The weather outside Reggie’s Rock Club in Chicago was mild, but the Ska inside was hot. Hot Stove Jimmy, The Crombies, Run and Punch, and Burn Rebuild put on an all-Chicago bonanza. Hot Stove Jimmy celebrated the 30th Anniversary of its album Salute. The Chicago Ska Revival band was formed in 1994. On this evening, […]
Hot Stove Jimmy celebrated the 30th Anniversary of its album Salute. The Chicago Ska Revival band was formed in 1994. On this evening, the headliners brought sizzling bombast and a cacophony of sounds in the very best way. Three decades plus on, the band, through numerous line-up changes, the band was also able to bring out the fun, with each member displaying their own kind of energy.
Jamming through the songs from Salute, it was obvious the fans in this crowd had long been thirsting for the band’s return.
The Crombies is a beloved Windy City crew that plays regularly around the city, with occasional forays across this continent and others.
Tight as always, the band is a blast to watch, with members spinning, jumping, and getting down onto the rock club’s floor with the mic, inviting fans and the many close friends in the crowd to join in the singing.
Get to one of the band’s next shows stat!
Run and Punch punched through tune after tune. The band’s self-description of “Our songs feel like a house party with your favorite people: loud, loose, and sometimes a little too honest” is spot on. Run and Punch’s joy is infectious, but in this case alone, you don’t want a vaccination against it.
Burn Rebuild blazed through its set list as the kick-off band. They grabbed the crowd from the first note and did not let go. That is not always easy work to do for an opening band. But as with its fellow Chicagoans on the bill, a substantial history assured Burn Rebuild would have no issue builfding the tempo for the evening.
For 30 years Asian Man Records has launched the music careers of many artists spanning across multiple genres. As a DIY label, Asian Man has been the fulcrum of a musical community that calls for nonviolent action (Plea for Peace) as well as introducing a wider audience to nascent groups such as The Lawrence Arms, […]
For 30 years Asian Man Records has launched the music careers of many artists spanning across multiple genres. As a DIY label, Asian Man has been the fulcrum of a musical community that calls for nonviolent action (Plea for Peace) as well as introducing a wider audience to nascent groups such as The Lawrence Arms, Less Than Jake, and Alkaline Trio. Writer and former Asian Man artist Mike Huguenor started working on “Elvis Is Dead, I’m Still Alive: The Story of Asian Man Records (EIDISA)” 4 years ago, and ultimately offers 30 years of stories and lore as told directly by Mike Park, the man behind Asian Man Records, and other noticeable figures from across the globe. What started as a response to passion that was lost through constant touring from his prior band, Skankin’ Pickle, has turned into something much bigger that has directly influenced the lives of many, as would be revealed in this book.
“EIDISA” starts with Mike Park’s early life, from childhood to high school, progressing to his first high school band Yellow Jam. It becomes apparent pretty early on, most noticeably with the actual name of the record label, that this narrative addresses racial issues that effected Park’s early life as a Korean American, which would influence a ton of his own writing and projects. It’s important to include a lot of Mike Park’s personal narratives when discussing the Asian Man Records and I think Huguenor does very well in dedicating the first quarter of this book to Park, Skankin Pickle and Dill Records, and to the start of Asian Man before getting into many of the bands that signed with the label.
The biggest staples of Asian Man have an entire chapter dedicated to themselves, from The Plea for Peace Tour, Misfits of Ska, even Asian Man Japan. Slow Gherkin, Bomb the Music Industry!, and Park’s other projects The Chinkees and The Bruce Lee Band are just a few of the other Asian Man collectives that have a few incredible stories packed into their own chapters.
While Asian Man Records was first linked closely with ska bands in the midst of the third wave era, its transition to indie rock and emo talent also sheds a light on the tediousness of it in terms of sales, however gaining a cult following years later with bands like Korea Girl and AJJ.
“EIDISA” also looks upon the controversial era of The Queers’ time at Asian Man. While the incident around a certain tweet didn’t exactly tarnish the label, but forcibly dragged into unnecessary drama, this chapter was meant to make the reader consider the amount of power social media now has over the music industry, more specifically how much power a person can have whilst hiding behind their screen.
On top of being a touring guitarist, Mike Huguenor shows he is also an incredible raconteur, that sets up stories well enough to make you keep reading. While I found information to be sometimes repetitive, it doesn’t distract from the witty and sometimes emotional passages sprinkled throughout “EIDISA”. Is this the greatest book ever about Asian Man? Seeing as it’s the only, I would say yes.
I was lucky to meet with both author Mike Huguenor and Jeff Rosenstock upon the book’s release, and it’s apparent on the amount of research and interviews that Mike had gone through for this book. I found the advice he gave me as a writer is quite the same as how he describes bands from Asian Man getting their start into popularity. Overall, this is a super entertaining read packed with information that will hopefully inspire its readers to get out and do something for their community.
This year we celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of The Ramones‘ self-titled debut released in 1976. While the history and trajectory of the band may be similar to the rock ‘n’ roll bands they were rebelling against, the end result was an enduring and undying legacy that still holds strong today. As part of the Omnibus […]
This year we celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of The Ramones‘ self-titled debut released in 1976. While the history and trajectory of the band may be similar to the rock ‘n’ roll bands they were rebelling against, the end result was an enduring and undying legacy that still holds strong today. As part of the Omnibus Press Remasters series, Hey! Ho! Let’s Go! The Story of the Ramones chronicles the band and their storied career. Author Everett True’s comprehensive and meticulous research pays off in what should be considered the most complete telling of the band’s origin.
True’s account of the original four, Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Tommy, doesn’t spend too much time on their lives as kids, but we do get some info on the members’ pre-Ramones lives. It’s interesting to hear about the band’s early formation and hilarious stories about the band and their beginnings, things like Joey falling over multiple times during their first show and Dee Dee stepping on and snapping the neck of his bass right before they had to go on.
The chapters move fast despite the amount of info given and how slow time moves in the narrative of the Ramones story. Everett True’s writing feels relaxed despite this. He lets us bask in what it was like to be a Ramone even when the relationships deteriorate and the band splinters off. While we all know where the band’s story ends as a group and individually, it’s still a tough ending. We lost the three core Ramones within less than five years of each other and way too early in this lifetime.
