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Note: While this story is based on actual events, it has been lightly fictionalized / exaggerated for your entertainment benefit. Except the parts about records… I would never, ever lie to you about records.

It’s Saturday and I’m having a lazy day, my morning routine of coffee and reading the news stretching into the early afternoon. I open my email and there’s a message from a woman who says she has a closet full of records she’s never going to listen to again. She wants to know if I’d like to have a look at them. She’s attached a file which lists all the artists in the collection, each one preceded by a number, presumably the number of records by that artist. At the top, separated from the rest of the list, are a bunch of well-known classic rock artists. 16 Grateful Dead records… cool, we can always use Dead records, and 16 is quite a run. There are also 8 Beatles, 6 stones, 7 Zeppelin… all stuff that sells. But as I dig into the list, I see things that look more interesting. 4 Clash records. A Buzzcocks LP. 1 Devo. 3 Captain Beefheart. A Fall record. A Saints record. Even a T.S.O.L. record. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it won’t be Hit and Run. After some back and forth, we decide I’ll drive out to her place to have a look at the records this afternoon. She seems very nice, and particularly appreciative that I’m willing to drive out to her home in Louisburg. She even sends a bunch of smiley face emojis when I tell her I don’t mind making the drive. I can see from her email signature that she works near downtown Raleigh, about 2 miles from the store, but I can understand not wanting to lug around a couple hundred records.

As I drive out toward Louisburg, I’m in a good mood. It’s a lovely spring day. I notice the thermometer on my car reads 72 degrees. The weather is literally perfect. I imagine the person with these records is some cool, late-middle-aged woman who was deep into music in the 70s and 80s. Who knows why she lives in Louisburg? Maybe she’s a librarian or a teacher, or maybe there’s a community of cool hippie-ish folks there I don’t know about. It’s not uncommon for me to drive out into the woods around tiny central North Carolina towns like Saxapahaw or Pittsboro and come back with an armload of Talking Heads and Brian Eno LPs. And, of course, it’s a maxim in the record-buying world that cool people are the easiest to deal with. If you’re smart enough to get into cool music, you’re usually smart enough to set reasonable expectations as to their value. Often, people are pleasantly surprised when I offer them any money for something they thought they’d have to just throw out. I imagine I’ll look over the records, give this person a few hundred bucks, and I’ll make her day and get a few cool records for the store.

I stop by the SSR warehouse and grab some boxes, then put the address in my GPS. I thought I’d be heading north out of Raleigh. There’s a road called Louisburg Road that branches off from Capital Boulevard, the main road that runs from downtown Raleigh north to a town called Wake Forest, an exurb of Raleigh with huge country homes and smaller developments full of retirees. I assumed Louisburg was just east of there, but the GPS took me straight east out of Raleigh, into the creepy, sparsely inhabited lowlands that stretch from Raleigh to the coast. Eventually I get off the highway, passing through the town of Bunn. Bunn had a population of 327 as of the 2020 census, and it still has a small historic downtown with some character. I even see what looks like a hip coffee shop. Before I know it, though, Bunn is in my rear-view mirror and I’m heading into the sticks.

When I reach the house and pull in, it isn’t what I expected. It’s one of those 3-bedroom prefab houses—basically an upmarket double-wide trailer—sitting in the middle of a big empty lot. There are no trees and there are fallow fields on all sides, the house like a strange growth protruding from the flat, empty landscape. There’s also an enormous truck in the driveway, the kind typically adorned with Punisher logos and thin blue line flags. When I approach the door, I see a Ring doorbell, which seems strange. Plenty of people have Ring doorbells, but usually it’s tech workers who have a thing for gadgets or rich people who live in McMansions that have all the most up-to-date everything. A Ring doorbell in the country, though, on a house in the middle of a bunch of fields where you can see clearly for a mile in every direction, strikes me as odd.

I ring the bell and it’s not a woman who answers, but a thick-necked bro with a tight t-shirt and product in his hair. I introduce myself. He shakes my hand, and he introduces his wife, the person I’ve been speaking to, who comes in from the kitchen. The woman is thin, looks like she works out a lot, and has bleached blonde hair. My mind drifts to an article I’d read that morning in the New York Times about how the new, Trump-era evangelical Christians aren’t as stuffy and uptight as previous generations of religious conservatives. A key piece of evidence was this “Conservative Dad” pin-up calendar, which has pictures of women from the world of right-wing punditry wearing bikinis and doing things like holding assault rifles and reading the Bible. I think to myself that this dude looks like someone who would buy that calendar. His wife looks like someone who would pose for it.

The records are sitting on the floor in the living room, spread across a few boxes. We chit-chat for a second and I start flipping, beginning with the box on the coffee table. The woman tells me that’s the stuff she thought no one would want, and based on the classical records and Time magazine box sets I can see poking out, she’s probably right. But I flip through them anyway, and a few records in I find an original pressing of Herbie Hancock’s Mwandishi. Then a few records after that, a copy of Let Them Eat Jellybeans. That’s a good start, though both are pretty beat. They look like they’ve been stored outside for at least part of their lives, the jackets dry-rotted, seams split, and the vinyl itself scuffy.

Next I move to the stack of Beatles records lying on the coffee table. As I pick them up, the guy says, “yeah, it’s so hard to figure out what records are worth. You look up one Beatles record and it’s selling for $10, and then another one that looks exactly the same is selling for $2,000.” I ease into my spiel, developed over many years, about how the Beatles records that sell for a lot of money are very rare, and they’re probably not the ones you have. I also point out these copies are trashed. They have the same signs of dry-rot as the previous box, but the vinyl is in considerably worse shape. I explain to him that the titles he has are primarily the less-desirable pre-Rubber Soul albums, and that in the condition they’re in, the most we’d sell them for would be $5, and it’s more likely that Dominic wouldn’t want something that junky clogging up his bargain bin.

If the Ring doorbell was red flag number one, throwing out a figure like $2,000 was red flag number two. When you’re negotiating, the first number thrown out is important because it sets the anchor point for the rest of the discussion. I know records, and I have a pretty good idea how much money I can generate from most collections I look at. When a person throws out a number that’s way more than that, it tells me I’m going to have to do a lot of work to adjust their expectations. Often, these are frustrating transactions, because I feel like I’m stretching to meet their expectations, yet in the end I feel like the person still walks away disappointed. As I mentioned, though, cool people with cool records are very easy to deal with. They respect my expertise and understand that we need to sell records for more than we buy them for in order to stay in business. On the other hand, situations like this, where the person enters the discussion convinced they’re being ripped off, almost always revolve around beat-up classic rock records. These people convince themselves their records are worth significantly more than they are, selectively looking at online listings that confirm their assumptions. When I try to explain my position, they assume I don’t know what I’m talking about or that I’m trying to rip them off. Fortunately, these interactions are usually easy to walk away from, because if I don’t buy some jerk’s Led Zeppelin records, it won’t be long before a much nicer person with a bunch of Led Zeppelin records walks through the door.

