Mike Watt: Hyphenated-Man

Sometimes it takes a 15-Century masterpiece to bring it all back. In this case it was Heironymus Bosch's Final Judgement which Mike Watt dove into to create his third opera, Hyphenated-Man.

If there's one thing I took away from Tim Irwin's We Jam Econo is that the Minutemen believed that anything can influence music, and vise versa. As each song serves as an allegory or contemplation to a part of Bosch's greater work. But that's not all. It wasn't until the 2005 documentary that Watt began to revisit the music of his first love, The Minutemen. Written on D. Boon's old Telecaster Watt's latest effort sounds like a man returning home, not that he was ever lost.

You won't be able to escape the Minutemen comparisons. It's almost half the point of this album. What makes this not a total trip down memory lane is Watt's presence on the album. Watt is able to conjure and conduct a spectrum of sounds that varies from curious and playful to gruff and tense in a way that is unmistakably Watt. It only feels a little less brutish than D. Boon. Raul Morales and Tom Watson keep up with Watt bringing the energy that the music demands. If you close your eyes for a moment, you'd think your back in 1980s San Pedro.

30 songs broken down into 'econo-sized' bites can at first be a hard pill to swallow, but you got through Double Nickels on the Dime, right? If this does anything it demands your attention from start to finish, as a true album should. This is Watt treading grounds he knows best. A path he paved years ago. This time around he's picking up the pieces he may have missed the first time around. Most old rockers trying to revisit their roots won't sound half as good as Watt.

Kimo's to close 12/31/11 RIP

Kimo's is closing its doors December 31, 2011. This is a bitter sweet ordeal. It's been a go-to venue longer than I can remember. While not particularly as notable as Annie's Social Club (or it's many incarnations), Bottom of the Hill or the Elbo Room; it still served its purpose.

"That place was a shit hole!" Matt, a former bandmate recalled from his days in Artificium Sanguis, who in his older age, remembers an entirely different, much filthier Kimo's than the Kimo's I knew for several years.

They way I knew it was the punk bar upstairs and the Chicken-Hawk bar downstair. While waiting for shows I would see countless older gay men and young men walk off together, apparently to make some kind of exchange involving drugs or sex. I could be totally wrong, but that's what I remember being explained to me. Sitting at the bar of one of the Polk Gulch's last strong holds was certain a treat in itself. Watching the mix of old timey gay dudes and young adults trying attend a rock show in the same place was always interesting. While neither crowds tended to interact with each other it was always a funny sight.

I remember being excited to play this venue with my band, Flood. This excitement was shortly lived as I changed my attitude after lifting heavy, heavy gear up their narrow stairs. Once the gear was loaded in, things got much better.

At the time a guy named Chad was booking shows there. He treated every band well. Who can complain about extra drink tickets? I think the first time we played their, with the Ovens, Chad smoked us out big time. No other promoter ever did that.

I got to know Kimo's very well as Flood would accept almost every show Chad offered for a year so two. At one point we felt like the house band. To an extent, it did feel like home sometimes. Having the same guy host the show with virtually the same bands every time.

I think the last time I ever played their was in Church of Flipper; Flood's Flipper cover band. I wore a giant whoopee cushion costumer and drank A LOT of beer. It was probably one of the most remarkable shows I've ever played there. My parents even showed up to watch the debauchery.

Kimo's was a reliable, go-to venue. Maybe it wasn't at the top of many people's list, but it always worked out. Flood had their first record release there; and what turned out to be one of the bar's busiest Monday nights.

Everyone had a great time their, even if they don't admit it. A lot of people probably won't care, or even say 'good riddance'. But just remember, it's one less venue in the City.

MinuteFlag

In attempt to further their agenda of what it meant to be punk SST big guns and cohorts Black Flag and the Minutemen got together and made a baby, kinda. For well read Black Flag fans, it should be no secret that Greg Ginn was a huge fan of the Greatful Dead. It should also be no surprise that the Minutemen were into jazz and other experimental stuff. While most bands on SST pushed the envelope in a scene that slowly became less accepting and more militant (dare I say 'cookie cutter'), the Flag and Pedro's finest seem to take it as far as they could. The MinuteFlag EP can be describe as a celebration of the two bands' love for the extreme, the obscure, and their friendship. I couldn't imagine any other bands of the time collaborating like this. I think this musical outcry is what Black Flag was thinking all along the Minutemen were probably going to do anyway (think of it almost as a precursor to Watt and Kira's Dos). If any album from SSt's 80s catalogue could turn punks on their heads (as they often would) this is a tour de force.

Fetch The Water

Orchid: Dance Tonight! Revolution Tomorrow!

Orchid is one of those bands that I would have never discovered in my youth if it weren't for mix tapes. My friend Miles used to make me mix tapes of screamo and 90s hardcore bands. This guy turned me on to bands like Converge, Jeromes Dream, Seven Angels Seven Plagues and Creation is Crucifixion. It felt like once a month I'd be asking for more music. I'm pretty sure at one point I had his entire collection of vinyl crammed into an overflowing shoe box full of Maxell and TDK cassettes. Dance Tonight! Revolution Tomorrow was a game changer.

Orchid was considered a pioneer of the 'screamo' sound. Today most people probably associate that term with a bunch of dyed black hair mall goth kids, or something equally obnoxious. Orchid was far from that. They were the real deal. I'd like to think Orchid was some kind of evolution of the raw power that the hardcore bands from the 80s created. They took the energy of bands like Converge and wrapped it in a tornado of fury. It never once sounded like some kid screaming, but a youthful rage that seems unparallel to anything I had heard at that point. Sure, death metal has its guttural vocals and its technically proficient brutality, which still serves a purpose, but there seems to lack a person bond. Orchids sound was seemed more personal. Their music was a direct reflection of what was in their heads. There sound was more wild, not so much driven by skill, but a boiling rage with in. In some sense listening to Orchid provided some kind of existential adolescent. The lyrics always seemed thought provoking as a 16 year old trying to figure it out, while trying to evoke deep thoughts about the world around me.

Here Ya Go