Pat Todd & the Rankoutsiders Re-Tap the Source with “14th & Nowhere…”

Working retail, many years ago in a Mid-Atlantic mall, a 1980s super-sized holdover with the glass escalators, strange-item kiosks, and newly employed 19 year olds, like me, consisted of mingling and entangling with other sleepwalking retail slackers. We lived to party every night in preparation of the acceptable 3-hour nap before the morning shift. Actually, it was 3 hours of doze before the afternoon shift as well. Driving my 1983 Chevette that I paid $400 for while living in my $330 a month apartment was good enough. I never slept in my bedroom, with its fake-wood panel walls and free illumination courtesy of the traffic light right outside my cracked windows.

I was convinced the bedroom was haunted. Instead, I entertained, fucked up, fucked off, and slept on the living room’s futon next to the kitchen I never paid much attention to. As I think about it, I can taste the discounted female fragrance, loud swill, low-grade drugs, and residue of even cheaper relationships. I had a scattered ritual of playing the Lazy Cowgirls on my boom box in the backseat of the Chevette because the car tape player never worked. “Tapping the Source” was on side A and its classic anthem “Goddamn Bottle” propelled body and mind to retail life-wasteland on most days. “Dancin’ To a Pack of Lies” on “14th & Nowhere…” shocked these memories to life as I blasted Pat Todd’s newest CD.

Pat Todd of Lazy Cowgirls fame has re-emerged with his backing band, the Rankoutsiders, to provide 2013 with a cool push and pull between punk n roll aggression and Exile on Main Street introspection (consider “Rocks Off” and “Sweet Virginia”). The renowned songwriter and his never-ending one-two punches of rock n roll song always offer something new while keeping the Cowgirls tradition alive. Todd continuously impresses in the live experience with his distinct throaty delivery that actually hits all the high and low notes. The latest album really takes the melodies into Punk Rockin’ Honky Tonk territory with dynamic choruses, flowing verses and liquored up guitars for moral support.

The warm-analog sounding production provides the perfect canvas for a seasoned band that delivers the rock n roll in timeless and well-versed styles. 15 songs are on this collection, so cruise around or drink to the Los Angelian scorched grooves while basking in the glow of past defeats and future dilemmas. I should’ve included “triumphs” in the last sentence, but triumphing wouldn’t be too rock n roll now would it? In the case of Pat Todd and his Rankoutsiders and Lazy Cowgirls, this is as close as you get to triumphing in the world of rock n roll without going insane or writing bullshit that no one wants to hear. This deserves repeated listens and Pat’s discography is well worth looking into. While you’re at it, support your local independent record store and buy some Cowgirls vinyl while picking up this CD. Until next time…

-Kevin McGovern, Fear & Loathing in Long Beach


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(Into the Deep End) with Idol Lips Interview

July continues to hum in a somewhat slow ending here in the city of Long Beach after I had the excellent eye-opening experience of a precision stingray bite (2 to be exact) in the ocean I love so much. I was going out further than normal, the addictive undertow and cool flow distracted me while I was trailing off into deep thought. I had an image in my mind that if were to end my stay in this dimension I would just swim until I couldn’t anymore and let the unpredictable sultry sea consume me in all of its violent glory. At that moment, I felt this piercing sensation in my body and felt a shock that was oddly tantalizing and terrifying at the same time. I floated for a few moments and adrenaline sent me back beachside, unsure of how much blood was escaping from my body. Fortunately, it was just extremely painful; I was able to crawl to a nearby urgent care for the prerequisite morphine double shot and life reflection. How cliché is that? Anyway, I always thought life was a series of chapters in progress and now my senses hint it’s a blank page ready to be written on in a beautiful and violent universe of circumstance and fateful DNA that reside in random creations and destructions.

After I arrived back home, I enjoyed the brain numbness and threw this awesome vinyl LP on the turntable. Italy’s Idol Lips have been a mainstay on my listening rotation since I was introduced to these reckless rock n rollers about a year ago. I highly suggest checking out their punk trash-rock magnum opus entitled "Scene Repulisti". The punchy production highlights the hot-blooded 70’s NYC art damaged rock n roll these loose cannons use as a catalyst to shred current alternative rock in 2013. I had a cool virtual barstool conversation with the band a few months back and decided to run the interview here, so let’s get the eviction party started!

With the release of the punk mayhem masterpiece “Scene Repulisti”, what has the reaction of the international punk rock community been?

Wow Kevin!!!! First of all thanx for “punk masterpiece” but the truth is that we only play loser rock n roll. You must have been in the studio when we recorded Scene Repulisti. Every session is more like a party with all our friends who came and go with all their talks, bullshit, drinks, dance, and curses. We can call it a low budget suicide instead of a well-studied plan to conquer the world. So now, having all the good reviews and feedback has us going out of our heads.