There’s a really cool, but short, chapter that has blurbs of the definition of punk, something that usually ends up horribly, but these are given by architects of the genre. People who know what they are talking about because they were there speak about how much that definition is wrapped in the Ramones’ legacy. Quotes from Rodney Bingenheimer, John Holstrom, and some of the Ramones themselves give meaning and feeling to a genre that prides itself on acknowledging neither. It’s one of the charming aspects of this book, of which there are many.
If you’re looking for a warts and all book about the Ramones, this is it. Separating punk rock fact from fiction: the music, the infighting, and lineup changes are all there. The book jumps between the recount of the band’s history from people in the scene to Everett True’s experiences and thoughts with the band’s music, but also addresses every rumor and myth about the band including Dee Dee’s time as a prostitute and the disintegration of Johnny and Joey’s relationship by giving perspective from the people directly involved.
True’s meticulous work and research do not go unnoticed. This is hands down the best book about the Ramones’ story. Conveniently re-released as an Omnibus Press Remaster for the 50th Anniversary of the Ramones’ first album, Hey! Ho! Let’s Go! The Story of the Ramones is the book every Ramones fan should read. Not only does it help give a picture of the band’s musical career, it tells the story of the band that defined a genre. Pick up Hey! Ho! Let’s Go! The Story of the Ramones from Omnibus Press.
Not a lot of kids are into ska punk, but some are: those kids are saving the future of ska. Coming home from work, I stumbled upon a $1 house show that was preparing for their final band of the night. While the immense crowd of teens and young college kids had already listened to […]
Not a lot of kids are into ska punk, but some are: those kids are saving the future of ska.
Coming home from work, I stumbled upon a $1 house show that was preparing for their final band of the night. While the immense crowd of teens and young college kids had already listened to indie and pop punk collectives, it was time for ska punk to close out the show. The band to send people home happy: Skidwizard, an Inland Empire band that has gained much respect in a quick amount of time in the ska scene.
Almost immediately you could feel the energy as the horn line consisting of a trumpet and trombone player blasted their first note, followed immediately by groovy bass lines, clean guitar upstrokes, and hard-hitting rhythms from the drums. I was impressed not only by the band’s instrumental talents, but by the response of the crowd as well.
Palm trees were shaking and people were skanking as the band played through some of the most original ska punk sounds I’ve heard this year. They played songs off their recent debut EP “Lyin’ Hawaiian”, as well as covers from bands like Skankin’ Pickle and Reel Big Fish.
Rising from the ashes of former band The London System, Skidwizard amps up the punk in their already mastered ska sound. Heavily inspired by bands like Skankin Pickle, Rx Bandits, and The Hippos, the group shares that same moving horn lines and witty lyricism.
As the band turns 1 year old his month, they have managed to blow up at such a fast pace since their start. The younger generation is quick to understand how to market themselves on social media, as Skidwizard is already becoming well established not just in the Inland Empire, but in SoCal as a whole.
The reality is that there’s a ska punk drought. It may not look like it, but when you look at the age range of these bands, most people are in their 30s or older. Only a handful of bands like Chudson, Inpost, and 2-Step Chicks are still fueled by frenetic, youthful energy. Skidwizard joins the small collection of teens/college kids saving the ska punk scene and has the potential to become future underground legends.
Not only does Skidwizard have a new album in the works, but they will be going on their first summer tour as well. If you live in Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, or Colorado, get ready for some IE ska punk coming your way!
Twenty years ago, Slam Dunk was a single-stage festival in Leeds, headlined by Fall Out Boy. In the years since, it has grown into one of the UK’s biggest celebrations of alternative music, welcoming everyone from pop-punk icons and emo veterans to the next generation of hardcore, metalcore, ska bands, and punk bands. A lot […]
Twenty years ago, Slam Dunk was a single-stage festival in Leeds, headlined by Fall Out Boy. In the years since, it has grown into one of the UK’s biggest celebrations of alternative music, welcoming everyone from pop-punk icons and emo veterans to the next generation of hardcore, metalcore, ska bands, and punk bands.
A lot has changed since Slam Dunk’s first edition in 2006, at Leeds Millennium Square. The stages are bigger, the crowds are bigger, and the lineup now stretches across almost every corner of alternative music. What hasn’t changed is the feeling of arriving and immediately seeing thousands of people who clearly wouldn’t want to spend their Saturday anywhere else.
The first thing I noticed after arriving by train wasn’t the stages or which band was about to play. It was the people. Friends reuniting with one another outside the gates, groups comparing schedules and talking about where they should meet up since our telephone signal was lost upon entrance, I hope they fix that next year, and despite the heatwave and the sizes of the different crowd sizes, the atmosphere felt warm, welcoming, and excited. For all the growth Slam Dunk has experienced over the past two decades, it still feels like a festival built by and for the community that helped it survive.
OF COURSE, some parts of the experience were impossible to ignore. The heat was relentless. Bar queues became a running joke throughout the day. Every patch of shade was occupied by somebody trying to recover before the next set, by chugging water like there was no tomorrow. And as someone bouncing between stages, interviews, and the press area, I quickly learned that seeing everything on my schedule was never going to happen. Somewhere between standing in a queue for a drink and racing across the site, I even managed to miss half of State Champs’ set. Sorry!!!
Twenty years on, Slam Dunk still feels like a festival where everyone is trying to do the same thing: fit an entire weekend’s worth of bands into a single day.
Angel Du$t – Main Stage East Left
While there were a few anniversary shows, the focus wasn’t quite there. Angel Du$t felt like a reminder that the festival wasn’t built on nostalgia. But on new innovations.
By the time the band took the stage, the crowd was more than ready to jump into a pit. The heat wasn’t exactly merciful, but the crowd worked with what they got as the band went through their set.
But what made Angel Du$t interesting is that they don’t just fit into the hardcore genre. There’s so much more to them, soundwise, something weirder and more fun happening underneath it all. And everyone was there for it!
