IT NEVER ENDS #12
RED ROCKERS ~ Guns of Revolution EP (Vinyl Solution 1980)
With the production help of Huns guitarist John Burton, New Orleans' Red Rockers — who took their sound from the Clash and their name from Dils — produced a fine little debut EP. None of their follow-ups could really touch "Guns of Revolution", though the band did gain some moderate commercial success. Whether it was sticking around their hometown, assembling picture sleeves, maintaining line-ups, or toeing the Party line, the Red Rockers didn't do anything for very long.
Back in 1999, our man Dirk Horst put together a fairly thorough Red Rockers dissection here. His discography lists the Red Rocker's debut EP as being issued only in a white paper sleeve. While true for the majority, an oversize picture sleeve was issued on plenty of copies, and it's been a want list standard for years. Cutting, folding, and pasting the picture sleeves proved to be a bit too proletarian for the band which is a cryin' shame considering how top-notch the artwork is.
Textured, coated stock makes the sleeve impervious to convincing color-copyingAnd just when collector scum had gnashed their teeth to the gums trying to find the above, INE introduces an even tastier morsel for all to sink their dentures into. Below is the ultra-rare first issue of the picture sleeve. The band designed and printed these before opting for the more professionally designed and printed "cockpit" artwork. According to the band, very few of this version were printed and most were trashed or used for set list stationery. One of these surfaced in the Jeff Bale collection years ago and only a couple others have been spotted since.
Crude two-color offset litho printing makes for a great punk rock aestheticAfter the Lubricants saga, I figured it was time for some short 'n' sweet installments, so th-th-that's all, folks. Stay tuned for further hair pulling, teeth gnashing, nail biting, and face smashing. Happy New Year.
— Ryan Richardson
January 1, 2006
October 19, 2011
Red Rockers ~ Guns of Revolution (New Orleans Punk following act)
Vomit Pigs
VOMIT PIGS
Mike was the Vomit Pig. There were Chris and Roy and Eddie and Doug and later Russell and me, but Mikey (or Mike Vomit or Mite Vomit) was the Vomit Pig. First and foremost, Mike had the Attitude. The Punk Attitude. The Anything/Everything Goes Attitude. The Watch Me Defy Death Attitude. But he maintained a certain mocking self-awareness through it all. He knew he was a "Useless Eater".
At first the guys had dubbed themselves The Vomit Pigs Make-Believe Blues Boobs Band, but this proved unwieldy and was truncated to just the Vomit Pigs and later to just the VPs. Some no-name cartoonist would later shamelessly appropriate the name Vomit Pigs for a strip about a rock band that bore not the slightest resemblance to Mike and friends. There were even T-shirts.
It all started when they lived in Daingerfield, Texas. Daingerfield has a reputation as a fertile breeding environment for mental infirmity. You might recall Daingerfield as both the site of Al King's 1980 Baptist cleansing and the childhood home of Marte Tilton, "wife" of televangelist/alien life form Robert Tilton. In his capacity as a high school math teacher, Al King had attempted to teach Algebra to all the original members of the Vomit Pigs. This will no doubt account in some measure for their continuing influence.
A tradition of sorts evolved from the VP's Halloween Parties at Rick's. There were several such parties at Rick's, starting around 1974. The VPs would play, Mike and a select group of band and audience members would take a few too many Quaaludes (prescribed quite legally for Mike by a nominally reputable doctor), consume prodigious amounts of beer, barbeque, and sundry illicit substances, and then proceed to throw up and/or disrobe on "stage" in front of as many as two hundred merely drunken locals assembled on the grass next to the large porch of Rick's farmhouse.
Mike's reputation as a performer didn't really blossom until he moved to Dallas. The re-formed Vomit Pigs began playing regularly at Dallas' seminal punk club, DJ's. By this time, Mike was on the ol' drug roller coaster, alternating days of crystal meth with days of 'ludes or downers and booze. His sexual escapades were the stuff of legends. He wrote prolifically, filling suitcases with poems, pictures and ideas. I saw his weight fluctuate up and down almost a hundred pounds. Mike went though a William Burroughs phase. After reading The Job, Mike insisted that we make a "virus tape" of our own. Burroughs' virus was meant to be used an offensive weapon. Sometimes I think it might have really worked.
The record was made in Texarkana in a little eight-track studio that billionaire Sam Walton used to make ads for Walmart. We pressed 500 copies, most of which were tossed into a cow pasture. The master tape was lost.
I wasn't around when Mike died that night outside Bobby Soxx's apartment. My guess is that his heart finally disintegrated in a toxic sludge of booze, junk food, and downers. Maybe the virus tape has something to do with it. The last time I saw him, his skin had the look of a splotchy white mushroom. He weighed at least 250. He smelled horrible. He might have had AIDS. But he still had the Attitude.
— Artie Turner, 1994
Twelve years after Artie wrote the liner notes up yonder, the VP's still hold sway over me and all red-blooded fans of early American punk, not simply for the rarity of their EP but for the band's audacity on every level... the time period, the locale, the music, the story. I look back on my Vomit Pigs / Superman's Girlfriend split reissue EP with regret... I should've done better by the VP's starting with not cutting one out of the four songs ("Slut"). Ah well... I was barely of legal drinking age much less sensible reissuing age, but my heart was in it. I did my penance by excavating a tape with some unreleased VP's studio tracks and released them on the Unquestionably Late For The Trend compilation EP. Thanks to Tony Mosier for dubbing the extremely raw tape of the 1978 Halloween show advertised above. Had this actually been released, it would've given Dot Vaeth (who attended the show) a run for the title of lo-fi release of the decade!— Ryan Richardson
January 2006
The original picture sleeve is crude thermal photocopy process, hastily folded and sloppily glued.
