The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXXIV

Okay, people. 

It's mid-November. The Holiday Pre-Season is upon us.

And you all know what that means. . . .

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey.

We're on the tenth year of me doing this, folks. Ten years of hunting down Christmas records of every stripe, whether they're limited edition, color pressings intentionally hunted down off of Amazon, dusty, mice-chewed vintage albums found stacked (flat, of course) in thrift stores, or random curiosities with hilarious album art plucked from the Dollar Bin at my local record shop, Radio Wasteland. I'll amass a small pile of yuletide albums - usually between ten and fifteen - pour a drink, and then type up a review for each and every one of them throughout the Holiday Season.

It's simple work, but it's honest work.

Seeing how it's the first installment of this season's vinyl scrutinization, I'll once again direct your attention to the sacred rating scale we use around these parts:

10 - . . . And Out Come the Wolves  (Perfection. Don't believe me? Name a better punk album. I'll wait.)

9 - Cowabunga!  (I'm Gen-X, guys - for people in my age group, this term encapsulates the feeling of being round-house kicked across the face by a Ninja Turtle. But in a good way.)

8 - Awesome  (Solid, without any major faults. Worthy of repeated spins during the Holidays. )

7 - Pretty Rad  (Generally, in order for an album of mine to stay in Holiday Season Rotation, it needs to be rated '7' and up.)

6 - Decent  (This is the point where it gets dicey. Once and awhile a '6' makes it into constant rotation, but only if it satisfies a previously-vacant Holiday music niche.  These albums almost always get 'Shelved':  I hold on to them - for the time being - but they lose turntable time for the duration of the Season.)

5 - Meh   (This is the dime-a-dozen wasteland, where you find your Julie Andrews and your Percy Como's. Anything below this point is almost always put into my annual 'Donate to Goodwill' pile.)

4 - Borophyll  (There may be some redeeming qualities here that might make albums at this score appeal to some people, but definitely not to Yours Truly.)

3 - Seriously?  (Comically bad, if you will.)

2 - Reality TV  (There's only one thing shittier than Reality TV, gang. . . .)

1 - Ohio  (Do I really have to explain this?)

Good.  Now that everyone's been refreshed with how shit works around here, let's just go ahead and get started, shall we. . .

Album Title:  Punk Rock Christmas 2

Album Artist:  Various Artists

So this album was purchased by mistake, believe it or not. A couple months ago I had attempted to buy an album called Halloween Garage Blues off Amazon (you know, for Halloween.) Well, the album arrives a few days later, I open it up, and - lo and behold - it's a James Brown Christmas album. I double-checked the UPC sticker on the cardboard mailer, and it said it was Halloween Garage Blues, but the album inside was different. I briefly thought about keeping it anyway, but I'm only so-so with James Brown and dropping $18 on a Christmas album just to review on this blog of mine seemed stupid, so I ended up returning it.

I tried ordering the album a second time, and - just as before - the cardboard mailer stated that it was, in fact, the album that I had ordered. But again, upon opening it up, I found this album instead. Punk Rock Christmas 2. At this point, I said 'f*** it' and just cut my losses. I love punk rock, I love Christmas, maybe this one would pan out decent. Plus, it looks pretty cool: pressed on heavy, white vinyl, the jacket and presentation of this compilation is awesome - album artwork carries the same skeleton motif as as the first installment in this series (which I don't own. . . yet). 

Now, on to the album itself.  Punk Rock is tricky, and I say that as someone who holds this sub-genre of rock and roll as the greatest out there. There are multiple styles, spanning nearly fifty years, and as such you have to build a punk playlist adhering to certain rules. Most importantly of these is sound: punk rock has evolved from snarling, fashion-oriented rebellion (in England's and New York City's respective, late 70's scenes), to the class warfare motifs of the hardcore explosion in California and Washington D.C. in the early 80's. It started to die out, only to see a rebirth in the skate-punk bands of the mid-90's, and then MTV caught on and, on the heels of successful crossover bands like Green Day and The Offspring, we ended up with the highly polished 'pop-punk' of the early 2000's. 