Boston Manor – Monster Energy Stage Right
Boston Manor could have easily spent their Slam Dunk set leaning into nostalgia. A lot of bands were doing that, and rightfully so. But instead, the Blackpool band used their time on stage to showcase just how they’ve evolved over the last decade.
Boston Manor’s set felt a bit like a tour through their entire career. One minute they were playing newer songs like “Floodlights on the Square” and “Passenger,” the next they were throwing the crowd back to tracks like “Laika” and “Stop Trying, Be Nothing.”
That balance paid off throughout the set. Older songs sparked memories that flooded back, while the newer material drew some of the loudest sing-alongs. Rather than looking backward, the band used their set as a celebration of everything they have become since they first started appearing.
Dashboard Confessional – Main Stage West
I only caught part of Dashboard Confessional’s set. Like most people at Slam Dunk, I was already checking the time and trying to figure out how long I could stay before needing to head somewhere else.
Even so, it didn’t take long to understand why so many people had made them a priority. Within minutes, the crowd had largely taken over singing duties. Chris Carrabba would start a line, and thousands of people would happily finish it for him.
Sadly, like many people at Slam Dunk, I found myself watching one band while keeping an eye on the time for the next, with The Menzingers waiting across the site. I eventually had to make a run for it before Dashboard’s set was over.
But from what I did catch, it was enough to understand why so many people had made them a priority. Even after all these years, the songs still connect in a way that few bands can catch.
Twenty minutes before The Menzingers took the stage, I was sitting with Greg Barnett and Eric Keen talking about growing older.
Not in the dramatic, rock-and-roll sense. Just life. Families. Kids. The strange reality of somehow being twenty years into a career that started because a group of friends wanted to play punk rock.
Twenty years in, The Menzingers still don’t seem entirely convinced they’re supposed to be here. When I asked what had kept the band together for so long, Greg’s first response was a joke about fame and fortune before both he and Eric settled on a much simpler answer: people kept showing up.
An hour later, standing in front of the stage, it was hard not to see exactly what they meant.
Opening with “I Don’t Wanna Be an Asshole Anymore,” The Menzingers were greeted by a crowd that barely needed warming up. If anything, it felt like people had been waiting for this set all day. Everywhere you looked, someone was singing. Not just the big choruses either. Entire verses disappeared beneath the audience as songs like “The Obituaries,” “Good Things,” and “After the Party” rolled through the set.
Earlier in the day, Barnett had told me that one of the best parts about The Menzingers is that their fans have grown alongside the band. “They’re seeing their stories in the same way that we are existing,” he explained.
Looking around the crowd, it felt less like an interview answer and more like a statement of fact.
The people who first connected with these songs aren’t the same people anymore. Some have children. Some have gone through divorces. Some have moved countries, changed careers, lost people, found people, and somehow ended up here on a Saturday afternoon in Hatfield singing along to a band that has soundtracked a large part of their lives.
That’s what made The Menzingers’ set feel different from many of the anniversary celebrations happening elsewhere across the festival. There was no need to revisit a classic album or recreate a specific moment in time. The connection was already there.
That same mindset has shaped the band’s upcoming album. Rather than looking backward, Barnett described the new record as an attempt to document the present. “It felt like we don’t really need to be looking towards the future or the past,” he told me. “It just feels like we need to kind of document what’s happening right now.”
In many ways, that idea also explains why The Menzingers continue to matter.
While plenty of bands spend years chasing the version of themselves that people fell in love with, The Menzingers have allowed themselves to grow up in public. The songs have changed. The people listening have changed. Yet somehow the connection remains exactly the same.
Earlier in the day, Greg had told me that The Menzingers’ fans had grown alongside the band. By the time “After the Party” rolled around, I didn’t really need the explanation anymore.
Taking Back Sunday – Main Stage West
Taking Back Sunday should have been one of the highlights of the day.
Celebrating twenty years of Louder Now at Slam Dunk feels like a perfect match on paper. Few records are as closely tied to the festival’s audience, and judging by the number of people packed in front of the stage, plenty of fans agreed.
Unfortunately, the sound had other ideas.
Whether it was where I was standing, issues with the mix, or just Adam himself, I spent more time trying to figure out what was happening than actually enjoying the set. Vocals regularly felt buried, and instead of being pulled into the performance, I found myself growing increasingly distracted by the technical side.
Maybe that’s unfair. Maybe somebody standing fifty meters away had an entirely different experience. That’s the reality of festival sets.
What I can say is that after spending most of the day running between stages, sitting through interviews, and standing in queues, Taking Back Sunday became one of the few bands I chose to walk away from.
Judging by the crowd that stayed behind, plenty of people were still having a great time. I just wasn’t one of them.
Slam Dunk’s twentieth anniversary wasn’t the only anniversary I was celebrating that day.
Slam Dunk’s twentieth anniversary happened to coincide with my twentieth as a Motion City Soundtrack fan.
I wish I could tell you I handled that fact normally.
Earlier in the day, I had been standing with Jesse Johnson and Tony Thaxton. A few hours later, I was standing in a crowd watching Motion City Soundtrack tear through a setlist that felt suspiciously designed to target my teenage years.
Fortunately, they made it very easy to remember why.
From the opening notes of “Some Wear a Dark Heart,” the crowd was locked in. What followed felt less like a festival set and more like a greatest hits collection for everyone who had ever found comfort in Motion City Soundtrack’s particular brand of anxiety, self-deprecation, and perfectly written hooks.
“Capital H,” “L.G. FUAD,” “My Favorite Accident,” and “Her Words Destroyed My Planet” arrived one after another, and judging by the reaction around me, I wasn’t the only person having a moment.
What I noticed most wasn’t even the songs. It was the people. Everywhere I looked, somebody was dancing, screaming lyrics at their friends, or throwing an arm around the person next to them. For forty-five minutes, it felt like everyone had collectively decided to stop worrying about being cool.
At the center of it all was Justin Pierre, who somehow remains one of the most relatable frontmen in alternative music. Twenty years on, he still performs with the same nervous energy and sincerity that made so many people connect with these songs in the first place. Nothing about it felt forced. Nothing felt like a band trying to recreate a moment from the past.
