LATE

Call me a sellout or an asshole all you want, but I'm taking this show on the road.

KEVIN'S NEW BLOG

PUBLIC NOTICE

This blog is due for its scheduled comeback (if you read my old website, you know how many times we had "comebacks," "rebirths," "6th man awards," etc.), just as soon as I go to two more doctor's appointments, ace a sales forecasting exam, fix my phone, get my civilian conservation corps tattoo, put gas in my car, watch The Perfect Man from beginning to end and take a shower... in exactly that order.

By the way, if anyone's really just aching for something with my name on it, I've still got that column in AP. I haven't actually looked at an AP in months because they don't give me the magazine for free, but I think I'm around page 40.

E-Mail Of The Year

Does anyone remember that rap group Quarashi? You know, the Icelandic Beastie Boys or whatever they were billed as (famous for the especially frat party-friendly "Stick 'em Up"). Their guitarist e-mailed me today (he made friends with all of us on Warped in '02).

From: Smári Jósepsson
Sent: Tue 3/20/2007 8:01 AM
To: kwade@usc.edu
Subject: KW


KEEEEEEEEVIN WAAAAAAAAAAAAADE.

there's a track called Kevin Wade on my next album.

Good shit?

How's it goin'?

Smári

Evolution

I know it looks terrible. I'm messing around with the template. Chill.

Dying Formats

This bit of sad news comes from one of the best labels and batch of people in music over at Suburban Home:

Suburban Home Records has been my life for the past 11 years. Through my experiences with the label, I have had some of the most incredible times of my life, met some of my best friends, and even found the love of my life. Although some of my greatest moments have occurred because of Suburban Home, I have also experienced some of my lowest lows. Running a record label in 2007 has become much more difficult considering the music retail landscape. Due to declining sales/revenue, I have been forced to make a very difficult decision. On May 1st, 2007, Suburban Home will have to cut back on staff and move the company into the residence I share with my wife and son, my Suburban Home. [Read the entire message...]

I admire how honest Virgil continues to be with his business, as people fail to realize just how difficult it has been to maintain a truly independent record label in 2007. There are very few labels left that are free of major-label funding and, of those, basically none of them are thriving. They push on through love of their products (and, in some cases, probably some ego). I wish more indies would step up and let people know when they're struggling. I'm not calling for a massive pity-fest, but it might remind people to try and stick up for the good guys (when they can) rather than chuck another 14 bucks to Fueled By Ramen for a Panic At The Disco reissue.

In my school, the term "dying industry" has been tagged to music more than once, and that's absolutely one of the most depressing things I've ever heard. People are listening to music more than ever, and they'll pay 500 bucks to see Mick Jagger evade death for one more day but apparently don't have 10 bucks for a CD they enjoy. The industry, at the top, is run by idiots who blame the computing industry for their problems rather than find revolutionary solutions to revitalize their business, but it just upsets me so much that the most honest and hard working people in music are the ones that are losing the most.

Stop buying 30 dollar shirts from Urban Outfitters and go buy a freakin' record. Take a night off from your nightly 80's dance-club rotation and go to a fucking show.

Is Perry Farrell The New Mayor Of New York?

This is a pretty loose connection for a title - I just heard once that Perry Farrell loves pajamas. Anyway.

A pillow fight in the middle of New York city? This sounds fantastic (be sure to listen to the commentary from some of the participants - particularly the part where the reporter asks his interviewee to strike him with the pillow). Check out video and info on the organizers here.

Syllable Counting LIVE

I had the opportunity to see ex-Hot Water Music frontman Chuck Ragan's show on Monday night at Tangier in Los Feliz, CA. He was recording a portion of his Side One Dummy debut in an intimate live setting in front of about 80 onlookers, goof-ups and all. He brought out mandolin and violin players to supplement his blue-collar folk anthems. As my roommate put it, "I had a smile on my face for the entire set." His rugged and powerful voice kept the room completely riveted for over an hour. I better get on to the haiku, or this will be a worthless post. Look for Chuck Ragan's solo record on Side One Dummy later this year.

Beers are six dollars?
Seriously, what the hell?
Great show, however.

It's a Good Thing He's The Best Point Guard In The East

From espn.com:

Gilbertology update: Arenas offered up his best excuses for dodging reporters this week. He said he left quickly after Tuesday's victory over Minnesota because he wanted to see the movie "Hannibal Rising" -- he shrugged his shoulders in disappointment when asked for a review -- and said he would have to beat a quick path out of the arena Thursday to prepare for the upcoming road trip. "I have to pack," he said. Why couldn't he pack before the game? Because, Arenas said, a power outage prevented him from getting into his own house, which has a sophisticated security system. Apparently, he's saving "the dog ate my homework" for a later date.