Though calling any pop-punk band 'punk' is a grievous sin. Don't do that shit: Pop-Punk stands alongside 'Boy Bands' or 'Hick Hop' atop the World's Most Insufferable Music list.

With sound in mind, we have the approach to compiling albums with various artists. You CANNOT have a '70s punk band on the same album as a pop-punk/emo group, that's the sort of thing a 7th grader does when building their edgy playlist to listen to on the school bus every morning. Regardless, whoever came up with this compilation seemed to be grasping at straws in order to fill up a second compilation of punk-ish Christmas songs, because that's exactly what we have here. Classic originators from the '70s like Johnny Thunders on the same side as the insufferable, whiny-voiced Amber Pacific, whose entire discography is clearly written for 14-year-olds who think Amber Pacific is 'edgy.'

(They're not.)

I wish I could say that this was a compilation of poorly-chosen artists alone, and that even if they didn't blend well laterally they at least all had some decent songs on here. Sadly, that isn't the case, I'm afraid. Some songs - like Naked Aggression's 'What We Buy' and MDC's '(Merry Christmas) The World's on Fire' aren't even Christmas songs, they just have Christmas-related words in the song title. That's lazy-ass studio exec'ing, guys. 

Pace is an issue as well. Reagan Youth's 'Punk Rock Christmas' or The Members' cover of 'Happy X-Mas (War is Over)' are slow and painful affairs that barely qualify as 'punk' at all (and punk legends Reagan Youth's vocals are so bad on this track you can barely listen to the song in its entirety.) It's okay to slow things down once and awhile in punk music, but when that happens you have to do one of two things: 1.) switch from shout-singing to actually singing, or 2.) continue to shout-sing. The former takes talent, the latter takes conviction. . . and in punk rock conviction is the biggest asset to a vocalist, and the main determining factor in whether or not a band will cut it for you. I listen to a LOT of punk rock, and my favorite bands are the ones where the singer can be believed in what he's saying, even if he sings like total shit. Within a second or two of a vocalist coming in on a verse I can tell whether or not I can listen to that band, regardless of whether or not I like the sound of the band (ex. the Dead Kennedys sound awesome but I can't listen to them because Jello Biafra's voice makes me want to take my own life.)

It's not all doom-and-gloom for this season's first album review, though - we have some definite bright spots to highlight here. The Rumjacks' track, 'Christmas in Killarney,' is a breath of fresh air, rollicking across three minutes like the Dropkick Murphys' cousins from Australia were only in town to celebrate the Holidays for one night and were damned sure to make the most of it. 90's skate-punk veterans Pulley and Down by Law (as well as Down by Law's singer's side-project band, Dave Smalley and the Bandeleros) all deliver on their tracks, as well. There were even a couple bands I was previously unaware of, like Bankrupt (from Hungary, I guess?) and Ship Thieves (who arguably have the best track on this entire album with 'Who Put the Gum in Santa's Whiskers?') who managed to figure out how to do Christmas songs the proper, punk way. 

It shouldn't be f***ing rocket science, but I guess some bands - and the label executives who compile these holiday albums - struggle with it.

So, in the end, this album is all over the damn place. Cohesively, it's a hot mess - from bands' sounds not meshing, to artists of various eras not blending together track-by-track, to bands who probably shouldn't even be in the same zip code as authentic punk bands, etc. Some songs are definite punk rock originals about the Holidays, but others just seem to feature Christmas-ish words in the titles. There are great songs on here, and some decent ones, some 'meh' ones, and some God-awful ones that I will skip over every, damn time. If one of your determining factors when selecting a Christmas album is consistency, than this one is certainly not your jam.

Ultimately, it comes down to an appreciation of the genre itself, and when it comes to punk rock, rules aren't meant to be blindly adhered to. Cohesiveness and consistency? I guess none of that really matters in the end with punk rock. As shitty as some of the songs on here are, there's enough glorious, Holiday moments to be found on here to keep it in rotation.  Oi Oi Oi.

VERDICT:  7/10 - Pretty Rad (If it were possible to rank it a '6.5' I would, but we don't do that '.5' sorta shit around these parts.)

- REMAINS IN CIRCULATION -

- Brian

Punk is Dad, Vol. IV

Oi.