That’s what surprised me most.
For a set built around songs that have been with many of us for decades, Motion City Soundtrack never felt stuck there. “Attractive Today,” “Everything Is Alright,” and “The Future Freaks Me Out” got some of the biggest reactions of the afternoon, but they didn’t feel like museum pieces being wheeled out for applause. They still felt alive.
Maybe that’s because the songs have aged alongside the people listening to them.
Or maybe it’s because Motion City Soundtrack has always understood something that many bands don’t: growing older doesn’t mean leaving those feelings behind. It just means understanding them a little better.
Whatever the reason, twenty years after discovering Motion City Soundtrack, I finally got to interview them and then watch them play one of the highlights of Slam Dunk.
Some bands remind you of where you’ve been. Good Charlotte reminds me of where I wanted to go.
Growing up, I always liked how open the Madden brothers were about their background. They never pretended they’d had an easy ride. As another poverty kid, that meant something. Maybe that’s why Good Charlotte always felt a little more personal than some of the other bands I grew up listening to.
Their first UK appearance since 2019 was always going to be one of the biggest moments of the weekend, and the crowd in front of the stage reflected that long before the band even appeared. People weren’t casually wandering over to see what was happening. They were already there, waiting.
And once the set started, they didn’t stop moving.
What I noticed most wasn’t necessarily the songs. It was the people. Friends with their arms around each other. Grown adults screaming lyrics they probably first heard as teenagers. People are climbing onto shoulders to get a better view. For an hour, it felt like everyone in front of that stage had somewhere else they’d rather be than adulthood.
Maybe that’s the real reason Good Charlotte still works.
The songs came from a very specific place, but they never stayed there. Twenty years later, people continue finding pieces of themselves in them. Some came because they grew up with the band. Others came later because they discovered them. Standing in that crowd, the difference didn’t really matter.
For a band that once sang about wanting more from life, it was hard not to smile watching thousands of people sing those songs back at them all these years later.
And that was how Slam Dunk 2026 ended. Did I get to see all the bands I wanted to? NO. But does that give me an excuse to do two days next year?
Daniel O’ Day and other members of punk band River City Rebels return with a new collective project delving into one of the most relevant music genres of now: ska. A completely different sound than the glam punk style of R.C.R., Steppin Razor Blades take a hold of the elements of 2-Tone, or New Tone […]
Daniel O’ Day and other members of punk band River City Rebels return with a new collective project delving into one of the most relevant music genres of now: ska. A completely different sound than the glam punk style of R.C.R., Steppin Razor Blades take a hold of the elements of 2-Tone, or New Tone as it’s being called in 21st-century America, and take it to the dancefloor and leave it there.
Their debut album Stay Sharp is a 10-song collection that commands you to move for every tune. With strong keyboard chords, a reliable saxophone, and powerful drum fills, Stay Sharp is musically pleasant to the ear, near impossible to not dance around to, and has politically conscious lyrics that appropriately fits its 2-tone grooves.
Standout tracks for me include “Friend to a Memory”, “Ska Boy//Ska Girl”, “True Drug Lords” and “Coming of Age”.
While Ska in itself is a hard genre to master, 2-Tone is a different beast; and Steppin Razor Blades are quick to tame it. This is a great example of how to blend ska and punk to near perfection. I can’t recommend this album enough to punks of all ages.
Stay Sharp by Steppin Razor Blades is available now on Bandcamp.
For decades Canada’s premier Scotch punk pioneers The Real McKenzies have brought their brand of Celtic inspired rowdy rock ’n’ roll to the world. The whiskey soaked wit and wisdom of singer Paul McKenzie has been served with tongue planted firmly in cheek since 1992. Now, with the release of their 13th studio album, and […]
For decades Canada’s premier Scotch punk pioneers The Real McKenzies have brought their brand of Celtic inspired rowdy rock ’n’ roll to the world. The whiskey soaked wit and wisdom of singer Paul McKenzie has been served with tongue planted firmly in cheek since 1992. Now, with the release of their 13th studio album, and first since the sale of their longtime home Fat Wreck Chords, the McKenzies are back and as irreverent as ever.
Paul McKenzie Sings On Yer Bike is a blistering collection of 13 brand new tracks that will keep your toe tapping and head banging for the duration of its 31 minute runtime. The production on this thing is impeccable. Each instrument punches through with clarity and perfect balance. The thumping bass, pummeling drums and razor-sharp guitars blaze through with ease and precision as Paul tells tales of triumph and tragedy in his unmistakable grizzled croon.
Musicianship aside, what really sets the McKenzie’s apart from many of their peers is their aversion to taking anything too seriously. Mixed in with the traditional Scottish tunes, sea faring punk shanties, and a trilogy of tunes centered around the cannibalistic Sawney Bean clan of highland legend are bits of silliness and satire that strike at the heart of this punk rock institution. Where else will you get songs extolling the virtues of reading (“Read A Book”), the epicurean supremacy of tinned fish (“I Wanna Eat Sardines With Yer Mother”), loving odes to black sheep (“Fiona”), and the woes of age inducing epidermal discoloration (“Liver Spot”)?
Along with the expansive lyrical palate, there is plenty of variation in the instrumentation as well. Aside from the standard rock configuration, you’ll find bagpipes, saxophones, steel guitars and all sorts of ear candy to tickle your aural pleasure centers. For a band more than three decades into their career, The Real McKenzies have proven once again that they are just as vital, energetic and entertaining as ever. Paul McKenzie Sings On Yer Bike is out now via Stomp Records, and I highly recommend picking up a copy immediately!
Despite featuring some classic Descendents songs, their 1986 album, Enjoy!, is not most fans’ favorite album. Their third release, following seminal classics like Milo Goes to College and I Don’t Wanna Grow Up, sees the band at their most experimental. While that may have to do with fewer lineup changes and more with the band’s […]
Despite featuring some classic Descendents songs, their 1986 album, Enjoy!, is not most fans’ favorite album. Their third release, following seminal classics like Milo Goes to College and I Don’t Wanna Grow Up, sees the band at their most experimental. While that may have to do with fewer lineup changes and more with the band’s growing interest in New Wave, the finished product resulted in the most divisive work the band put out in its decades-long career.
