Rock Action Radio has done its’ second show from the "Temporary" Dangerzone, otherwise known as my Mom and Dad’s house, and Volume Two is far superior to the first. It even features Radar Secret Service AND Kill the Hippies LIVE! Tune In! Rock Action zine #6 is doing pretty well- it’s the best issue yet, and we’re getting ready for #7(To be released by Nov. 1st). We still need distro help for the zine, and some advertisements, so get in touch.

Black Bullets

My dog’s name is Bullets. She has one brown eye and one blue eye. She is part black lab, and part she- wolf. Just a baby; she’s only 9 months old. Running is her favorite thing to do, and she is very smart in coming up with ways to get loose so she can go out all night on the prowl. She always comes back, though. On August 8th, she escaped, and when my girlfriend Amanda went to yell for her, she heard a loud smack, and Bullets screaming. I ran outside right after the "dudes" in their white Blazer sped off. Bullets were lying on the side of the road in the gravel. She had a far off look in her eyes, and I thought she was a goner. We rushed her to puppy emergency, and I was crying.

Amazingly though, despite a stomach full of gravel (From her eating gravel, not the accident), internally, she was OK. She might live! I was psyched! Her back legs though, were not ok.

Her rear right leg was smashed right above the knee. There were 5 pieces floating around loose. Her rear left wasn’t much better. Her hipbone was 4 inches from where it should have been. When I took her from emergency to the surgical vet in the morning, some of the worst 4 hours of my life followed.

This fucking vet basically explained to me that he didn’t know if he could fix it. The option of putting her to sleep became very real again. Fuck that- we were going to find a place that could fix my puppy’s legs. The doctor in Akron made me feel tons better. They took Bullets, and we went home. She had surgery. She can’t run now, or even walk without help, but I know she’ll kick ass, and be sprinting by Christmas. But it’s a bit more complicated than that.

The smashed bone in her leg is held together with a long pin through the bone, and wire. Outside of her right leg, she looks like Lee Majors. We have the technology. She is the 50 Million-Dollar Dog. A big rod runs down the outside of her body, and is connected through the skin and to the bone in 3 places. The leg was also made a bit shorter to get better connection between the 2 main pieces. On the other side, instead of putting the femur ball back into the socket, they cut the top of it off to make it shorter as well, and seated it into a new socket. This provides her with some stability to allow the right leg to heal. Just so it works, eh?

Fuck man, I didn’t have the money to pay for all of this. But when I look into her eyes, I know she is fighting to get better, so she can get up and piss on my carpet on her own power someday. I’ll scream at her, but then feel bad, and give her a hot dog because she loves them. I’ll take her to someplace with no cars and let her run until she almost has a heart attack. This column is dedicated to Bullets- "Satan’s Little Helper". She will ride again.

Once Again, Ladies and Gentlemen- Fuck Rock and Roll! And Punk Rock, Too. Music in General, Actually.

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness- it’s all over. Too stale and pale, this game of rock and roll music. Too tired and uninspired, this rechargeable record, recyclable, fill in the ______, put the new faces here, Rolling Stones and Heartbreakers, ties and lame creepers, 1977, "rock and roll, dude", when I grow up, some know it all kid will come along and attempt to assume my punk rockin’ position, I’m the torch barer of retired ideals, yes sir- just sickening. Give me something new.

The arrogance of people who feel that they have some sort of obligation to update tired music for the sake of others is laughable. These people think someone who is gone is cool and want to be that for younger people like the aforementioned pseudo- star- it's that simple, I’d say. They were lame in school and want to be too cool for school, now. Like the one time they got beat up has earned them a spot in recreational history. By that I mean the modern, watered down versions of music history that are being recreated with new players everyday, all over the world. And who knows- maybe there’s some kid going by the name of Johnny Danger walking around Mars in fake leather pants. Yep; it’s all about the music.

College and Rock and Roll fatalism. Modern, white kid rockers are very similar to modern white college students. Both are just there, both don’t know why, both have nothing to say, and both clog up both of those toilets with garbage. All of which is done with the attitude that they’re doing somebody a fucking favor. If you go to college or are in a band, suck it. Give me music that burns.

Mod music really, really sucks. So does surf, garage, pop, pop- punk- have country and western cover band already. Give me music that tricks me.

Death to retro- shit, piss in the toilets junk. I’ve had it. No music.

Deadly Questions/ Deadly Answers.