There are very few bands out there that I'll make a point of seeing whenever they come even remotely close to my neck of the woods. 

For starters, ticket prices are more expensive now than they've ever been, exacerbated by Ticketmaster, of course, but also though the venues, which have all been swallowed up by some booking company that forces them to pay insane fees in order to host artists on tour. It's completely ruined live music for most people - paying to see a remotely known artist generally will set you back a couple hundred dollars, and I, for one, refuse to pay that much to see a band.

But punk rock bands?

The biggest names in punk music still charge under $50 for a ticket, and that's just my cup of tea. I've seen dozens of shows in my lifetime and I've only paid more than this on one occasion: when BP, Kimmel and I went to see Rancid open up for Green Day on the Saviors Tour back in September. That ticket was like $112, but we knew we'd be paying a higher price because, well, it is Green Day, and they're pretty mainstream.

BP's The Lord of the Rings-inspired garage doormat.

BP and I have an understanding that whenever Rancid or the Bouncing Souls come through Michigan, we have to go check them out. Sometimes we have to drive out to Chicago, and Kimmel gets involved, but most of the time we end up in Detroit. This time around, however, the Bouncing Souls were coming to Grand Rapids, which is even easier for us because it's closer and not such a pain in the ass to get in and out of.

For the low price of $32, we were able to check out one of our favorite bands in a super small venue - 400 people, tops - and even while standing off to the side, halfway back from the stage, BP and I were probably 30 feet from the stage. Pretty damn sweet.

Seems a bit pricey for one beer can, Meijer. . .

I took a quarter day off of work, leaving around 1:30pm, and a two hour drive later I was at BP's place in Rockford. We did a beer run to a local Meijer, grilled out at his place for dinner, and, around 8pm, headed downtown to the venue, The Pyramid Scheme. We missed the entire first opening act, and all but two songs from the second - which we were more than cool with - before H20 took the stage. Then, an hour later, it was time for the Souls.

Not one of the greatest Bouncing Souls shows we've ever seen - it was super hot in the tight confines of the venue, the sound mixing was a little muffled, and standing still on concrete for two and a half hours is straight-up murder on a mid-40s back - but it was awesome nonetheless. We'll continue to make pilgrimages to see this band, whenever they come through our neck of the woods, until they throw in the towel.

But, seeing how they're a punk band, that's not likely to happen any time soon.

So here you go, folks - another adventure into '90s punk rock with a couple of mid-40's dads.

Behold. . . .

BP, being Amish, has yet to upgrade to a propane grill, preferring instead to use charcoal like his ancestors did hundreds of years ago.

Grabbed a tall boy of this while we were out on a beer run to Meijer - perfect choice for sunny, high-70s grilling weather. Hoping to get my hands on more of this once summer breaks out.

The DeBoer fam has this big goose statue that's being painted in their garage. Sam said it's a custom with some folks, somewhere (I forget), and that folks dress it up during the Holidays. Maybe it's a southern thing, who knows.

Couple hours later, BP and I hit the road for downtown Grand Rapids, about a twenty-minute drive from his house in Rockford.

Took a hot minute to find available parking, but after being turned away from a few parking garages - like Joseph and the Virgin Mary in the Nativity - we finally found one that had spots available.

We had to drive up to the second-highest level of the garage before we found available parking, but fortunately there was an elevator nearby to take us down to street level.

It was a quick, two-block walk to the venue from there, and as we approached The Pyramid Scheme (shown here with the mural along the side), we saw that the band unloading out front was none other than H20. We walked right through them on our way into the show, which is pretty crazy - you can do that with mainstream artists without getting body-checked by their security detail.

The front half of this place looks like any normal dive bar, but after you walk through this front section you approach the bouncers and a closed door. Through that check point, it opens up into the concert area, which had two raised balconies on either side and a main floor. They had a merch table set off on the right, next to the bar, and some bench seating off the left.

I forget the name of this second band that was opening up for the Souls - something like '***** Hause & The Mermaid,' I forget it all - they were only 'meh.' We caught the last two songs, which sounded like general rock, and the overall vibe they gave off was that of an older band that had never managed to gain traction but was still trying to be relevant and controversial (lots of anti-government stuff, which is fine but when your sound doesn't match your message, it comes across pretty cringe.) We were less than impressed.