I move to the next box, which contains the classic rock titles that were bracketed off on the list the woman had emailed me. There are indeed a lot of Grateful Dead LPs. Most of the studio albums are there, plus a few old 70s, Trademark of Quality-type bootlegs with mimeographed covers pasted onto blank white jackets. The first record I look at is Europe ’72, because it’s probably the most valuable. The seams are split and there’s heavy ring wear, but all 3 LPs are there. They are covered in scuffs, but still playable. We’d charge good money for a nice copy of Europe ’72, but I imagine we could still get $20 for a beater like this. The rest of the Dead LPs are in similar shape. As I flip, we’re still chit-chatting, and the guy tells me he’s already put the entire Grateful Dead collection up on eBay, as a lot, for a Buy It Now price of $2000. I chuckled and told him that was way too much money, and he quickly got defensive, telling me the listing had 14 watchers. I let it drop. If this guy sells online, surely he knows there’s a wide gulf between someone clicking the “watch” button and someone forking over two grand.

As I get past the Dead and Zeppelin, the records get cooler. I knew there was some Beefheart, but I hadn’t expected an original Trout Mask Replica. The cover has so much ring wear the cover art is barely visible, but the vinyl wasn’t nearly as trashed as the Dead records. There’s also an OG Safe as Milk, again not in great condition, but with a thorough cleaning someone would certainly want it. A few records after that was a cool-looking psychedelic cover I didn’t recognize. I look more closely and it’s Tyrannosaurus Rex’s first LP, My People Were Fair And Had Sky In Their Hair... But Now They’re Content To Wear Stars On Their Brows. I can’t recall the last time I saw one of those. The vinyl on this record is a lot nicer, and after that is a solid copy of their 3rd album, Unicorn, and then a blank black jacket that turns out to be a copy of A Beard of Stars with the front panel of the unipak gatefold ripped off.

Somewhere around this point, the guy tells me where he got the records. I had figured out by now that they didn’t belong to the woman I’d been speaking to… she was absent-mindedly shuffling them around at one point and said, “Jerry Garcia… where do I know that name?” This clearly wasn’t a person who owned 16 Dead albums. There was a weird moment when the guy asks, “did I tell you where I got these records?” and the woman and I both say “no” at the same time. He explains that he’s a contractor who works for one of those companies that buys “ugly houses,” and that sometimes—his example was someone who dies and has no relatives—the houses are still full of stuff when his company takes possession of them. He found these records in a house his company had bought in downtown Durham, and his boss said it was fine if he took them. Then he started telling me about other things he’s found in houses and sold. He was particularly proud of some silverware from colonial America. He said a complete set of this silverware would have been worth $20k, but he was missing 4 pieces, so he sold what he had for $2k. By this point I’m realizing this person is both full of shit and an asshole, bragging (and, I’m sure, wildly exaggerating) about how he’s profited off other people’s suffering and bad fortune.

As he tells these tall tales, I continue going through the boxes. If it wasn’t already apparent from the Beefheart records, whoever amassed this collection had seriously cool, forward-thinking taste in music. When I looked at the list in the original email, I assumed the Saints record would be one of the crummy, post-Ed Kuepper albums you see all the time, but it was an EMI pressing of I’m Stranded. The Devo LP was Q: Are We Not Men?. There were cool 60s and 70s albums like Soft Machine’s 3rd and the Small Faces’ Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake with the die-cut cover. A copy of the Cramps’ Gravest Hits. And there were a bunch of hardcore records to go with Let Them Eat Jellybeans… T.S.O.L.’s first 12” EP, This Is Boston Not LA, and, best of all, a nice copy of (GI) on Slash.

After I flipped through everything, I gave the guy my honest assessment. He had some very cool records, and fortunately those cool records were, on average, in better condition than the trashed classic rock records he’d assumed were his most valuable items. I told him that, while he’d thrown out a bunch of very high numbers earlier in our conversation, my offer for the whole collection would probably be a few hundred dollars, not several thousand dollars. I hoped he’d see this as found money—after all, he’d gotten these records for free—and would be happy with $500. He replied he had planned to put the entire collection on Facebook Marketplace with an asking price of $1500. I asked him if I could pay him $500 to cherry-pick the titles I wanted from the collection, leaving him all the Beatles, Stones, Zeppelin, and Grateful Dead. He hemmed and hawed, so I told him I’d go back through, inspect the more valuable items more thoroughly, and try to give him a better offer.

I made a second pass and tallied everything up. I felt like I could make about a thousand dollars on the rarer titles in the collection, which was about 40 LPs. I was really hoping that, when I added in all the classic rock records, they’d add up to enough that I could offer him the $1500 he mentioned as his asking price. However, when I spent more time looking at the classic rock titles, they really were trashed. Adding those in, I thought the collection was probably worth around $1500 retail. It would cost us a few hundred dollars in labor to clean everything up and prepare it for sale, plus I’d likely get an earful from Dominic for bringing him more dirty, scratched up records. I’d already gotten one of those earfuls the day before about a collection in much better shape than this one, and I wasn’t eager for round two. I gave the guy another offer, which wasn’t that much different from my first offer: $500 for the 40 or so records I really wanted, or $800 for the lot. He was visibly disappointed. He told me he needed a few days to think about it. I told him that was fine, and I left.

As I drove back to Raleigh, a few things about this interaction got to me. I remembered how I thought I’d be dealing with a cool older woman who wanted to clear up some space in her house, but when I got to the door, instead I meet this douchebag and his aggressive negotiating tactics. I felt like I’d been catfished, like this guy has his wife correspond with potential buyers, acting all nice and sending emojis and shit, but then you show up and you’re dealing with some Pawn Stars knockoff. I also thought about how this guy basically found $800 in the trash, but he’s so paranoid of getting ripped off that he can’t just take the win… he has to maximize his return (on $0!), and he’s haunted by the idea someone else will make a few hundred dollars that won’t go to him. Maybe it’s ridiculous for me to think about it that way. There’s no reason I deserve those records just because I know what they are. But at the same time, it kills me that these records are being held hostage by someone who can’t and won’t appreciate them, just because he has some dim idea they are worth money.