Regardless of the highlights and perceived sins some fans feel this record has, Enjoy! is this weird little record in the middle of a nearly perfect run of a band’s discography. Bill Stevenson was kind enough to talk about ALL things Enjoy!, musical influences, and an unexpected way to reunite members of Black Flag.
(Edited for clarity)
Hey, Bill, how are you doing?
Doing well. It’s so funny. Every time I use Zoom, I think I’m not doing it right or something. I’m gonna have to be dragged kicking and screaming into the modern age.
I got you. Before I started doing this, I had no clue how to use any of this. I left it to the Jetsons.
My son is kind of my Jetson. Like if I have a technical thing, he’ll get me hooked up.
My wife does that for me.
What medium is this for: print, audio, or visual?
Print.
Okay, in that case. (Picks nose and grins big.) Have we interviewed before?
Yeah, we interviewed back in August when you guys re-released Milo Goes to College.
Oh, okay, because you look super familiar to me.
I write these anniversary articles about records, and they’re not necessarily the popular ones. I always felt like Enjoy! kind of gets the short end of the stick when it comes to Descendents records.
Oh, does it?
When I got into you guys, I listened to Liveage first.So, all of the songs feel like Descendents to me. There was no difference between Milo Goes to College and Enjoy! and all because the songs are all mixed in between each other.
Oh yeah, I guess. It’s hard for me to comment on it. It’s hard to critique your own thing. I will say that Enjoy! is very much us kind of under the influence of a lot of the first wave of New Wave, talking like Oingo Boingo, Billy Idol’s solo stuff, maybe a little Devo in there.
I don’t know what it was exactly. The drums are loud, and the guitars are not very loud. I like some things about it. I think it’s pretty cool. Like it has its moments. I kind of feel that way about most records. I think you’re lucky if you like four songs on an album. Is that fair to say? Like in your record collection, how many albums do you like more than half of the record?
A lot of the older punk ones I do, but that’s probably being young and just like getting into everything and just, you know, being a sponge. You know what I mean?
Yeah, I guess that’s true. You kind of listened to the whole album in order to get to know the artists, you know, to get to know them. I know the radio song, but what are they really like? Possibly one of my favorite albums of all time: Black Sabbath, Paranoid. I only like four songs. I’m trying to think, what’s an album where you like every song on it? Not when you were young, but right now.
Holdovers from when I was a kid, or like recently?
No, anything. I don’t care if it’s Kesha. I don’t give a shit.
Pet Sounds. I got really into Pet Sounds when I was in my mid-twenties for a lot of different reasons. I know it’s one of those records that everybody says that to… It just hit me at the right time.
That’s a tall order. I mean, I respect the hell out of Pet Sounds, but I don’t listen to it top to bottom so much. I love the Beach Boys. They were a big part of my life at two different times. One time, when I was eleven in Hermosa Beach, the same beach they went to. It was like I could relate to everything they’re saying because that’s what I did today.
When I got older, what really did it for me was maybe fifteen years ago, I got a hold of some a cappella vocals of Beach Boys songs and it blew my brains out. It ripped my brain right out of my skull because I was just like, “Oh my God, I had no idea that was all happening in there.” Then I realized the Beach Boys weren’t just about girls, cars, and fun. The Beach Boys had one of America’s true musical geniuses behind the wheel.
I had the great fortune about eight years ago to see it. I got six free tickets. I don’t remember; somebody just handed them to me. It was Brian Wilson doing Pet Sounds, and I got to see this live. There are all these piece-of-crap versions of the Beach Boys touring around. I’m like, I’ve got to see this. It’s in a really nice theater, and I go in there. He’s got about nine people up there; he’s got a person on every post.
He’s got a Mike Love guy. He’s got a Brian Wilson guy because he’s too old to hit that falsetto anymore. He’s got everybody up there to make everything how it always was, including all those Wrecking Crew sort of people. He does like fifteen of the Beach Boys’ biggest hits: you know, “I Get Around,” “Surfin’ Safari,” and “Catch a Wave.”
That’s a lot of music.
And it all sounds fantastic. It’s so funny you called up to talk about Enjoy! We covered “Wendy” cause when I was a little kid it was my favorite. I don’t know what my deal is. I’ve always been a sucker for those kind of “poor beaten down guy that was treated bad by a woman” songs. I mean I was twelve. No woman ever talked to me. It took both Descendents and Black Flag getting popular before any girl would ever talk to me. It’s kind of weird; when I was really young, like six, my favorite song, still one of my all-time favorite songs, was called “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town.”
ALL covered that song, right?
We did, but not very well. It’s such a sad song. Even when I was 6 years old, I was like, “I love how sad this is making me feel,” and I think that those things had an influence on me later because, like, “Clean Sheets” or, you know, that’s just jealousy. You know, all these girls I wanted to hang out with, they were out hanging out with different guys than me. I don’t really write from that perspective anymore but I sure do remember it. Man, that song is so sad.
What was the status of the band between I Don’t Wanna Grow Up and Enjoy!?
We made I Don’t Wanna Grow Up kind of fresh on the heels of me leaving Black Flag cause everybody had songs. Tony (Lombardo) and Ray (Cooper) and my friend Greg Cameron had been playing. They were calling themselves the Ascendants and they had worked up quite a few of Tony’s new songs. I had four or five and Milo had four or five. So, everybody had songs and we recorded it. Then we toured on it. Enjoy! came pretty closely after. Like what? A year and a half.
So there was a kind of new lineup because Ray was kind of like a bridge from the old lineup to the new lineup. We did shows with Ray where he was the lead vocalist and shows as a five-piece. It was Frank (Navetta) and Ray on guitar and Milo singing. Ray was in pretty early. When Tony couldn’t tour, we got Doug (Carrion). Doug went to our high school, though. He was like part of the family already. He was in my classes. It was Doug, Ray, and I, and that was just a really different band than, say, Tony, Frank, and I. It’s certainly also a really different band than Karl, Stephen, and I. It’s weird. I kind of had to rebuild the band twice. We were listening to The Psychedelic Furs, Oingo Boingo, and XTC. Everything had kind of a sharp, linear, kind of anal retentive, sort of sound to it.