Over and over again, we hear the same shit being recycled. And specifically of course, we’ll talk about punk rock. It’s so depressing to me to pick up the latest issue of Punk Rock and Roller, or ’77 Magazine, Anarchy Cough Medicine Rampage, Extremely Extreme, or whatever the newest "hot" zines are. Then you have the old stand- bys that are no better.

I was thinking to myself that a lot of the younger punks are really fucked up. I was thinking about how they’re really genre- conscious; really. The different style concerns have just splintered punk rock to shreds. Even in larger areas, it’s not uncommon to have 5 people turn up for a show. Then across town of course, at the emo, or crustcore, or garage, or whatever the flavor of the month show is, there’s tons of trend rockers. Don’t worry- if you come back next month there’ll be plenty of room up front. It’s pretty stupid, these little shits.

But you know what? Older punks might be even worse with the classification shit, unless they’re those real old "Seen it, done it" guys that think they’ve used punk to ascend into the consciousness exploding area, that is listening to Tom Waits and having a cyber- relationship with some 16 year old Op. Ivy fan from suburban Jacksonville. Yep, then there’re the fellas that still come around every once in a while, talking shit that exposes them as narrow fucks who got tattoos to be cool and have never bought a record or tape or cd or anything else from a store that wasn’t in the mall. Killer Exploited back- patch dude! Oh, sorry- I know you like Social D. now. Whiskey is really fucking cool, and you know what else is cool? 8- balls! And flames! And the horned hands!

The horned hands? Oh my goodness. As stupid as a punk giving the middle finger or the old 2 finger up the Casbah. But I do have a great respect for mid- ‘90’s Norwegian Black Metal, Judas Priest, Angelwitch, Motorhead, Venom, and of course the first two Motley Crue records, and the first Metallica, but metal really was never that cool. Just a fact. Metallica? They used to be kind of cool. What a bunch of fucking pussies now though, what with their having such heart attacks over this mp3 business and wearing make- up in videos, one of the main things that the band set out to destroy in the early ‘80’s. What kind of car do you think Lars Ulrich drives? I bet it’s nice. What’s his fucking problem? "Well, if we can stop this mp3 business, we get all the money, then for every car I buy I can buy one for James too and maybe he’ll stop buttfucking me." Buttfuckers, back to punk rock.

So yeah- these kinds of ‘tudes fuck up shows. Just a hint for the next time one of you sets up a show that’s a bust. Why don’t you open your little birdie minds, and make friends with some good bands that maybe don’t sound exactly like your band, and then you get all of their crowd at the show. What a genius plan! A little diversity? What an original concept- glad I thought of it!

That touches on a far more important issue, for me anyway, and that’s the music itself. I’ve learned that a scene built around a band that plays really killer music is better than a paint by numbers scene built around 10 bands that all sound the same- and not very good to boot. For example, in Kent, Ohio, there will always be a decent scene in that little town due to a band called Kill the Hippies, that not only is really killer, but have always been very supportive of punk rock and hardcore music. There’s also the Harriet the Spy house types who support emo, indy rock stuff, and hardcore type music. These two scenes work together, and in the end this creates a relatively good scene in what wouldn’t necessarily be the greatest town for punk rock. But always, well thought out music will perk up the ears, maybe not of Bill Mohawk and his girlfriend, but of those folks that kind of orbit the scene waiting to hear something that they can really sink their teeth into, or some of the older people that would love to help out and support a younger band that’s interesting and has some talent. Another fact. Where I’ve been living in Youngstown, Ohio is exactly the opposite. A much bigger area, with no sense or creation- just decay and destruction. God forbid one of the groove metal bands risks their image or local brat punk outfits gamble their hardcore integrity by playing with each other. They might get a record breaking 25 people at the show. What a hassle!

And this works the same for music itself. Diversity within a band’s sound can never be wrong. I’m not talking about taking ska and mixing it with funk. I’m talking about just being a regular old amazing, creative, energetic punk rock band with depth. That couldn’t be that hard, could it? Punk rock was not meant to turn into what it has become. It was not a concrete ideology, but rather one of out with the old, and in with the new- all done with drums and guitars. In the end though, punk rock always angrily accepted the likes of Berry and Elvis as reference points, and so should the bands in modern times. It’s fine to have influences. Everyone at one point or another is "influenced". I’m under the influence right now, in fact. But the important thing is to take these influences and update them, take them and make them your own, and create sounds that have never been heard before. A great thing about punk rock is that anyone can get involved, and become part of something, but the other great thing is that this can be destroyed and rebuilt at anytime. Change is necessary for any species survival, and punk rockers are no different. By living in the past, you’re assuring a cliché No Future for you. Wear plastic.