Then I think about whoever originally owned these records. I know nothing about them other than that they lived in Durham. But the person who owned these records was one of my people. They wouldn’t have these records if they weren’t. And based on the state of these records and how this guy found them, I don’t think things ended well for these records’ original owner(s). I doubt they abandoned their house in downtown Durham and all their possessions to live out their days on a private Caribbean island. Maybe the records belonged to an old hipster whose health declined. Maybe it was someone whose addictions got the better of them. At the very least, they never got the chance to cash in on their good taste. This dickhead in Louisburg, though… he’s gonna squeeze every cent he can out of them.

Hello fellow Sorry Staters! Just a quick introduction. My name is Danny and I am the new guy at Sorry State Records. Just a little bit about me: I have lived in eastern North Carolina most of my life and call Raleigh my home. I have a beautiful wife, Molly, two cats (Keeks and Chloe) and a new pug puppy named Prudence. I have played drums in a few bands when I was younger and I am learning guitar and bass. Enough about me, let’s get into what I have been listening to this past week!

I have quickly come to find out that working at a record store puts you in contact with so many bands that you would have otherwise never heard of. I have a few picks that caught my eye my first week at Sorry State. First, we have Canada’s Home Front—Games of Power. This record is a post punk listener’s wet dream. This record combines synth and post punk with some gang vocals, like on the track, “Nation,” which features The Chisel front man, Cal. Currently, you can catch Home Front on tour with the Chisel in the U.S.—Check them out!

Another band that I have started listening to this week is Prison Affair. Egg punk at its finest. This band is fast, catchy and most importantly you can shake your ass to it. I recommend jumping up and down while doing a spazzy robot while listening. Egg punk is a new genre for me and I am starting to consume all that I can in the genre.

Thanks for reading! Go outside and run in circles or play a board game inside! Who cares!

What’s up Sorry State readers? I hope everyone is having a nice week. While organizing some of my records, it really struck me how much stuff I get from the bargain bins. It’s hard not to when working with a walking musical encyclopedia like Dominic. He’ll pull out some random $4 record and be like “have you heard this? You should get this,” and he’s always right. So many of my favorite records have come from the bins. You start to get excited about random shit in bargain bins. Dom and I were excited last week cause we found a record consisting of just train sounds and noises. It wouldn’t be the same if this record costed $30 instead of $3. It always confuses me when people ONLY buy brand new sealed records. We could have a record someone is looking for and you’ll pull out a copy and they’ll say “oh it’s used? I only want a new copy.” To each their own, but I think it’s funny when someone will pass over a $15 copy of a record they want, but would happily pay $50 for a brand new RSD release of the exact same record. Not for nothing either, but I’ve had worse luck recently buying brand new sealed copies of records that are warped, scratched up, scuffy, etc., whereas with a used record I know what I’m getting into. I digress, but I had to get on my soapbox for a minute about the often overlooked bargain bin, which leads me to the record I’m writing about today, The Sons of the Pioneers - Cool Water, a collection of classic western favorites. Dom and I found this gem the other day and decided to give it a spin. What first caught my attention was the title track. I’m familiar with the Marty Robbins version, which is one of my favorites of his, so I figured I’d give this one a chance. Plus, who doesn’t love cowboy songs? Listening to this makes it feel like you’ve been sittin in the saddle riding along the trail all day. My favorite track on here would probably be Blue Shadows on the Trails, a song I wasn’t familiar with before but instantly became hooked on. It’s a slower, smoother ballad, but it has this really cool vocal harmony in the background that goes on throughout the song that sounds like a steam engine whistle or something. It has an almost dreamy sound to it. Anyways, my main take away from listening to this record is that cowboys really like to sing about little doggies gettin along.

Hello and thanks for reading.

Remember last week when I mentioned the PayPal debacle in association with ABSOLUT? I explained that I had asked Daniel to try and buy a copy of the tape after I changed the product title on my website and had still no luck. Well, now PayPal has "limited" Sorry State's account, which has resulted in transactions being rejected since Saturday. Since Sorry State is such an in-depth operation, this is a million levels more of frustration than what it was like for me to personally deal with. I know there are a ton of people who use PayPal to pay for Sorry State orders, especially international customers. I'm sorry to anyone who has not been able to order as a result, and I hope PayPal can resolve this issue ASAP so we can get on with things as usual.

This week I will be writing about this killer reissue of the 1977 hit single Mucky Pup. General Speech has brought us this reissue alongside LEGION OF PARASITES. While I am equally (if not more) excited about the LEGION OF PARASITES reissue, I haven't checked it out yet, so I will focus on PUNCTURE this week. PUNCTURE technically first came onto my radar in my early teens via THE EXPLOITED. On their 1981 debut LP Punk's Not Dead, they cover Mucky Pup. The cover is actually the second track on the record. I used the word "technically" a moment ago cos while I knew THE EXPLOITED so well for so many years, I had absolutely no idea this was a cover song! I think it especially threw me off cos the track appears at the beginning of the record, rather than where I would expect a cover to be at the end of a record. It was only just a few years ago that I discovered the song I loved and knew by THE EXPLOITED was in fact originally done by PUNCTURE. We were up in Philly for Something To Talk About and ICD10 busted out a cover of Mucky Pup. I was so stoked and rocking out to what I thought was EXPLOITED, to only (somewhat) embarrassingly discover I didn't even know who the song was by, haha. When I learned the song was originally by PUNCTURE, I checked it out first thing upon my arrival home.

While I loved EXPLOITED's take on it, man nothing beats the original recording by PUNCTURE. It's like kinda janky and sort of jangling sounding. It reminds me of anarcho a bit, actually. The B side track is quite a bit different, sounding much more like a '77 band. This single was the only release from PUNCTURE, and it was also the debut release for Small Wonder Records. There is a lot of great stuff on Small Wonder, but the two bands that stick out most to me in their catalogue are CRASS and ANTHRAX. I feel like most records on this label are not super expensive or hard to come by, but I have not managed to secure myself a copy of Mucky Pup. It was reissued once before actually in 2011, by a US label. Obviously, I didn't know who PUNCTURE was in 2011, and by the time I did learn, those reissues were all bought up and pretty much non-existent on the second hand market. When I saw General Speech had this one in the pipeline, I got very excited to finally land a copy of this classic! Sorry State just got our copies in, and as I write this we are working to get them available on our site. If you check back soon we will have 'em ready for ya. I think that about sums it up for me this week. Thanks for reading, and thanks to everyone for your support!

What’s up Sorry Staters? Can you believe it’s April already and Easter has happened? We’ve already had a taste of summer with a blast of warm weather here this week. May we have a few weeks of spring please? March Madness is about to conclude on Monday and unfortunately our NC State Wolfpack didn’t make it to the final, but played great all the way and we’re very proud around here. Unless you follow Duke or Carolina, that is. Ha! Not that I follow college sports too closely, but being local, I’ll get into the spirit of things.