Black Randy (flier)
copied solar skates, unless we copied you!
All you can drink $3! (i remember raul's)
FIRST ANNUAL TEXAS NEW WAVE RETREAT Yello Belly Speedway (2nd gig?)
FIRST ANNUAL TEXAS NEW WAVE RETREAT at Yello Belly Speedway
It seemed like a good idea in at the time: get a bunch of Texas punk bands to recreate Altamont. Sponsored by the legendary DJ's (a pioneering punk venue in Dallas) proprietor Dolores Nolley and apparently a real flop despite the line-up. Plugz headlined for this October 1979 gig. Cool flier design by Frank Campagna. Original offset litho flier in great shape.
Price: $30.00
Johnny Rotten 'He's got the power' Rock Scene 1977
ROCK SCENE vol. III
Bomp (Ramones)
Clint Says Goodbye
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Clint Says Goodbye
I give up.Anyone who knows me all that well knows that I have struggled with mental illness for almost my entire life. I remember when I was in first grade, I was on anti-depressants. I don't remember exactly how that happened, but I do know that I was suicidal at the time. Five years old and suicidal.
Things never really got better.
While I don't remember exactly what happened, I remember this much: When I was in first-grade class, there was a substitute teacher. I was acting up somehow (not intentionally; I was just a wired kid who had no self-control), and the substitute got mad at me and scolded me, and told me to go out to the principal's office.
I couldn't understand why she was so mad. I didn't want to get in trouble. I remember crying, promising the teacher I would behave. She wouldn't listen, and kept insisting that I get out of her classroom. I cried more heavily, and repeatedly said "you don't need me anymore." What that really meant was "I'm sorry I disappointed you and made you mad. I don't want to live anymore."
While growing up, it seemed that everyone was against me in some way. There was hardly a day that went by where I didn't hear things like how stupid I was. How ugly I was. How bad I was. How worthless I was. How I would never amount to anything, ever. Even my father would get so angry at me that he would call me worthless, stupid, and/or pathetic.
Truth is, I've been in auto-pilot for the most part -- I had no control over anything, myself included. If I could do it over again, I would have gone through school making straight A's, listening to authority, and behaving like a good kid. I might have even made a few friends along the way. But the way I acted was the complete opposite. I couldn't focus, I couldn't make myself behave, and I didn't really understand who I was, where I was, or what I was doing there.
While I recently have gotten a (somewhat slightly) better grip on reality, it has not helped matters. I am beginning to see how right they were, about how I would never amount to anything. I am 31-years old. I have worked four months out of my entire life. I never leave the house, as I can't drive a car. I'm receiving disability, but I don't receive enough to buy groceries. I still live with my parents. I have never had a girlfriend. Hell, I'm almost 32, and am still a virgin. How pathetic is that? I mean, it's not as if the opportunity has never presented itself; but I guess it all boils down to the fact that I was always too scared and/or stupid to take advantage of it.
When I was younger, I got beat up a lot at school. I usually didn't put up much of a fight. What can I say -- I have never wanted to hurt people. Now, there are times where I would get mad enough to try and hit someone, but I always hesitated at the last second, so that the resulting blow wouldn't have harmed a newborn baby. And then I got my ass handed to me.
My behavior attracted such incidents. I was never able to keep calm -- I was always bouncing all over the place, my mind racing a mile a minute. When I annoyed someone, I kept doing it -- not to be a nuisance, but because I couldn't help it -- until it ended badly.
My goal in life has always been to make people happy. One could tell because of what I am involved in -- video game development, art, music, comedy writing, and so on. But it seems that the darn auto-pilot is still getting in the way. I keep screwing up, no matter how hard I try not to. In my fervor to make people happy, I end up making the people near me miserable. When I screw up -- which is pretty much every time I try to accomplish something -- I change into another person.
This other person is the complete opposite of what I want to be. This other person makes it a point to make anyone nearby miserable. This other person wants to do horrible things to me and other people. This other person wishes he could wipe out all life -- not just human life, but all life. To him, all life -- without exception -- is absurd to the point that it should simply be extinguished.
I believe this other person is the part of my personality that craves failure, destruction, and death. I have tried so hard for so long to be a good person, but that other part of me always wins out. I fear that, in time, this other person will finally bring the good in me down all the way. When that happens, I fear that the good in me will die, and that the evil within me will take complete control.
I don't understand why. I've struggled with whether God exists for years. When I was in my early 20s, I hated the idea that there was a supreme being of some sort, because there was so much evil in the world. Lately, I have reconsidered that position, and have in fact come to believe that God *is* out there. I've tried to pray to him, but that other part of me keeps me far away from God. I've cried and pleaded for God to help me fight it. My pleas have, apparently, fallen upon deaf ears.
So, after all that, I give up. I'm not going to kill myself, because there is still enough good left in me to see that's what the other person wants. I am not going to give into him. But I do want to apologize to all the people I've ever met for coming into their lives. Everyone deserves better than to have had my presence -- whether momentary, long-term, or anywhere in-between -- taint their existence or their happiness.
I plan to seclude myself from others from now on. When the other person finally wins, I have no idea what will happen. I do not want to hurt anyone else ever again. The best way to see to that is to make sure no when is near me when it happens.
If you have ever known me and are reading this, please forgive me. Forgive me for any time I've ever made you anything but happy. Forgive me for being who I am. Forgive me for being evil. Allow me to disappear into the darkness, unseen, where I belong, and where I can never hurt anyone ever again.
The part about this that is truly unfair is that I love people, but all I can do is harm them. Thus, I must never allow myself to become close to anyone ever again.
Goodbye, my dear friends. I will sorely miss you.