We’ll see what’s going to happen with the Death Club. Summer is over, and I’ve taken quite a break from punk rock. Sometimes I immerse myself in it, and let it dominate my thoughts to the point that I just get really fed up with it. Often times it just moves too slowly, and stagnates to the point that I can’t handle it anymore. It also seems like I’m always a year ahead of, or a year behind the trends. That’s not a totally bad thing. I want to bring new outlooks to the table. I’ve said before that I hate punk like you would hate an ex- girlfriend. You wish it could’ve worked out, you still love them, but… This is my point. I don’t have to accept anything, and in turn, I’ll continue to keep you all updated on the trials and tribulations that is my quest for a perfect youth culture. Everyday I get older age- wise and closer to death of course, and so do all of you, but it doesn’t mean that we have to sit still. I’m here to smash what I don’t like, and build something better in its place. I’m here for Friday night fights, and exits from the boring streets of our lives into the Dangerzone. When I die I’ll know that I gave them fucking hell.

Frankly, I Don’t Give a Damn- I Have No Friends.

I caught some attitude recently from a Mr. Chaz Halo of the Dimestore Haloes, and Pat from Pelado records about statements I’ve made within this web site about the "Rock N Roll Outbreak" zine. I’ve been corresponding with Pat for a while and never thought he would be the kind of guy to whine if someone had some criticisms about his zine or label. Much of the zine is very poor, grammatically; certain sections of it I’m saying. Most all of it takes the lame subject of rock and roll far too seriously, much of it is long- winded, and it all just adds up to being totally boring, to me- totally! That’s just my "opinion". Go pick up a copy and decide for yourselves. It’s nothing personal, but it always can be, so tread lightly. There you go. So, I just want to say publicly that I sure you guys are swell. I’ve talked to Pat since then, and everything is kosher, but I still wanted to bring it up. Use criticism to help you (All of you I’m talking at) to improve on your various projects. And though some people jumped down my throat at first, in the end, the RNR Outbreak boys understood this. Do you? Now, back to my hatred of music.


I hate it.


Like only a jealous ex-boyfriend could. But I’m getting over it. I’m "growing". In fact, I just made a list of records to order. So there’s your ending. I’m gonna’ order some records, most of which I’ll hate, and I’ll be back next month to explain it to you all, my loyal legions. Darkness!

Such Sweet Sorrow.

It’s been a wild summer, and I feel like I haven’t been in close enough contact with you people. Send me some responses of any sort, positive or negative. I’m going to start printing the letters in this column and giving direct response. This way, I can be assured that people aren’t misinterpreting my half- cocked ideas. I’m also going to really get going on my blank gen. Columns, and updating a lot more frequently. They might not be as long, but I’d like to make it a more direct relationship with those of you who are bothering to read it (this- what you’re reading now). Next column, big #5: Letters, less anger, more humor, stupidity, and danger! Start those letters coming! Love me- your friend in the Devil. Over and out.

Rock Action

Ok- a lot’s about to go down with Rock Action zine. Last call for the back issues. Issues #1- #5 can be acquired for $2ppd. Now as far as issue #6 goes, which features the Piranhas, Clone Defects, Commies, and Smogtown- I have to say that we are halfway through the second printing of them, and would really like anyone who doesn’t have a copy to order one for $2ppd. It’s a great issue, but we’re trying to be done with it so we can really get going on issue #7.

#7 will feature stuff by the same stable of columnists- Shaun "Rock and Roll Shark" Obnoxious, Amanda Miller, Robert Ledyard (Who brought you #6’s classic tale of fucking Muppets), and I’m attempting to put something together. VERY IMPORTANT: Someone from Europe sent me two interviews- one Mekons interview, and and Angelic Upstarts/ Red Alert number. They are great will be printed, but I have no idea who sent. There was a bit of a shake up with who was checking the mail for the zine, the interviews were saved, but they did not include the name of the interviewer. They’re really well done, and I’d like the person to receive credit for them when they are printed. Anyway, that’s also coming, along with a feature on Kill the Hippies- an interview, plus some extra shit. The wild world of skateboarding will once again rear its’ head in "seven", as well as a new feature on the importance of all punk rockers running out and buying motorcycles.

Record reviews- send em in, I’ll print them. We’re also looking for interviews, and records, tapes, and CD’s (See These Nuts!) to review.

Ads- still as low a $5! Get in touch.

Don’t forget the Joker,


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