John Scott mentioned the other week that his musical choices are largely informed by the current weather, and I think many of us can agree on that. I know personally that as soon as the sun is out and the temperature rises, my record selections often favor more tropical fare shall we say. Although I have never been a surfer, I have always had a soft spot for surf music. In particular, the tougher edge surf guitar sound that also combines a sci-fi space-age element. If it sounds like Batman with a theremin and Star Trek theme vocals, I’m interested. Add a cover with rocket ships and aliens on it, even better. We have all that and Elvis on my recommendation for you this week. It’s In Space by The Hamiltones on Swimming Faith/Big Neck Records. Not to be confused with the R&B group of the same name that hail from here in North Carolina.

The Hamiltones come from Buffalo, New York and have a demo tape dated from 2015, so have been around close to a decade now. Their first full length LP, Dracula Invitational, 1791, was released in 2021 and In Space is their second. Just like that first LP, which was the soundtrack to a fictitious Dracula movie, this album is also a soundtrack to an unmade movie. As the title suggests, this one concentrates on space and aliens rather than vampires. Musically, the palettes are similar. Surf guitar a la Dick Dale, The Ventures etc. but mixed with some sci-fi sounds of the sort you’d find on soundtracks to drive-in B-movies from the 50s and 60s. I do the band and the record a disservice by breaking it down quite so basically, but you get the gist.

Perhaps because retro reissue label Sundazed Records used to be based in Coxsackie, NY and served the local populus with good surf and garage records for over two decades, there are more than a couple decent surf combos from the area. Who knows? Buffalo has an active music scene representing many stripes of the rock ‘n roll beast. Indeed, Hamiltones main man John Toohill wears many caps himself, chief among them being the brainchild behind HC Noise band Science Man. That’s probably his most recognizable band, but not the only one. He’s also in Ismatic Guru and Brute Spring to name two other projects. These are more synth-punk and industrial sounding, with some weird psychedelic stuff mixed in.

Back to The Hamiltones and this record, In Space. As I mentioned, it’s a soundtrack to an imaginary film about moon people, music made in space, and a CIA cover-up plot involving aliens and Elvis. The package to the record is ace. The outer jacket apes an old Phase 4 Stereo LP with suitable images of the moon and a space capsule. Inside the gatefold, we are treated to a cartoon painting of a wild party scene on the moon featuring go-go dancing Barbarella alien girls, flying saucers, laser shooting astronauts and assorted alien characters. Even Dracula makes an appearance. Besides the record, which features an awesome synth tone locked groove that could play in a new age crystal shop all day and no one would notice, there is a manilla envelope purporting to be a CIA file. On opening, we find a secret dossier and a seven-inch single with sounds from The Moon People. Listeners are encouraged to play the record between the two sides of the LP to enjoy the full experience. I gotta say, I love shit like this. It appeals to me on so many levels and I certainly don’t consider myself any kind of authority on sci-fi and alien conspiracy theories or surf music, really. It’s the music that’s the main sell here, and that delivers handsomely, in my opinion. This could have come out in the 60s or any time after, and checks all the right boxes stylistically and more. No matter how much of a sci-fi or surf fan you are, I think you’ll find plenty to like and enjoy on this platter. Easier for you to listen and decide yourself, so hit this link here to check it out. Say hello to the Silver Surfer for me when you hang ten past Saturn’s rings and don’t stare directly at the sun during the eclipse.

Later - Dom

What’s up Sorry Staters?

We’re already about a week into April. Funny enough, (at the time I’m writing this) last night I went to go to see Adolescents, Circle Jerks and Descendents. Originally, I had no intention of going. The show was at this bigger club in Raleigh called The Ritz and tickets were pretty expensive. But last-minute, Zander from Circle Jerks visited the store and offered to put a few of us Sorry State employees on the guest list. I’m not sure what I think about his new solo record exactly, but it was a very nice gesture on his part. Dom and Usman ended up not going, so I just rolled solo to the gig. Kinda weird. But sure enough, there was a ticket waiting for me at the box office. The show was sold out and PACKED, which stressed me out, but I did run into a few friendly faces. It bummed me out that the only original member in Adolescents was Tony, but I enjoyed watching all the bands. Honestly, the Descendents came out sounding the most tight and professional and got the best crowd reaction. Not surprising, I suppose. Once they played “Myage,” I dipped out early. Beyond that, as far as punk gigs in the greater Raleigh area, things have been pretty dead for a while. Luckily, there’s a few sick gigs coming up this month that I’m excited about. The first one is on April 7th at our local watering hole Kings, and the main attractions are punk-metal ragers Absolut from Canada. Then I’m really looking forward to this benefit gig at Rumah on April 20th—Shaved Ape, along with Meat House and new group Starving Bomb will be rockin’ together for a Free Palestine relief effort. There are a lot of other local events going on that same day, but hopefully the punks and freaxxx will show out for a rager and a good cause. Then just 2 days later, members of the Sorry State stable of artists Deletär from France are gonna rip in Raleigh! Hell yeah.

Speaking of 4/20 (hehe), the other big event we always know is on the horizon once April comes around is Record Store Day. Is it too early to talk about RSD releases already? I don’t care; this is what’s been on my mind this past week. Boxes, boxes and more boxes of fresh, exclusive titles have already been piling up on Sorry State’s doorstep. Honestly, I always have mixed feelings about RSD. Usually, once the new list of RSD-branded titles is made available to the public, I kinda roll my eyes. As I’m scrolling through, rarely do I see any records that grab my attention. You almost get kinda bored with the predictability of what records they decide to do: there’s probably gonna be a The Cure-related reissue (most likely a picture disc), some sort of Nuggets-related box set, something with the Grateful Dead, some sort of bloated triple-LP live bootleg by a crowd-pleasing classic rock band, a reissue of a famous movie soundtrack for $30-40 that you can probably find an old copy of at Sorry State in our bargain bin… I dunno, sorry if I’m sipping on the Hate-orade. Long gone are the days of packaging The Fix’s Vengeance and Jan’s Room as a double 7”. That’s all I’m saying.

While the punk titles might be in short supply, every now and then some cool heavy metal reissues come out for Record Store Day. One record in the batch this year is a fresh pressing of Death Penalty, the debut album by Witchfinder General. Knowing me, it might come as a surprise to some Sorry State readers that I even enjoy some Witchfinder General. I’ve been known to indulge in some dirtbag headbanger tendencies from time to time. But the other day, news of the RSD reissue inspired me to go dig out my og copy of Death Penalty. I gotta say, I threw that slab on the platter with fresh ears, and Witchfinder got me rockin’ out in no time.