Were there any studio limitations or quirks that ended up shaping the sound of the record?
I mean, Richard probably did, the engineer. He didn’t come from punk rock. He’s so funny. We’d be collecting farts with a boombox. We had a cassette called “Farts,” and whenever somebody had a good one, we’d take out whatever was in there, put in the fart cassette, and record it. Richard came from that R&B revival that was in the 80s, like Janet Jackson or George Michael. He came from that scene. He would call us damaged white people. I mean, it’s true. We all have punk rock damage, and that’s why I love all of us.
He was looking at it from outside of it a little bit, so it was an interesting thing. He’d have real-world ideas about how things would sound or how things would be played, that kind of thing. So, I think he had a decent amount of influence even though he wasn’t there for any of the pre-production. When you’re an engineer and you’re recording a band, it’s like, if I have an idea, I share it with the band. The engineer always has a big role, I think.
What was your approach to arranging songs? How did it evolve? I mean, outside of what you said about listening to more new wave stuff, how do you feel you were applying that differently?
It’s hard to quantify. I’m not sure. It’s so funny. Like, I’m 62. It’s all been one kind of real big fluency. There weren’t any like, “Okay, on this album, we’re gonna go this way.” It’s just whatever our life was. We were always sleeping on the floor of our practice rooms. So, you wake up, your guys are just there next to you, and whatever’s in the boombox. When you’re living like that, that shit’s gonna end up on the records, the influences of it. It’s really abstract. It’s not easy to put your finger on it.
Everybody was bringing songs, and it’s always been that way. Every lineup, everybody’s always like, like the first album that Karl and Stephen played on, the blue record (ALL). The first song on it, Karl wrote. He’s brand new in the band, and he wrote the first song on the record, “Coolidge.” We’ve just always been that way. There are an awful lot of moving parts; it’s hard for me to put my finger on it.
When we spoke last time, you mentioned how much you were into Billy Idol’s solo albums. This time around when I listened to Enjoy! I can hear it.
You hear it most on “Green” and “Sour Grapes.” I mean that we were really trying to get that feeling. Like on “80’s Girl,” you hear the Oingo Boingo influence in there. That makes it also, but also Oingo Boingo, but like with John Doe and Exene singing a couple harmonies. If X isn’t your favorite band, you’re lying, you know?
What about “Days Are Blood?” That always felt like a kind of unused Black Flag song.
No, no, no, real organic, that one. Doug had that bass riff, which kind of sounded like a Joy Division or Sisters of Mercy sort of a situation. I’m trying to think of a couple of those other more moody British bands. They’re not coming to me right now. We just started jamming it. We got home from a really long tour, like ninety days in the winter. In the ice, in the snow, making like, three hundred bucks per show. Just enough for gas. What do you do if the transmission blows up?
When you’re on tour that long and you don’t have anywhere to sleep, plus you can’t sleep because you have to drive, you don’t even have enough money for each guy to get a burger, fries, and a Coke each day. That’s all the money you have. When you go a lot of days without sleeping a full night’s sleep, you lose days. It just becomes one big thing. The days started just going into one another.
So, it was his analysis of what it’s like to be on a really long tour like that, where you’re all using each other’s legs for a pillow or whatever. There’s no room, you know, you’re sardines, and you’re just in there, and you don’t get enough sleep. You start to get loopy and stuff. Does it even matter? So, “Days Are Blood” was really, like, really heartfelt, really organic.
Enjoy! has the reputation of being the most juvenile Descendents record, leaning into the humor. Was it conscious that you guys were just going to put farts on it?
A lot of that, honestly, was Doug. Doug brought that out of us. I mean, I was the huge farter of the band. Milo took over about ten or fifteen years ago. He is the huge farter now. I’m like second place, but for like three decades, I was the main farter. Doug was… I swear to God, Doug’s the funniest person I’ve ever known in my life.
I mean, it was like being with a comedian. He would find humor in every single thing. So, we just became really silly and playful. When Doug joined the band, he, Ray, and I were just living on bunk beds in the back of something smaller than a walk-in closet with no shower and no hot water. We just got loopier, more and more juvenile. Kind of like summer camp where you’re farting or you know, when you put the flashlight on your balls and look at it on the ceiling. They call it monkey brains. We were doing monkey brains, but we’re 25 year old men.
That’s just how we were then. It wasn’t like, “Oh, let’s lean into the fart humor. That’s gonna be the next big thing.” It was just, “We have to do this because this is what we do every day.” Doug had a slang for everything. I really love Doug. I had so much fun with that lineup. It was all fun all the time.
(Points to a picture above his drum set) Do you see up in the corner? The little framed thing? Yeah. Who would I have a framed picture of above my drum set?
Let me see if I can. Punk drummer?
Yes, it is.
It doesn’t look like it’s not a Ramone.
It’s Robo. He’s always been like my hero. I learned my style. I ripped off everything Robo and Mark Laff from Generation X. I love that Idol stuff, but man, that Generation X album is so good. Me and Karl and Stephen do this. Like 40 minutes before we’re gonna go on, we put that Gen X album on. Stephen’s the best air drummer. He can air drum. He’s a really good drummer. He can air drum every single part on that Generation X album. He knows every note, every chord, every bass note, every word to every song on that first Generation X album. He’s the one that really got me into that album.
There’s a band called The Middle Class, and they have a song called “Out of Vogue.”
I’ve heard Middle Class. I’m from Orange County.
“Out of Vogue” predates anybody’s anything that’s that sound. I loved TSOL a lot. At the time, you know, there was in-scene jealousy between the bands and stuff. So, yeah, I couldn’t like them completely, you know, I couldn’t like the Circle Jerks completely, but boy, they’re both great bands..
Tony called him “professional pogoers.” When the professional pogoers showed up, and by that, I mean, the OC, HB punks. They brought a lot of violence to the punk rock scene and made it scary. I quit going into pits because I got beat up by them more than once just trying to watch Fear or something. Just get beat, get pushed on the ground, and get kicked by a bunch of people’s boots. One year prior, it wasn’t like that.