As always, neither BP nor myself took any pics or video of the concert itself - I've always found that tacky in a punk setting like this (granted, I took lots of pics and video at Green Day/Rancid, but there was literally nobody sitting behind us at that concert.) Instead, I did what I usually do and screenshot a bunch of pics and video (off of Instagram) that other concert-goers and professional photographers took during the show. They almost always turn out better than what I'd take anyway. 

H20 have never been one of my favorite punk groups. I used to have one or two of their CDs, and there songs were usually featured on the Fat Wreck Chords or Epitaph compilation CDs back in the day, but I haven't listened to them all since college. Not a big fan of that 'pogo' hardcore sound, it comes off kinda cheesy.

It felt like it was 130 degrees in this place, considering the size of the venue and the hundreds of sweaty people crammed in. I have no frickin' clue how the singer didn't pass out on stage in that frickin' hoodie.

That's probably the coolest handlebar mustache in punk rock, folks.

Some younger, replacement bassist they picked up somewhere along the way (all the original guys are pushing 60.) They made a joke about how he just got his Green Card, so he must be Scandinavian (or German) or something - definitely has that look.

Various angles of pics here - I pulled these off various Instagram accounts (you're welcome.)

(I wish there was a way to remove those annoying slideshow buttons while taking a screenshot.)

The Bouncing Souls took the stage around 9:30pm, and the crowd was HYPED.

(That lit area in the back off to the right is where the merch booth was set up.)

LOTS of crowd-surfing tonight (which you'll see in a later video I've included.) Some moshing, too, but the Souls have a lot of songs that don't really trigger impromptu pits.

Some solo shots of dudes in the band. . .

This guy posted like six different videos, so screen recording it off Instragram while trying to swipe to the next video was a pain in the ass. I tried to pause at the end of each one, swipe to the next video, then resume my screen recording, but it's a bit rough. You get what you get, folks.

Since the song was released years ago, 'Ghosts on the Boardwalk' has turned into a nightly acoustic performance. Now, when we last saw the Souls a couple years ago in Chicago - during the height of Covid - their drummer had contracted the virus and they were forced to rely on three, different drummers (from the opening bands, local musicians, etc. instead. Each 'guest' drummer took three songs of theirs throughout the night, because learning the drum parts and entire set's worth of songs would be impossible with such short notice. To fill even more concert time, the singer did a couple acoustic songs in the middle of the set, which, at the time, was pretty awesome. Still, this was during Covid and, well, the world was different back then - folks needed that sorta vibe. Today, in the middle of a high-energy concert, the singer again broke out an acoustic guitar and the rest of the band retreated backstage for a break. But this time it felt jarring. 

I think it was out of place this time around. Last time, the audience knew that the band was without a drummer and trying to fight through the show at any cost, so an acoustic 'mini-set' in the middle to fill time was understandable (and appreciated.) This time, though, coming on the tail-end of an opening burst of eight or nine, fast, intense songs, to stop everything all at once for some slow, melancholy song just felt forced.

After that minor gripe, they were back to business for the rest of the show, playing all the favorites (and a handful of deep tracks and new numbers.) With one or two songs remaining in their set list (which BP had pulled up on his phone from the tour's previous show in Detroit), BP and I fought our way over to the merch table where we each bought a limited edition art print (numbered and signed) of the tour (the East Coast, F*** You tour.) They had vinyl, too - BP bought one - but I already own copies of all their albums that I want, and their pricing wasn't awesome.

We ended up walking out just as the band was closing up, around 10:30pm or so. Got one last show of the venue on our way back to the parking garage, and then from there we headed back to his house for a couple nightcaps before turning in around 1am. See Ya in the Pit, kids.

- Brian

Punk is Dad, Vol. III

What up, Fam.

So last spring, BP and Kimmel - two of my closest friends dating back to High School - and I bought tickets to see Rancid in Detroit. Rancid, as you may or may not know, is my all-time favorite band, and I've seen them in concert probably a dozen times by now. 