How does one describe Witchfinder General? I guess the band is an early example of what the kids are now calling “trad metal” or traditional heavy metal. Death Penalty was released in 1982, which was the era when the tail-end of NWOBHM was still lingering, but also when speed metal & thrash were just beginning to emerge as the dominant force in the heavy metal landscape. But Witchfinder General really kind of set themselves apart by sounding much more reminiscent of 70s Sabbath. Thick, girthy guitars that to me sound heavily down-tuned—which is interesting, because besides Tony Iommi tuning down to account for his chopped off finger tips, I think down-tuning the whole guitar for that “doomy” sound was pretty uncommon at that time. The lead singer “Zeeb” (no one knows his real name lol) approaches the mic with what I affectionately refer to as billy goat vocals. Come on, y’all know what I mean, right? It’s that more high-pitched singing with a warbly vibrato. As a result, many annoying imitators would follow. But with Zeeb, I dig it.

This record was released on the aptly titled indie imprint Heavy Metal Records. Early on, around 1980, the label began to predominantly put out 7” singles in true DIY fashion. There’s an unspoken, yet detectable mission statement of sorts that this label was dedicated to only releasing real deal, traditional, “true” heavy metal. And ya know what screams authentic heavy metal more than anything else? A bunch of dudes in renaissance fair garb slaying a sinful, evil wench wearing lingerie while in a graveyard. Titties, cloaks, and swords… Horns UP, amirite? And how does the band up the ante on the 2nd album? Instead of just one, there’s 5 nekkid ladies being attacked. It’s all pretty silly.

I guess the medieval aesthetic lumps in Witchfinder as an early example of the whole “doom metal” thing. I mentioned Black Sabbath earlier. Especially the instrumental intro to the song “No Stayer” not only sounds similar, but I think the guitar player is literally imitating particular licks that Tony Iommi would play. Sounds like “Electric Funeral,” I’m pretty sure. Kinda crazy. In general though, I find a lot of pure doom metal pretty boring for my tastes. Like when you get into Candlemass territory, everything becomes so like ceremoniously corny cabaret. Witchfinder stands apart in my mind because they have songs with a driving, propulsive tempo. More edgy. And not to mention, an element of, dare I say… FUN? The dudes in Witchfinder General don’t wanna sit around throwing eye of newt into a cauldron or whatever. They wanna rock. Like, you could still cruise in your convertible with the top down wearing aviator sunglasses jamming most tracks on this record and feel badass as hell. For me, the total banger hit off of this record is “Free Country.” Every time it gets to the chorus and is like “Look out for me-eeh-eeh, let’s trip on LSD!” I’m like, ooooh fuk yah. He’s talkin’ about all kinds of shit in this song. Mushroom tea? Yes please. My man says, “amphetamine is real good speed.” True, true. No doubt, no doubt lol. But he’s gotta draw the line somewhere when he goes, “Heroin is a killer, you gotta say no.” Stick with that hippie shit. That’s what the druids would do.

I know this record has been reissued before. Back On Black did their treatment on Death Penalty, but the latest pressing that was only available as a picture disc? Big no no for me. So really, this album has been out of print for over 10 years! Realizing this makes the RSD reissue feel more exciting in my mind. And it’s also cool that the new version is back home being released on Heavy Metal Records once again. I didn’t crack the RSD reissue open obviously, but I wonder if the record is on color vinyl or not. My og copy is on clear vinyl. PS, my copy is missing the insert. This is a long shot, but if anyone reading this has an extra insert they can spare then hit me up!

That’s all I’ve got this round. Look out for me. I’m about to slip into my monk’s robe and brew some mushroom tea. Or just drink beer. We’ll see. As always, thanks for reading!

‘Til next week,

-Jeff

Iggy & the Stooges: Raw Power 12” (Columbia, 1973)

This weekend the Stooges’ classic Raw Power provided an excellent soundtrack to doing my Sunday chores around the house. Not that one needs an excuse to pull Raw Power off the shelf, but on this occasion I listened to it because of a podcast I just started listening to. It’s called The Cobain 50, and the podcast plans to explore the list of his top 50 albums that appeared in Kurt Cobain’s journal, with one episode devoted to each album. I’ve always found that list interesting. It’s clearly not the type of meticulously thought through list a music critic might publish in a magazine... it’s more like something you’d dash off on a long, stoned Wednesday afternoon when you can’t think of anything better to do. And while Kurt had exquisite taste in music, he was also very young and living at a time when underground music was difficult to access. I can’t help but wonder what Cobain’s list might have looked like if he had been born in 2000 and composed it in 2020 after spending his teens rifling through obscurities on YouTube.

The podcast’s first episode is on Iggy and the Stooges’ Raw Power, a fitting opener since Cobain cited it as his favorite album of all time, not just on this list but in other interviews, too. The podcast is pretty short (about 25 minutes), and after a short introduction to the podcast and a capsule history of the Stooges, there isn’t much time left to talk about the album at any length, and the hosts don’t really offer any deep analysis. I think one host even notes that preparing for the episode was the first time he’d really sat down with Raw Power and given it an attentive listen. I guess it’s not fair of me to be annoyed with this because the hosts are a lot younger than me and I’m not their target audience, who I’m guessing are younger people who might like Nirvana’s music, but don’t know as much about them and aren’t steeped in 70s and 80s music. But while the episode didn’t give me any new insight about the album, it sparked the urge to revisit it, so kudos to them for that.

The second episode in the series is about the Pixies’ Surfer Rosa, and that episode aggravated me. I was telling Jeff that I should have made Surfer Rosa my staff pick since I have a lot more to say about that episode, but I didn’t actually listen to Surfer Rosa, so it doesn’t seem appropriate for my staff pick. I’m not even sure I have a copy of Surfer Rosa. I can’t remember the last time I listened to an entire Pixies record. I loved them when I was younger, but at some point I went cold on them. I still enjoy them whenever I hear them, but their music doesn’t spark any kind of reaction in me beyond a faint whiff of nostalgia. Part of my souring on the Pixies might have been seeing them play an utterly joyless set in a basketball arena on their first reunion tour. They sounded exactly like the records, but they literally didn’t say a word between songs and I got the impression they really didn’t want to be there. It was depressing.

This is nit-picky, but there was one aspect of the Pixies episode that especially irked me. The hosts spend much of the episode talking about Steve Albini, who recorded both Surfer Rosa and, of course, Nirvana’s In Utero. The hosts really try to drive home this claim that, after Nevermind’s gloss, having Albini record In Utero was some kind of giant middle finger to the system. Granted, I don’t think Albini was the person Geffen wanted to record In Utero, but Albini had worked on plenty of high-profile projects at that point, including records for major labels. And the proof is in the pudding... does In Utero really sound all that different from Nevermind? It still sounds huge, clear, and powerful... it’s not like they had their buddy record the album on his broken 4-track. Another thing that really irked me is that the hosts kept calling Albini the “producer” of In Utero, Surfer Rosa, and all the records he recorded. Rather famously, Albini hates the title producer and prefers his album credit to read, “recorded by Steve Albini.” Not only did they keep calling Albini a producer, but one host even says that Albini is his favorite producer of all time. It’s like, dude, your favorite producer of all time is not even a producer!