I think at a certain point, the hardcore scene notwithstanding, that’s a little different. All the really aggressive people that just want to go there to beat the shit out of everyone ended up at the Slayer shows. They’re not at the X shows or the Descendents shows.
When’s the last time you listened to Enjoy!? I mean, I know you play songs off of it, but have you listened to these records as a whole as you’ve been re-releasing them?
I listened, but I was studying the masters. I was doing quality control. It’s almost impossible for me to listen to one of our records as if I were a listener. I don’t know. I put it all into making it, and then that’s it. That was my relationship with it, and then you get that big cathartic dump. It’s hard to then be a listener, having been a creator. At least for me, I get too inside of it. I get too personal with it. If I’m biased, like, say, when that song came out and some chick was breaking up with me, I can’t be objective. It’s not possible.
I gotcha.
This is kind of a long story, but the payoff is great. I got an email from Nickelodeon. They were going to do a thing where Patrick was going to have an evil alter ego. When Patrick became his evil alter ego, we were going to play this evil Patrick song. It’s kind of like a punk rock song. We would like you to play drums on it. Fuck. I’ll do anything for SpongeBob. Are you kidding me?
I’ll play drums on it. Yeah, twist my arm. We’ll give you 500 bucks for studio time. I already have it. (Points to the room he’s in) This isn’t even my studio. That’s just my basement. So they send me the prelay. It’s like a click track with a guide guitar, a guide bass, a guide vocal, and a metronome. And so I start recording my drum parts. My son is engineering me. I go, “Hey, give me a little more of the vocal in the monitor, give me a little more click.” After I ran through it about three times, I go, “Hey, Miles, will you do me a favor? Will you solo that vocal up?”
He soloed it up. I’m like, “That’s Henry.” The next day, Dezo (Dez Cadena) calls me and he goes, “I got this weird call from Nickelodeon and they want me to play guitar on this SpongeBob thing. They said you’re playing on it, and I wasn’t sure if it was legit.” I’m like, “Yes, Dezo, it’s legit.” I didn’t tell them what was really happening there. They sent it to Kira (Roessler) too. So, like, this guy reunited Black Flag because everyone was like, “Hell yeah, SpongeBob.”
They didn’t tell anyone about the other people. You know, he thought if anything, that would cause some kind of rift or whatever. So much bullshit around Black Flag. That is, I’d say, how do you get Black Flag back together? You do it for the sake of SpongeBob. That’s how.
Courtesy of Nickelodeon
I watched SpongeBob when my kids were little. I haven’t watched it, but I mean, it exists. It’s just so funny that everyone was like, “Oh, great, SpongeBob, five hundred bucks, hell yeah.” I would have done it for free. I would have paid you to do it.
(Looks at questions) Okay, let me get through some of these. I’m having a great time. I have a few more of these, and I just want to make sure we cover those real quick.
I think me and you did this last time, right? We just talked about whatever bullshit.
Towards the end of it, we did, yeah, because you talked to me about the Beatles.
Holy hell. What songwriters, Christ.
Do you think any of Enjoy! aged well at all?
It’s a really good time capsule. It might be the best time capsule for capturing a two-year period in our lives, not because of any one song, but because what has aged really well is “Get the Time,” which is always one of everyone’s favorite songs. “Sour Grapes” and “Cheer” are always in our set list. For us to play several songs from an album, since we have so many, I think that means there was some quality there.
More to me, Enjoy! captured a certain time in my life better than maybe some of the other records did. Milo Goes to College was almost the culmination of three and a half years’ worth of stuff. That captured my whole adolescence, but Enjoy! captured a time period.
Something I observed, I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose, is that the previous album is called I Don’t Want to Grow Up, and then you immediately start your next album with a song about farting.
It’s definitely not, definitely not. Because, I mean, yeah, like Milo wrote the lyrics to “Enjoy” and Tony wrote the lyrics to “I Don’t Want to Grow Up,” coming from really different places. Because what we didn’t know at the time, Tony never told us how old he was until years after he had left the band.
Oh, really? I thought that was just a thing you guys knew.
He did it with us the way he did it in the real world. Tony looked so young that he literally told everyone he was 10 years younger than he was, and no one ever questioned him. So when Tony wrote “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up,” he was like 40. I’m saying, he really didn’t want to grow up. He was really feeling like, “Fuck, I don’t want to be an old guy. I’m not old, you know, I’m young spirited.” He wrote it from a real different kind of place than like us doing the fart thing.
Is there anything on the record that feels strange or foreign to you now?
Most of the time, my lyrics are super cringe. If I listen back to them, almost always, I don’t mean on any one album. I mean, in general, I just look back very dismissively on my own lyrics as just being like trite high school poetry. I mean, I didn’t quite learn how to really put a lyric together until it was too late. That’s just my little world.
Just something that feels foreign now, like strange. Like it’s not that you just don’t like it.
“”80s Girl.” I try never to write anything that will be dated, you know? And that’s dated as fuck. That was only a thing in 1985; Making fun of all these kind of the fucking throngs of Molly Ringwald wannabes and all this sort of thing.
Enjoy! came out in 1986. Everything Sucks came out in 1996. Hypercaffium Spazzinate came out in 2016. Almost every decade with a year ending in a six, Descendents come out with a record. Is that just a coincidence, or do you feel something aligns around that time?
Oh, where we were making a record on what seemed like a schedule?
Not like a schedule.
Oh, weird. Oh, and we’re going to do that again now, right?
Is the new record gonna come out this year?
I mean, we have a lot of stuff recorded, but maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll break the spell, I think, in 2027. I keep pushing it back. I’m too hypercritical of songs in general, and my songs in particular. I’m too hypercritical of myself. Just three nights ago, I re-watched the movie De-Lovely, which is the Cole Porter movie.
Kevin Kline, right?