This time on their way through Michigan, they'd be opening up for The Smashing Pumpkins and Green Day, two fellow '90s bands that were much more mainstream back in the day. The Pumpkins definitely aren't relevant anymore, but Green Day is still immensely popular, so we were blown away when we were able to score some pretty awesome seats at Comerica Park - the venue they would be performing at - for a mere $110 apiece.

Fast forward to this evening.

I met up with BP and Kimmel at the hotel Kimmel had booked for us in nearby Dearborn around 3pm this afternoon (the soonest we could check in), and from there we Uber'd downtown to grab some food. I'll narrate the day alongside the following pics and video, but long story short we had a bad-ass evening, even if we did kinda screw up straight out of the gate.

Check it out. . .

Walking into the hotel to check in to our room.

This room was huge, and only cost about $50 per person.

I volunteered to sleep on this pull-out couch, which wasn't too uncomfortable later on in the night, but the lack of extra blankets and an over-zealous air conditioner meant I basically froze to death throughout the night.

The bathroom, which was pretty decent.

Three crusty, old punks.

Awaiting our Uber ride outside the hotel.

Coming into downtown.

We were dropped off right across the street from Saint Andrew's, where, a few years ago, BP and I got to see The Bouncing Souls on a previous Detroit punk field trip.

I had kinda had a late lunch, so I wasn't up for eating just yet, but BP and Kimmel were both pretty hungry. Apparently this is the same bar that BP and I had a few beers at before heading into the aforementioned Souls show five years ago, but I didn't remember it.

Refueling before the show.

Comerica Park was only a few blocks away, so after finishing dinner and our beers, we began our trek through downtown Detroit. . .

Kimmel checks his phone. . . for some reason.

When we were about a block away from Comerica Park, we checked the time and it was only like 5pm. According to our tickets, the doors opened at 5:30pm. . . or so we thought.

Enjoying some pints at a local brewery - one of my favorite past times.

Gotta wear a punk rock shirt when going to a punk rock show.

Little did we know that the 5:30pm start time wasn't advertising the doors opening time - like usual on tickets - but instead, oddly, when the opening bands would start to perform. This is almost unheard of, so clearly we weren't worried about missing any of the opening acts when we popped into the brewery. Besides, there was another band opening up before Rancid, so we assumed we'd be getting to the show fairly early anyway.

Oblivious to our dumbassary at this point.

There were crowds and crowds of people still filing into the baseball stadium at this point. So many, in fact, that we thought we had arrived too early.

Home of the Detroit Tigers.

BP and I opted not to drink at the concert - $15 for a 16 oz beer is a rip-off, plus we didn't want to have to get up and piss every half hour - but Kimmel bought several.

Heading up to our seats. Which, like I said, were pretty awesome.

So at first glance they look like nosebleed seats, but we're actually in the second or third section, and our vantage point was just about perfect for viewing the stage (set up over home plate, kinda.)

Can't complain with this view (this is 0.5x, so it's zoomed out a bit in order to fit everything - the stage appeared much larger in person.)

One of the coolest things about these seats was we had a concrete wall directly behind us, so we could rest our heads against it, and nobody was sitting and talking directly behind us - made for a very comfortable evening.

So when the first band took the stage, we were a little confused. Billy Corgan, lead singer for The Smashing Pumpkins, was on stage singing. At first we figured maybe he was performing with the opening act - The Linda Linda Lindas - for some reason. Giving them a leg up or what-have-you. As the set carried on, and they began to play more familiar, radio-circulated Pumpkins songs from our high school days, we realized - in horror - that we had missed Rancid's set. We were super bummed, but more confused than anything else. Half the stands were still empty when the Pumpkins were going on, it was almost like the promoter's bumped everything up an hour and didn't tell anyone. Later in the evening, I'd check Youtube and see Rancid's tiny half-hour set and was actually relieved we missed them: I've seen Rancid many, many times, and they've always been the headliner and put on a great show, but the video I saw of them opening up to a nearly-empty stadium and only playing for 29 minutes. . . they were just phoning it in, it wasn't very good. Oh well, we'll get 'em next time, I suppose.