Anyway, back to Raw Power. I fucking love the Stooges. I remember last fall, when I was flipping through my records to see if there was anything I wanted to purge to make the used bins at the shop look nice for the Sorry State 10th Anniversary Weekend, I discovered I had several copies of all three Stooges albums. For each album, I had the first copy that I had bought, which I felt a sentimental attachment to. For the first album and Fun House, I also have copies of the very cool-looking Russian pressings. And then for all three I also have a nice original pressing. I think I ended up getting rid of my starter copies because there’s no need for me to keep a bunch of late 90s / early 2000s represses in my house when I’m never going to listen to them. But it’s a sign of how important those albums are to me and how formative they were that I felt some pangs at the idea of parting with these totems.

I wouldn’t mind having one more copy of Raw Power, though, because I have some attachment to the remix that Iggy did in 1997. This was the first version of the album I heard. I remember buying it while I was working a deathly boring summer job between my first and second years of college. I had very little to do at that job, but thankfully there was a record (well, mostly CD) store down the street that I would stop by on my lunch breaks. I made pretty good money at that job and I had very little work to do, so my purchases that summer were adventurous (for me, at least). It was only later that I learned how much people hated Iggy’s remix. People hated the original mix of Raw Power, but it seems like people hate Iggy’s mix even more. Having been weaned on Iggy’s mix, Bowie’s original mix sounds shrill to my ears, the higher frequencies on the guitars so piercing they’re almost painful when you really blast it. It would be nice to have a vinyl copy of the Iggy mix, since whenever I listen to one version of the album I invariably want to hear the other.

Maybe I’ll keep you updated as I make my way through The Cobain 50. I’m interested to hear what they do with the hardcore records on the list. If I’m so irritated with the way these guys talk about Raw Power and Surfer Rosa, my head might explode when they get to the Faith / Void split.

What’s up Sorry State readers? I hope everyone has had a nice week. I’ve had a strange day. I woke up really hungry and my stomach was growling, but that’s not out of the ordinary. I tried eating some breakfast. That didn’t help much, but I kept going on with my day. Lunch time came around and I had a big ‘ol sandwich, but still I was hungry. By the time it was dinner, I probably polished off my whole plate in 3 minutes, but my appetite still grew larger. I thought I was losing my mind. I tried everything but no matter what I did, I was still hungry. Frustrated, I sat down and decided to listen to some records to take my mind off it. I threw on Joy Division’s Substance. Surely this classic would distract me from my insatiable appetite. I was about halfway through Transmission when I felt like I was slapped in the face by the answer to my problems. I don’t know if it was a moment of clarity or insanity, but this hunger had driven me to the brink of my sanity, and I knew what I had to do. I ripped the record off the player and held it in my hands and took a big ass bite straight out of the vinyl, the first two tracks Warsaw and Leaders of Men. I’ve never tasted anything better in my life, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the hunger was going away. I ate the whole damn slab and felt like I just had a five course meal. Sometimes if you feel that hunger that can’t be satisfied by a meal, you need Substance.

Hi Sorry State fam! How is everyone? I’m good. This past weekend was a warm one in Raleigh. And I had an air conditioner scare! It just stopped working. If you live in a humid as hell place, you know the feeling of sheer panic. Is it ever less than a grand or two to repair your air conditioner? I swear no matter how big or small the problem is, the total cost is the same. Luckily, it kicked back on out of nowhere after a couple hours. That’s literally the only thing I can remember from the weekend! Ha! I need to get a life.

Well, it didn’t take long to figure out what I was going to write about this week. While browsing through some new arrivals, I saw a name that looked really familiar. It’s the debut LP from Itchy and the Nits called The Worst of Itchy and the Nits. I put it on and it was an immediate yes. Come to find out the reason the name sounded familiar was because we played their demo here at work almost a year ago exactly, and really liked it. This LP, brought to us by Total Punk, contains their demo released on Wartman Inc. as well as five new songs recorded by Ishka Edmeades, who you may know from Tee Vee Repairmann, Satanic Togas, and other projects. A total of 12 tracks that each hover around a minute long.

Let’s back things up a minute for some background info. The band is a three-piece from Sydney, Australia. Beth, Eva, and Cin switch off on vocal duties, which adds some cool melodies and dimension. They are a very hooky garage punk band with pop-style melodies, blunt lyrics, and simple, primitive guitar style.

To me they sound like the Donnas from their early days. They’ve also been described a punkier Nikki and the Corvettes, who I admittedly have not heard. But I thought it may be useful info to help pique your interest! In fact, I read in a fun little interview with them that they are the most inspired by both of these bands, as well as The Gizmos. They even cover a Gizmos song on the record (Tie Me Up).

Itchy and the Nits have a healthy dose of attitude, sense of humor, and silly, cheeky lyrics. The opening track, Theme Song, is one of those undeniably fun and catchy songs with lyrics like “Itchy and the Nits! Itchy and the Nits! Scratch your head and scratch your bits! Shake ya butt and shake ya tits!” And not to mention the several itch-themed song titles like Crabs, Parasites, and Fleas. They also have a song called Dreamboat that is admittedly about their shared crush. I’d really like to know who the dreamboat is.

Like I said, all three members share vocal duties, which makes the choruses sound fresh and not repetitive. They have some moody riffs that pair well with their vocal melodies. Their overall enthusiasm is absolutely infectious.

I’m really glad that the demo songs were left as is, because they already fit so well with the five new tracks. The demo tracks sound a little more primitive than the new tracks, but altogether, the 12 songs make for a really cohesive record. My favorite tracks are Crabs, Goner, and Tie Me Up. Check it out!

Ok, I’m gonna wrap this up. I hope you all have a great week and thanks for reading! Until next time!

-Angela

Hello and thanks for reading. This week I will write briefly about this new ABSOLUT cassette that was released to coincide with their upcoming tour dates in USA. It’s kinda crazy to think this band has been around for over a decade now. They really caught my attention with their demo, and I have been a huge ABSOLUT fan ever since. Their 2013 debut certainly had a heavy metal edge to it. And while there are serious metal influences on ABSOLUT, their sound has always come off to me as firmly rooted in hardcore punk. Their recordings typically sound raw as fuck, and the artwork more or less stays in line with what you’d expect to see on a punk record. Yeah, they definitely lean towards the Scandinavian Jawbreaker side of things when it comes to art, but never some insanely epic metal looking shit. While they kept the cover punk as fuck on this new cassette with an homage to MODERAT LIKVIDATION, it’s hard to say the music easily fits into this aesthetic. Yes, they cover GANG GREEN on the B side of the tape, but holy fucking shit this tape is metal as fuck. Their last proper release in 2019 certainly had a new vibe with double-kicking parts, but it was not like THIS. Anyone that knows me knows that I am truly not a fan of metal, but man I can’t get enough of this new ABSOLUT käng munk! It just sounds so extreme. Joel delivers absolute fucking madness on guitar.

