LAVELLA-BLOG!

If push absolutely came to shove, and I had to pick my three favorite punk songs ever, I'd go with "Loud Fast Rules" by The Stimulators, The Misfits anthemic "Horror Business" and this lil' gem called "Solitary Confinement" by early LA punk band The Weirdos. Formed in 1976 by brothers John and Dix Denney, and originally called The Luxurious Adults (genius!) the band released precious few records in their five year period of activity before splitting in 1981, but when they did, they made it count. This track is the B-side of their Dangerhouse Records 7" We've Got The Neutron Bomb which, if any of you are still around when I kick the bucket, please place it in my casket with me. No wonder that label became legendary, with releases like this on it, how could history have played out any differently?

As far as the clip itself goes, it just showed up on You Tube one day and no one seems to know or agree what it's exact origin is. There is a voice over by a confused (and/or dissapointed) announcer about halfway through, which in this case only aids in giving it some historical context. Punk was once weird, confusing and completely outside of anything that could be considered remotely mainstream, God bless it!

Labels: Video

One of the highlites of an already great car show in Santa Cruz yesterday was Los Chilaqz, a young and almost too much fun band from LA. Notice that the first annual (I hope!) Concrete Massacre was actually held at a huge concrete facility, it never gets boring in California folks.

Labels: Video

I still say 1970 has it all over 2010... toy wise anyway! Thanks Aurora.

Labels: Video

Dr. Robert
Blue Jay Way
I’m Only Sleeping
Baby’s In Black
Hey Bulldog

Labels: Top 5

The Golden State Warriors held a special Draft Day event at Oracle Arena today, and, just like any other time I've had a chance to go to anything NBA related for free, I went. Things didn't quite work out too well for me, or apparently anyone else, at this somewhat less than stellar event. I'll spare you the gory details, but highlights included a guy in an ill-fitting chefs hat yelling, "FOOD'S ALL GONE!" right as I picked up a plate after waiting in an alphabetically arranged line for 45 minutes, 95% of the crowd leaving the second The Sacramento Kings took DeMarcus Cousins with the 5th pick (the Warriors choosing Ekpe Udoh 6th was met with neither applause or boo's, just total indifference) but perhaps worst of all was this kid who would NOT give anyone else a turn on this nice, vintage 1981 Ms. Pac Man machine. i gotta admit that he WAS wearing the right jersey though, as he hogged this video game the same way Corey Maggette hogs the basketball. The new court did look great though, and better days are surely ahead... and if not, there's always next season... again!

Every time that April rolls around, I can’t help but think about Tim Yohannan. Tim died on April 3rd 1998 at the way too young age of 53, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been 12 years already. For those of you that don’t know, Tim founded Maximum Rock and Roll in the early 80’s, and was the guy that gave me my break as a journalist. Well, it goes a bit deeper than that even, he was actually the one that put the idea into my head that I could even be a writer. Standing outside of 924 Gilman, the legendary East Bay punk club that he also founded, on a fateful July evening in 1987, Tim told me that I should be a writer. When I told him that I’d never been to college for even five minutes, he simply said, “If you just write the way that you talk, it will be fine” and went on to tell me that if I actually did move to California, he’d put me on the MRR staff. 14 months later when I pulled into San Francisco, he made good on that promise. Writing for MRR lead directly to me writing for Thrasher, which lead to my column in RIP, all of which ultimately lead to me combining my love for car culture and punk rock and creating Gearhead Magazine. It might be a stretch to say that without Tim, there would be no Gearhead, but then again, maybe not. One things for sure, Tim showed me the blueprint for doing my own thing, exactly how I wanted to do it, and without compromise.

I loved that he drove a Volvo station wagon by the way, because it suited him perfectly. He constantly had places to go and things to do, and needed the most practical and reliable vehicle possible for these endless tasks. In the end, that’s really what I admired most about him: in a town that can be flaky beyond belief, if he said he was going to do something, he did it. Starting a legendary fanzine, a syndicated radio show, opening an all-ages club and a volunteer run record store along the way. He never took a dime for himself either, it was all about showing people how to build a truly independent community, working together, and without ego. Never flashy, just hard working and dependable… just like his Volvo.

Labels: Obituary

Nothing like a little inter-species luv to mark the occasion!