Despite missing our favorite band, morale was still high - Green Day was supposed to play for nearly three hours, it was going to be well worth the money we spent.

I don't mind The Smashing Pumpkins - their songs always appear on my curated '90s playlists - but they're not one of my favorite '90s bands. Mainly because Billy Corgan is a giant douchebag who's arguably the most narcissistic person in rock music.

. . . and is voice is the stuff of nightmares.

Most of these videos and pictures are mine, but some are Kimmel's or BP's (and a couple of the later pics are screenshot off of Instagram from other folks' accounts who were there in the audience.)

There was about a half an hour between the Pumpkins and Green Day, so we hit up the bathroom, Kimmel and BP grabbed some more food, and we settled in for a few hours of nostalgia.

Before Green Day came on, they blasted Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody' over the P.A. system, most likely to hype up the crowd.

I gotta say, watching thousands of people singing together is a surreal - but inspiring - thing to see. There just may be hope for humanity yet. . .

Never thought I'd see these guys live, they were never one of my 'must see' bands (though I've been a fan for thirty years.) Even if they were, I doubted I'd have been able to afford ever seeing them (some mainstream acts cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars per seat.) For this tour, Green Day was playing their two biggest albums - 1994's Dookie and 2004's American Idiot - in their entirety, plus additional songs. I would have paid $110 just to hear them play Dookie alone, so this was one hell of a deal.

Billy Joe Armstrong, while controversial, is a phenomenal front man.

Halfway through their song 'Longview,' Green Day paused playing so the audience could sing the lyrics. They had done this off and on throughout the first half of Dookie, so this wasn't out of the ordinary. At the time, no one seemed to notice Armstrong and the others suddenly run off the stage, or, if they did, they weren't alarmed by it. But as the audience continued singing, it began to seem like the band was waiting a little too long to kick back into the song. Then the audience stopped singing, and the band didn't return. Then this cryptic message appeared on the screens. . .

All in all, they were off the stage for about ten minutes, during which time the band was shuttled to safety in awaiting golf karts until the 'threat' (a.k.a. the dumbass flying a drone in the stadium) was neutralized. Then they came back out, started 'Longview' over from scratch, and continued on playing through Dookie. Definitely a weird hiccup in the night's performance, but still - kinda cool as far as stories go.

I'm a huge fan of Green Day's first three albums (and, to a lesser extent, their fourth), but after 2001 I'm not fond of their work. I was stoked to see their early material, and would have been more than content in leaving once they were done playing their early, snotty punk stuff.

Their stage setup - lighting, effects, video FX, props, pyrotechnics, etc. - was on point, all evening.

This giant plane (with the dog piloting it, of course), 'flew' around the stadium slowly during one of their songs (it was suspended by a cable of some sort.)

If the plane looks familiar, it's because it's identical to the one that dropped the giant 'dookie bomb' on the 1994 album cover.

(These other vantage points I stole from other peoples' Instagram accounts - you're welcome.)

Later on in the evening, as they played their more rock-ballad sorta crap (which, like I said before, is not my favorite), there was a lot of stuff like this going on. . .

BP was practically falling asleep towards the end of the night.

Crap falling from the sky (confetti or bubbles or some shit, I don't know.)

We had to convince Jon to leave early, because he wanted to stay and watch everything, but BP and I were adamant about peace-ing out a few songs in advance in order to beat the mad rush out of the stadium. We prevailed, and we were able to beat the crowds (and, as a result, we missed 'Good Riddance (Time of Your Life),' which we were more than cool with.)

We were able to backtrack to the brewery we had found earlier, who was closing up in an hour, but was able to sit us at a table and give us a few beers before doing so. From our table, which was directly in front of the bar's front window, we were able to see crowds of people pour into the streets once the show finally ended. We were soooo grateful we had left early.

Kimmel gets us an Uber for the way back to Dearborn (which was pretty painless.)

We were all exhausted at the end of the night, but Kimmel and I had a nightcap of whiskey before we turned in for the night. A fitting end to yet another successful punk rock outing with these two fellow old-timers. Until next time - See ya in the Pit. . . 

- Brian