When I dissect this release, I really treat the A side as the focus here. I know there are more songs on the B side, but those tracks were just thrown onto the tape for the hell of it, since they were never properly released. The A side also has like ten minutes of blank tape after the music ends, haha, so that really takes attention away from the B side. While I enjoy the B side, I find the master is much better on side A. On the A side, there are three totally new songs recorded last year as a promo for an LP coming later down the line. On the B side, there are two other new songs, two old songs, and a cover that were all recorded April 2022. While some people may not like the mashing up of different sessions on one release, I love when bands do this. It just comes off as so punk and DIY. I really love the packaging on the tape. It is also super punk, in the way that the tape case can barely close cos there are so many folds! While they credited me for the art/layout, I really did not do that much. I just suggested doing a huge double-side jcard that folds out from eight panels. I guess I did the mock-up for each panel, but I didn’t make the actual design. To finish off the release, an absolutely hilarious (and offensive) “homage” to Eric Clapton is featured on the back side. I think tape packaging is typically pretty fucking boring, so spicing this shit up with more folds than one can handle seemed like a good idea (...until it came time to actually folding every single one). I actually released this cassette, so all the folding was done by yours truly.

I bought Victims of a Bombraid and Absolut Country of Sweden from a guy on the internet years ago. I felt bad that he was only selling em due to pressure from his wife and care expenses, but man I was unbelievably excited to cross those two bangers off the list at the same time. To pay him, I sent PayPal over and wrote the record names in the notes. After I sent it over, the payment was flagged and it said it was under review by PayPal. Of course, the guy was nervous cos he had already sent the records, and we were both really confused as to what was going on. I had never experienced this before, but his PayPal account was new, so I assumed that’s all it was. After some time, PayPal asked me to fill out a form explaining what exactly I was purchasing. And then after I got the stuff, they wanted me to confirm all was good before they would let the money clear into the dude’s account. That sucked, especially for the dude. When this was happening, my friend Chris (what up mofo!) explained that he has often has problems with ANTI-CIMEX stuff sold through PayPal. He told me he’s not sure why the stuff is flagged, but to avoid the trouble he changes the title slightly, so it doesn’t straight up say ANTI-CIMEX. I take the time to explain this, cos when I first launched ABSOLUT: Käng Munk 2024, every single order on the BPDT site that contained this cassette was flagged and then denied. That was brutal. I called PayPal and they just explained it was a security issue and it was automatically denied, but the person on the phone could not tell me why exactly. Instantly I remembered buying Absolut Country of Sweden, and the difficulties that came with it. I wondered if that previous issue was with “ABSOLUT” cos of the liquor brand, and not actually “ANTI-CIMEX.” So, I changed the name of the tape and asked Daniel to buy a copy online. Still no luck. At this point, I gave up and decided people would have to wait for SSR and a few other distros to get copies. But, a few days later, PayPal emailed Daniel an explanation and asked him to answer one question to resolve the issue. They asked him to provide a date of birth for Käng Munk. I can’t tell you how funny I think that is. Since I finally understood why PayPal was flagging them, I removed the title from the cassette, and all that followed was business as usual.

My staff pick is stretching away from brief now, but before I go, I want to break down “käng” and “munk” cos I’ve seen a lot of comments and questions, haha. I’ll start with the simple one. Munk is simply a combination of metal and punk, but from my understanding the band must actually be good otherwise it’s not considered munk and probably just butt-metal. To be honest, I first heard this term from CLT of ABSOLUT, so I take this as some up north Canadian slang that doesn’t exist far from there. Now, käng is a lot harder to describe, but it’s actually a word in Swedish. When we toured Europe a few years ago, I learned I was pronouncing käng wrong this entire time. The letter k is not pronounced like we would in English, but the word begins with a “sh” sound. Käng is pronounced shhang, essentially. As I was breaking this down, I suddenly realized the symbol commonly used to represent kängpunk is a fist, but käng actually translates to the word boot. I know of another word “kängnäve” that people have used to describe kängpunk bands, but I did not really understand how it translated. Well, I had to get to the bottom of this, so I asked my good friend Anders to help me understand. I asked him why a fist is used to symbolize kängpunk, when the word käng translates to boot. Instead of paraphrasing his reply, I am going to leave you with quotes. If you’re reading Anders, thank you as always for taking the time to share stuff with me!! And thanks to everyone else for your support, of course.

“Käng is boot so that’s correct and kängnäve is the way your fist goes up in the air when listening to a proper käng band. The way ‘Kängpunk’ came to be was that in the mid 80’s American bands wearing flannel and converse shoes were ‘taking over’ even in Sweden and the old proper leather jacket and army boots punk was not very popular. Jimmy (bass player in 16 Blåsare Utan Hjärna, Horse Laugh etc etc) was not very fond of the transition and wanted bands to wear boots. Boot wearing bands = kängpunk. Simple as that. The term spread and the rest you know…Kängnäve probably got its name from people wearing boots going to gigs and just acting out their frustrations about society and war and bands wearing converse shoes.”

Hiya friends. I hope you are all doing well and had a happy Easter. I miss being a kid and going on Easter Egg hunts. Back in the day, my sister and I would eat our body weight in chocolate eggs and bunnies. Apart from one year when our dog ate all our booty while we were having lunch. He ate everything, wrappers and all and amazingly wasn’t sick. LoL. Good times.

Anyhow, we appreciate you checking in with us again this week. Between all the hot new slabs coming through, new and used, it’s a good time to visit the store in person or do a little online shopping. There aren’t many better ways to spend your dough than on music if you ask me, other than spending it on your loved ones and giving to charity.