This smoking vinyl kicks ass with the classic anthems such as “Soul Power”, “Down by LUV”, and “Desperate”! What influenced these songs in your personal experiences?

We’re a band who live, breathe, eat and play r’n’r and we put our heart and soul in our songs. We don’t know other ways to do it.
Anybody ever fallen in love with the wrong woman? Ever been in a fight? Ever go out and party like there is no tomorrow? Ever had a good or bad day? Our songs have to do with all that kind of stuff. We only play r’n’r for kids to dance.

Is punk rock dead and who are your favorite artists in 2013??

Mmhh… if punk is dead we’re still celebrating the longest funeral party ever…2013? The world doesn’t end?? We are raising money to fix up our time machine and go back to 1977.

Is there a new record in the works?

Well, there’s something new we’re workin’ on and we confess it’s sounds pretty good but at the moment we gotta wait for more songs to put out a new work.

The guitar riffing and sleazy grooves are incredible, how big of an influence was L.A.M.F and the New York 70’s punk scene?

Ok, we got it!! That’s just the kind of words we love hear. Our riffs and sounds maybe remind a little bit of LAMF? That’s all for us… we don’t wanna do anything new or improved. We only wanna play the old loud out of fashion PUNK ROCK and you can write it in capital letters.

Will there be an international tour and how do you feel about coming to the United States?

Nothing is planned for the next future but sure we’d love to play everywhere and anywhere.
We’d be fools to not come to the States so if someone could help us don’t be shy and write us. We’ll come running!!!

Do you prefer Italian women or California girls? (standard superficial question)

All the girls we like have a common thing, they breathe.

What motivates you to do music and play live?

It’s really hard to try to explain. We can tell you it’s a primitive urge, it’s emergency, it’s danger, it’s next to the end. It’s like “ok I gotta go now”.

Is the Italian punk rock scene a cool one? Would I have good time in Italy with the punk rockers?

Lots of cool people and lots of cool bands make a cool scene. Don’t worry, take a break and spend a cheap holiday in other people’s misery you’ll have a lot of fun!!!

CHECH OUT THE IDOL LIPS ON FACEBOOK

We're getting ready for the August issue around here, lots of new stylings coming your way with some very cool interviews and features

BOOKMARK us at F&L LB, and thanks to the Idols Lips and Sergio at White Zoo Records

Versailles: Bittersweet new wave vengeance

Imagine the Breakfast Club, without Ally Sheedy receiving her superficial makeover, which is done to expose her true “self”. But instead, her survival skills of compulsive lying and darker than black exterior are the true meaning of self-expression, which we should all abide by in order to endure generalizations and stereotypes given to us by the jealous and misinformed masses. The masses that use a collective brain known as cable television will not win this round. The new release “Targets” by Versailles of Los Angeles makes the reality of a darker sinister Breakfast Club soundtrack come to life in its street-educated Hollywood blood soaked sincerity.

Versailles, also known as Dianna St. Hilaire, is a street-smart young woman with the sultry sophistication of a tortured musician in her prime. While the source of torment or anger appears in these tracks as an introspective reflection on relationships and the bizarreness that accompanies them. We move from one-step to the next on the escalator of time and romantic destruction. I’ve had a few conversations with Versailles and she’s just as sincere, complex, and sharp as this collection of songs, which are hook-laden with melodic synth pop simplicity and the concise new wave edge of such legendary bands as ‘Til Tuesday and Missing Persons. The vocals definitely contain echoes of Grimes and early Aimee Mann, dreamscapes in a way, which the gothic dance pop almost demands in order to reel the listener into the underlying poetry of songs like “Disappointed”, “I’m Excited”, and “Happy Tear Drops”.

Kim Fowley, who first introduced me to Versailles, in an interview I did about a year ago, produces on these tracks with a keen subtlety that brings hooks to the forefront and a delicate arrangement of background layers to enhance an atmosphere of L.A. hotel rooftop parties with a D.J. in the know. In the midst of unpredictable breezes, cool retro synth and tambourine thrust the songs to a new genre of sophisticated dance rock that drenches itself in classic power pop. The opening track “Toxic Cougar” rocks the lid off this can of designer-drug serum, containing a combination of dreamy dance rock, aggressive ballads, and sporadic dives into new wave power pop bliss. So girls, paint your nails black, it’s sexy, leave your hair unwashed for a few days and come out and play with the outcast boys and reverse the misery of high school misfortune with the sweet sting of Versailles and her latest offering of “Targets”.