Whatever. Can't argue with 10 games over .500 for a team that traditionally wins no more than 10 games in an entire season.

Syllable Counting 7

Comeback Kid Broadcasting... (Victory)

This record sounds huge.
Way better than Wake The Dead.
Youth crew renaissance?

Syllable Counting 6

Fall Out Boy Infinity On High (Island/Def Jam)

The Babyface song?
Actually not terrible.
The rest of this blows.

Kevin Feedback

I recently (actually, it was today) delivered a speech for my "Professional Development for Leaders" class (read: public speaking). I'm a terrible public speaker. For that matter, I'm a terrible private speaker as well. By some miracle, or possibly a voting box mishap, I received "best in room" votes for my speech today. I probably only received one, but it sufficiently stroked my ego, since there were 14 speakers. I'm still a terrible public speaker. Everyone in the audience had to provide feedback, so.... let's hear from the audience:

Pros
"Very persuiasive"
"Passionate"
"Good stories"
"Good intro"
"Good conclusion"
"Good hook"
"No notes! Good job"

Cons
"There wasn't any structure after your intro, so I was not sure on what your point was, but then I figured it out."
"Tentative"
"Stop playing with your hands"
"Monotone"
"Your purpose wasn't clear"
"Eye contact. More eye contact"
"How long is your intro?"
"Needs structure. What's your point?"
"Disorganized."
"Avoid technical difficulties - though not really your fault"
"You sounded nervous."
"Work on your transitions."
"Seemed all over the place."

Oh yeah, I spoke for five minutes on why music downloading is a pox on our society.

Bowling? Drunk? The?

Do I always speak with a drawl when I drink? I am that self-unaware?

Sean and I made our way to Vegas a couple weeks ago for the annual Punk Rock Bowling Tournament. We bowled with the always affable and mostly Canadian gentlemen from punknews.org, and finished somewhere between 97th and 192nd place. Not good. We did, however, find some time after our hopeless bowling performance to drunk dial not only Mr. Dickerson's Drunk Dial Hotline, but also his hotel room a mere 2 floors above our own. While Virgil's bowling team was equally as miserable as our own, he fared a bit better at the blackjack tables. Congrats to Epitaph for winning the tournament for the eight millionth time in a row, and congrats to Sean and myself for leaving the following drunk dials.

Sean's phone call
My phone call

Mundane Basketball Names Restated

If you ever play the video game NBA Street, you're familiar with the ground-swell to create more entertaining basketball nicknames. We've created an entire 12-man roster* of obscure and curious basketball nicknames, should I ever decide to coach a team and have the final say in naming rights. This is a bit of a tangent from the term redifinition project, but we'll get back on track soon enough.

Starting 5
The Skillet
Tough Juice
ATM
Homeland Security
Dr. Hoops

Bench
King Sir
Cotton Gin
Bill "The Filabuster" Flennington**
Side Arm
The Human Piñata
Poor Man's Isaiah Thomas
Thumbs McMurtry


* names have pending copyright protection.
** not to be confused with mid-90's Bulls center Bill Wennington.(pictured above).

Syllable Counting 5

The Bled Pass The Flask (Reissue) (Vagrant)

I haven't listened.
CD's copy protected.
Come back in two months.

Is Bart Simpson The New Mayor Of Tijuana?

Seems like it...

Update!

Nevermind. I think it was a bit of an exaggerated tale, despite NPR mentioning it on this week's Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! According to the Washington Post:

Tijuana police initially stopped patrols after their guns were taken, saying it was too dangerous, but most later returned to work. In some cases, officers were accompanied by armed state police. Others patrolled in larger numbers than normal. One officer was seen holding a slingshot that he said was for his protection.

Oh well. Sounded fun.

Syllable Counting 4

The Draft In A Million Pieces (Epitaph)

Hot Water Music!
How I miss your rugged songs.
This is pretty close.

Jinxing Them, Again

Take The Venom Out Of A Cobra And What Are You Left With?

My old punkrocks.net comrade and till-recent housemate Barry Scatton has finally done the world a favor and started his own blog. He moonlights as a writer for Decoy, but the censorship he's subject to is depriving the world of his A+ material. If you enjoy relentless ranting, action movies, Bigwig, or take pleasure in the outspoken agony of a lifelong Red Sox fan, you're going to want to pay attention.

(A belt.)