A few weeks back, I recommended the soundtrack to the cult teensploitation movie Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, which I hope was a good steer, especially if it was new to you. This week I am going to stay in the soundtrack section if that’s alright. Along with music library records, soundtracks are still one of your best picks for discovery: fresh, cool music and sounds that perhaps you haven’t heard before. I could go on and list numerous reasons soundtracks appeal and why music lovers and record collectors seek them out. Ignore at your loss. Anyway, the other day as I was going through my soundtracks, I stopped to look at the one for Cornbread, Earl And Me. It’s an American film from 1975 that sports music composed and produced by Donald Byrd and performed by jazz-funk group The Blackbyrds. It’s damn funky in places. I hadn’t listened to it in a good while, but had recently just watched the film for the first time and now I feel I like the music even more, which is one of those appeals of soundtracks. As we are amid March Madness and have three local teams in the sweet sixteen (at the time of writing) it seems an appropriate time to pick a basketball related record. I will just add that, although I don’t follow basketball too closely and am an in no way what-so-ever an athlete that plays, I always appreciated the game. Back in my school days, we had a couple of cool gym/sports teachers and one time they took some of us kids to go see The Harlem Globetrotters on a visit to Britain. It was a cool experience and stuck with me. Later, when I came to America, I began following The Lakers, but not too seriously. But I digress…

If you are unfamiliar with the film, I highly recommend you watching it. The story is set in an urban environment like Chicago or a similar city, where a local kid, Cornbread, is a budding basketball player destined for success, fame and fortune. He is played by real life basketball star Jamaal Wilkes who, at the time of filming, was Rookie of the Year in the NBA and playing for the Golden State Warriors. He went on to win a championship with them in 1975, the year the film came out, and a further three with the Lakers in the 80s alongside Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

In the movie, his character is friends with two younger boys, one of whom was played by Laurence Fishburne, making his film debut. It’s quite an impressive debut also. In the film, during a heavy rainstorm, the friends challenge Cornbread to see how quickly he can run home from the corner store they are sheltering in. I don’t want to spoil the plot for you, but a mix up in identity results in Cornbread being shot by the police and the rest of the film deals with the fallout from that in the community and how it affects the lives of the young friends and his family, etc. It’s very emotional stuff and sadly, as we all know, still happening today.

I did like the film and if you have seen and enjoyed similar films such as Claudine and Cooley High, which were released at the same time, then I think you will like it also. Those two films have great soundtracks also, with Curtis Mayfield producing Claudine and Cooley High, sporting a nice selection of Motown classics along with original music from Freddie Perren, who was a Motown staff producer.

Here in the store, whenever we get a Blackbyrds album, or a Donald Byrd record, they don’t stick around long. For good reason, as they are good. In recent weeks, I have been hearing them a lot as I know John Scott likes them and he has been playing them. The soundtrack for Cornbread, Earl and Me came out right in the middle of a great run for the Blackbyrds. That same year, their classic album City Life had been released and would be followed the next year by Unfinished Business and the year after that by Action. I like Action a lot and can recommend any of their 70s albums without hesitation. If a good dose of jazz-funk is what you are looking for, then you’ll find plenty of it on these albums.

The City Life album, which contained the much-sampled hit Rock Creek Park, is probably the best remembered album from the group that was formed in 1973. They were Howard University students inspired by jazz trumpeter and already legendary Donald Byrd, who wanted to take students from the academic world and expose them to the real world of music and life. They took their name from an album Byrd had released previously on Blue Note Records. That album and many of Byrd’s classic 70s records were produced by the Mizell brothers, Larry and Fonce, who were themselves Howard alumni.

Production and composition for Cornbread comes from Donald Byrd himself. The record is a mix of jazz-funk with a couple of ballads and 70s cop crime theme moments like the cut Riot, which RZA sampled for a Ghostface Killah track. Bass player Joe Hall shows his funky chops throughout, and his intro to the song One-Eyed Two Step would have Howard from The Mighty Boosh in jazz-funk bass heaven. If you know what I mean.

Overall, a fun listen and a good album, one that possibly gets overlooked when folks talk about the group’s music. Should be easy to find a copy, although we haven’t had one come through here recently, despite getting most of the other albums by the group regularly.

Alright, back to it. Thanks for reading. If you get the chance, watch the film if you haven’t already, and definitely get the Blackbyrds music in your life.

Cheers -Dom

Naked Raygun: All Rise LP (Homestead, 198?)

A few weeks ago, Jeff wrote about Government Issue’s self-titled album for his staff pick, and this week I have a similar record for you: Naked Raygun’s All Rise. Maybe there’s something seasonally appropriate about this style of music in (a little) springtime (in the back of my mind). I noticed in the archive that Jeff actually wrote about GI’s self-titled record once before, and right around the same time of year. So maybe it’s not surprising that today, when I was taking a walk in the sunny springtime weather, I was seized with the urge to listen to All Rise. It just felt right.

I’ve been a big Naked Raygun fan for a long time. One of my favorite things about Naked Raygun is the guitar-playing. I was never much of a guitarist, but when I used to play, my ideal guitar sound would have been some amalgamation of Stubbs/Hammond, Shelley/Diggle, and John Haggerty from Naked Raygun. While Haggerty rarely plays anything complicated, his tone just roars, whether he’s laying down a thick bed of chords or cranking out a hot lick like on “Backlash Jack” or “Those Who Move.” I swear, when a guitarist like Haggerty hits a big chord just right, I get a synaesthetic feeling of pleasure in the back of my throat. I just love it.

Another thing that attracts me to Naked Raygun—and this is true of a lot of my favorite bands—is that they have a big catalog and things to appreciate on every record. There’s no clear consensus pick for the best Naked Raygun album, but I think All Rise might be my favorite. It’s their second album (third if you count Basement Screams, which I do), and at this point they’ve largely left behind the artier sound of their early era and embraced the Buzzcocks-esque punk-pop that dominates their later albums. There are still traces, though, like “Peacemaker,” a Big Black-esque song with a menacing, industrial sound. Actually, Naked Raygun vocalist Jeff Pezzati played bass in Big Black, and former Naked Raygun guitarist Santiago Durango was also in Big Black. Durango’s song “New Dreams” serves as All Rise’s memorable closer even though he doesn’t actually play on the album, his composition bolstered by John Haggerty’s distinctive guitar style.

While All Rise is probably my favorite Naked Raygun album, it doesn’t have my favorite Naked Raygun song, which has to be the non-album single “Vanilla Blue.” I remember reading an anecdote on the old Dag Nasty message board around 20 years ago—I eavesdropped on many conversations among old DC scenesters there—about Government Issue playing with Naked Raygun in Chicago, and Naked Raygun giving GI a tape of the then-unreleased track “Vanilla Blue,” which GI said they played constantly as they drove around the country. I can’t remember who relayed the anecdote—it might have been John Stabb, Tom Lyle, or someone else—but I remember them saying that GI and Raygun felt a close kinship around that time, the bands having arrived at a similar sound despite evolving from very different earlier material.

Springtime… big guitars, big melodies, a hint of nostalgic longing (remembering things perhaps as they should have been)… let’s roll down the windows and sing along at the top of our lungs.