Oh God, and Ashley Judd. I’ve watched that movie twenty times, probably. Every time I watch it, I cry more and more. It’s been almost 20 years, I think, since I watched it the first time. I saw it in the theater, but now I think I’m crying for a different reason. I’m disappointed that I’ve never been able to write a lyric or a chord progression where, if Cole were alive, he would be like, “Yeah, Bill, you did a really good job with that. That’s a really clever lyric. That’s a great chord progression.” Just something that Cole would be proud of. I’ve never been able to do it.
I consider that probably my biggest failure as, I’m not going to say artist. I’m not a fucking artist and I’m just a dude. There were no artists, musicians, or geniuses in the Stevenson heritage. I’m blue collar. I just work. As soon as I got exposed to Cole Porter, I was like, “I’m going to write songs that are that good.” It’s not enough to want to do it. You have to be special. Yeah, I thought I could just try my best and work hard at it, but you actually have to be one in a million, and I’m not.
Tons of people love your band, dude. I went to Scott and Chad this weekend at one of those shows-
How was it?
Oh, dude, I was at the Long Beach one. It was at a coffee shop, and it was fantastic. It was the smallest venue, but the best venue to see them in.
What I love about Chad is for a while he just started playing in pretty small venues. No PA. He sings so loudly that he doesn’t need a PA. When he was doing that, I was like, “Oh, man, this is just the real item. This is like Chad up in your face, like in your living room. So great.”.
And Scott, isn’t it weird how fortunate I’ve been to have been able to be in a band with Mean, Greg, Dukowski, Tony, Frank, Karl, Stefan, Scott, Chad, Dave Smalley? Like, what did I do to be that fortunate, to just be surrounded by utter geniuses?
You’re not counting yourself in there, dude. You’ve got some good songs. How many people cite you as their favorite drummer, too?
I can’t talk about that. I can talk about all the guys. When you mentioned Chad and Scott, I’m standing at attention. Scott’s one of the most musically talented people I’ve ever known in my life. Chad was just given the voice that every rock singer wishes they had. Chad’s got it.
The guy who owned the shop was a big fan and had a sign that said “Kids On Coffee” on it. They mostly play jazz, blues, and bluegrass there.
I love going to see bluegrass stuff. I feel like there’s a lot of ball shredding. Shredding total ass in bluegrass. No style of music has that many dudes that can just play fifty times faster than anyone else. All the same with a smile on their face. Not making these artificial cum faces. That’s what was so cool about Billy Zoom. Billy Zoom would just stand up there and smile.
The first show that I went to, X played. It’s the only time I’ve seen them.
Who was it?
It was when Dennis Danell died. It was Social Distortion, Offspring, Pennywise, X, and TSOL.
Where was this?
Irvine Meadows in like 2000. They had a big benefit for him.
Wait, wait. Irvine Meadows.
Yeah.
When I was really young, I saw Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I think it was right when their second album came out. Yeah, it was cool. My dad bought me the tickets; he got one for himself and one for me to bring a friend. I had just kind of become friends with Frank. Frank, my dad, and I saw Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. That was my second big concert, with KISS being my first.
We won tickets on the radio, my buddy and I in ninth grade. It was at Magic Mountain. It was for the filming of the movie Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park. So, if you watch it, my little blonde-haired friend and I are right up there in the audience in the second row. I mean, everyone’s standing up, but you totally see me a few times in it. When did you first start going to shows?
That one for Dennis Dannell was my first.
That was your first time going to shows at all. How old are you?
I am forty-three.
You look thirty-five to me, but then you’re talking like you’re an old punker. I’m like, how old is this guy?
My parents were young when I was born, so they listened to some of the New Wave stuff. My mom liked The English Beat and Oingo Boingo.
I’ve ripped off a few things from the English Beat. Listen to “Paper Tiger” (from ALLROY Sez).
That makes sense now. Hearing it in my brain, now.
Like the rest of the records released, a special punk note version of the album is available from Org Music, but the best place to get it is your local record store.
UK punks, The Adicts, stopped at the legendary venue, The Fillmore, and were joined by Bay Area punks, Monster Squad, and Dog Party. The Adicts are known for their sensational live show and they didn’t disappoint. The crowd was filled with punks in classic studded vests to droog styles. Mimicking The Adicts, even some little […]
UK punks, The Adicts, stopped at the legendary venue, The Fillmore, and were joined by Bay Area punks, Monster Squad, and Dog Party.
The Adicts are known for their sensational live show and they didn’t disappoint.
The crowd was filled with punks in classic studded vests to droog styles. Mimicking The Adicts, even some little ones adorned bowler caps and face paint. It was also a multigenerational affair, both on and off stage, all coming together for a night of music.
Sister duo, Dog Party setoff the show to a great start. The Giles sisters have been taking stages by storm since they were very young, and their pure rocker spirit has continued to develop over the years.
Monster Squad have been a relentless force in the punk scene that have shaped so many of us, and tonight was no exception. They were the stepping stone to a night mixed with nostalgia and old sounds that still sound fresh.
Richy Russell filled in for rhythm guitarist Chris Chapel. Richy and drummer Matt Kadi have been long-time collaborators, also playing together in Build Us Airplanes. As much as Chris was missed, Richy gave a solid performance.
Monster Squad continued to build the energy before The Adicts took to the stage, and the circle pit began to rally.
The overall night was bound by community and felt like a small show, scaled up.
Check out more photos from the show on Instagram below.
Welcome to Four Records! Each episode, we feature one guest as they discuss the four records that helped shape them at four different times in their life. This week, Forrest speaks with Martin Wong. Martin was one of the founders and editors of Giant Robot Magazine, which ran from 1994 to 2011. Since 2019, he […]
Welcome to Four Records! Each episode, we feature one guest as they discuss the four records that helped shape them at four different times in their life. This week, Forrest speaks with Martin Wong. Martin was one of the founders and editors of Giant Robot Magazine, which ran from 1994 to 2011. Since 2019, he has been a contributor to Razorcake magazine, providing interviews and reviews. From 2013 to 2022, he raised money to help save music programs in Los Angeles schools with a series of afternoon matinees called Save Music in Chinatown.
Martin Wong’s Four Records:
0-10: Cheap Trick – Live At Budokan
Teenage: The Clash – London Calling
Twenties: J Church – Camels, Spilled Coronas, and The Sound of Mariachi Bands