Syllable Counting, Thrice

Saliva Blood Stained Love Story (Island)

Hahahahaha
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Worst band of all time.

Syllable Counting, Again

Shiny Toy Guys We Are Pilots (Universal)

That song "Le Disko?"
Yeah, total one hit wonder.
Very Depeche Mode.

Syllable Counting

Here comes another regular feature. I plan to start writing haiku reviews of records that surface at our house that only barely deserve to be reviewed in the first place (I tried this once before). Normally I won't give this little intro paragraph to really put the focus on the all-encompassing nature of the haiku itself, but let's just call this one an explanatory example. Freya is comprised of most of the members of Earth Crisis, and is probably one of the least important bands in music today. They don't completely suck, but you get the idea.

Freya Lift The Curse (Victory)

Remember Slither?
Earth Crisis gone groove-metal?
Same thing, pretty much.

Mundane Basketball Terms Redefined

In the second part of this continuing crusade to rejuvenate the common basketball phrasebook, we rename several court locations with especially boring names.

The "lane" (current nickname: "the paint") is now referred to as Hot Lava or simply The Lava. Example: "The Clippers are dominating the lava this evening, grabbing a season-high 20 offensive boards."

The "free throw line" (current nickname: "charity stripe") will, from here on out, be known as the Freedom Parallel (and "free throw percentage" naturally becomes the Freedom Index.) Example: "Despite a league-low 68% freedom index, The Bucks iced their victory last night down the stretch shooting a perfect 8 for 8 from the freedom parallel in the final 3 minutes."

The "three point line" (current nicknames: "long distance," "the arc") is henceforth called The Rooftop. Example: "Though not considered a shooter, Chris Paul made 6 of 8 from the rooftop last night on the way to a game-high 31 points."

We'll stick to only three terms today - we'll have more next week. Don't think the "sideline" and the "key" aren't prime candidates for new monikers.

I'm Sure I Won't End Up Going...

...but this year's Coachella lineup is pretty outstanding.


We could all dream though...

MVP

When Michael Redd, who just so happens to be the new most underrated player in the NBA (now that Gilbert Arenas has officially taken over the world), can't do anything but smile when Gilbert sinks a 35-foot game-winner against his team, you know there's something special brewing. I haven't been this excited about pro-basketball, well, ever.

Admittedly, there was a brief moment of excitement about 8 months ago during the 2006 playoffs, when Gilbert (I can address him by his first name because I suffered through literally a lifetime of terrible DC basketball) drained a 40-footer to force overtime against the Cavs, only to have my entire month ruined by Lebron James' 3rd buzzer beater in four games. That's so incredibly not happening this year, even if me writing about it on the internet could potentially jinx it.

Gentlemen! You Can't Fight In The War Room!

If this doesn't conjure up images of a real-life Dr. Strangelove (particularly considering the presence of the creepily similar Stephen Hawking), I don't know what would... you know, other than Slim Pickens surfing a misfired nuke right into the heart of the Urals. While I do endorse the pro-time travel characteristics of this so-called "clock," it seems mostly just like a desperate plea for attention from personalities in science now well-past their respective primes. Like we really want to know what Arthur C. Clarke thinks after reading the waste of trees that was 3001. Can't these people unite their scientific and technological acumen to create a fully-automated doomsday clock? The Mayans managed to come up with a system thousands of years ago, and they had to overcome that senseless base-60 number system and lack of Microsoft Excel.

The founder of Swatch would be spinning in his grave (assuming he's dead).

Lofty Dreams

I've never been one for remembering my dreams. On the off chance that I do, they frequently coincide with my astrological sign (Virgo), which, as best I can tell, dictates that I should lead my life like a housewife... not that I wouldn't be a great housewife. I'm usually either washing dishes or picking up buckets of chicken from KFC without any real incident or excitement. I think in one particularly racy dream, I bought printer cartridges while wearing cutoff shorts.

Maybe my mood is changing, but I recently had what I consider to be a tremendously action-packed dream, even if I can sum it up in about two sentences. The Washington Redskins had somewhat of a disastrous season this year, finishing 5-11 and missing the playoffs for the 12th time in the last 14 years. My dream begins on the last day of the season - the Redskins are going into their final game of the season against the New York Giants and, from what I can tell, it's a big game. The details on the game are a bit fuzzy - I was probably over at CVS picking up Dixie Cups or something - but as the Redskins mount their final drive down by two points, I find myself warming up on the sidelines for a potential walk-off field goal. Not surprisingly, the Skins march down the field into the 40-yard territory, and I come on the field. Of course, I miss... but some sort of strange penalty that seemed more like the officials partaking in a filibuster led to me getting a second opportunity. I split the uprights and the Redskins go on to win.

They finish the season 6-10 and get the 12th pick in the draft.

Hopefully my next pro sports dream involves a team over .500.

Episode 84: Coincidences

From Suburban Home:

Sean-Michael from Mammoth Press and Kevin Wade formerly of Punkrocks.net are both habitual drunk dialers. I thought it fitting that although Sean-Michael and Kevin Wade were on opposite coasts, they both called within minutes of each other. Neil and Sean of Mammoth Press called together on the East Coast and mention that Sean has no pants on while recapping their favorite records of 2006 which included the Hold Steady, Drag the River, The Pippettes, amongst others. Kevin Wede and dudes from Yellowcard call from a party in Hollywood and it sounds like everyone is getting their Spanglish on. Happy new years guys. I hope I get to see you in Vegas next week!

Listen to our geographically and diametrically opposed drunk dials here.

Mundane Basketball Terms Redefined

Welcome to what I hope to be my first recurring theme here, now that they allow the ever-popular tagging on blogger. Alongside co-geniuses Casey and Michele, we've begun to retool the standard basketball journalist's phrasebook to make the sport sound like the true man-to-man war that it is.

Today's redefinition is for the term "loose ball." You know, like, when the ball is in no one's posession and all the players go diving for it. Sounds a little more exciting than "loose ball" lets on, right? From here on out, we collectively dub the loose ball, the Alabama Scramble.

Named for the late Alabama Franklin of the New Orleans Jazz, the Alabama Scramble became a popular local term in the south in the 70's as Franklin was rather adept and denying inlets to the high post and swatting away the point guard's posessions, but could never quite recover possession without causing a mass of flying bodies resembling a bad game of Twister. We'd like to dedicate this exciting occurrence in basketball to him.

My New Years Resolution Is To Talk About 2006 A Lot.

I resisited composing a best-of list for 2006 for a few reasons, the most obvious being that I no longer run a music website. Additionally, I just hate writing lots of paragraphs of mini-reviews backing up my picks. It's impossible to avoid thinking about, however, and as I started putting my list together, I noticed a lot of similarities between the best records in my player this year. For me, 2006 was all about punk rock actually getting good again beyond the biannual efforts from Bad Religion and Green Day.

The Riverboat Gamblers - To The Confusion Of Our Enemies

The Loved Ones - Keep Your Heart

No Trigger - Canyoneer

The Lawrence Arms - Oh! Calcutta

Ryan's Hope - Apocalpyse In Increments

Rise Against - The Sufferer And The Witness

Good Riddance - My Republic

Ignite - Our Darkest Days

Latterman - We Are Still Alive

The Falcon - Unicornography

I'd love to see someone do a study on the inverse relationship between the quality of punk rock and the president's approval rating. While bands like The Riverboat Gamblers don't necessarily have a sharp political bent, all of these records are inspired and thrilling efforts that should make any fan of fast music smile.

The second grouping of great records in 2006 is basically just a list of the Vagrant 2006 roster (not counting Senses Fail and Saves The Day... please). After a few years of pedestrian releases and label-building, Vagrant strung together a number of great releases, all from bands offering their Vagrant debut.

Protest The Hero - Kezia

The Hold Steady - Boys And Girls In America

The Lemonheads - The Lemonheads

Moneen - The Red Tree

Alexisonfire - Crisis

I lied - Moneen's on their second record for Vagrant but, honestly, who really noticed? As a bit of a corollary, Alexisonfire's side project Cancer Bats dropped easily the best hardcore record of the year (speaking of... it was a rough year for that genre).

The final cluster of releases that contributed to my car stereo's untimely death over the summer were the guilty pleasure records. These might not have been the most groundbreaking or intellectually challenging records, which means pitchfork writers and their related devotees will mock my ignorance for enjoying these, but someone once told me that you can't argue with taste... so, more or less, fuck you.

Set Your Goals - Mutiny

Saosin - Saosin

Gnarles Barkley - St. Elsewhere

The Sounds - Dying To Say This To You

DJ Shadow - The Outsider

Dragonforce - Inhuman Rampage

Maxeen - Hello Echo

The only record I left out of these three categories because it managed to stick out completely on its own to battle with the Gamblers for my record of the year is one I wrote about a couple months ago. The Long Winters' Putting The Days To Bed is the one record that you should buy this year, regardless of your tastes.

And for the worst record of the year, I'll throw it over to this interview with Mike Patton. Dead on.