Visit Versailles here

Videos of Versailles from Targets and her appearance in an interview I did, she’s quite good in person



Kevin McGovern- Fear & Loathing in Long Beach Online (Click here to visit us) new issue in the works

Hickoids / Grannies Split LP: Unmedicate yourself, if you want to

What are you going to do, kill me? I’ve tried at least 60 times and keep waking up. I started my morning with the new Hickoids/Grannies long-playing vinyl. Opaque red vinyl to be exact, I love any variation of red vinyl, kind of like the aural equivalent of a classical, drug addled Italian actress that keeps your eyes glued in a perpetual frenzy. This actress pulls no punches with a landslide of piercing punk rock illness. So get unmedicated and let’s start on this scandalous punker than rock rendezvous.

The Hickoids kick off this rock n roll funeral with “TJ”, a ruckus of guitar swill and legendary vocalist Jeff Smith’s unique blend of sophisticated dementia and melody. “Fruit Fly” has the prerequisite second track coolness with its burning combination of Dead Boys meets Motown R&B genetic makeup. “Stop It You’re Killing Me” is my anthem for the week and smashes distortion barriers with concise dynamics amidst the mayhem of Frankenstein-style New York Dolls, personally my fave track on this first side. The Jeff Smith penned “Workingman’s Friend” brings in a nice close before intermission with a badass slow blues punker reminiscent of the legendary Poison 13. Hey, these Texans must have some pure poison in the water supply that keeps legendary bands reproducing throughout the decades. The Hickoids are better than ever and devour these four songs like a starving junkie with a fresh refill rooting through the dumpster in death wish euphoria.

The cross dressing Grannies begin the last half of this rock-punk earthquake with the Nervous Eaters classic “Just Head”! Fuck yeah, anyone covering “Just Head” has my attention and they knock out the transmission of their “fuck punk” aesthetic with another punk cover bashing of Slaughter and The Dogs “Cranked up Really High”! Another, fuck yeah, for the fuck punks known as the Grannies. Their 7 tracks of Killed by Death/live fast die young style throws me back to the glory days of 1990’s van touring with giant bottles of Ephedrine and endless cases of Schaefer Beer.

A raspy vocal with garage rock gusto combined with an unapologetic double guitar attack kicks up the dirt and gives the deepest inhale of the purest smog you’ll ever taste. Hey wait, the Grannies are from San Francisco, finally the water supply is completely contaminated for California, that’s a good thing. If you don’t believe me, here’s two tracks from the album with corresponding info to get ahold of these purveyors of rock n’ roll indecency.

New issue in the works for late August

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-Kevin McGovern, Fear and Loathing in Long Beach

Piñata Protest: Revolution now, free beer

Lately everything in this country is just a fucking drag, I mean seriously boring and uninteresting. Our lives are on pause in the public realm while every over privileged idiot gets sickening amounts of airtime and exposure. Fuck that, let’s create our own culture and kick these jokers out of the party. Who invited those squares anyway? Forget about the other wanna-be punk innovators, Piñata Protest innovates a precise weapon of massive destruction because these guys aren’t aiming to innovate, instead they just kill from the heart, like the legendary Big Boys and Dicks used to do. Lyrics that view the world in a cynical, politically aware blood vision will grab your attention with the promise of a non-stop riot with free beer. Just listen to the blistering kick in the face, “Que Pedo”.

I’ve been having the most lackluster June so far and this time bomb arrived in the mail and kicked my ass across the U.S.A. No surprise, it’s a Tex-Mex punk rock assault courtesy of south Texas and its secret hidden weapon, Piñata Protest. The album starts out with a dark-wave drenched spoken word followed by the shotgun count off and very cool “Vato Perron”, with the introduction of the band’s sharp guitar, punk drum assault with of all things, an accordion. Menacing sounds swirl around while you keep blacking out, with the girl of your dreams at this end-of- the- world party. The sinister razor edged accordion melds perfectly with an eclectic reinterpretation of the Circle Jerks and Chicano roots music through pure punk insanity and volume.

The “El Valiente” disc comes courtesy of your dealer friends at Saustex Media. Every single song on this AK-47(weed reference unintentional) of a disc is beyond catchy and flows through your veins like a nice cold Jack and Coke on a 99-degree day. Goes down without a hitch and knocks you into the next level with that feeling of invincibility and craving for extreme mayhem. The songwriting blows away their contemporaries with well-crafted simplicity that takes into account the structures of classic rock/pop while letting enough room for the Sex Pistols to step on every rule of songwriting.

My personal favorites that should be in the Top Ten and are a must listen include “Guadalupe”, “Life on the Border”, and contagious “El Valiente”. Don’t be a square and take advantage of the energy and pure attitude of this seriously awesome band.

Kevin McGovern – Fear and Loathing in Long Beach NEW ISSUE

Piñata Protest

"La Cucaracha" - Official Music Video - Piñata Protest from Piñata Protest on Vimeo.

SUMMER EDITION ONLINE NOW

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Enter the Hecatomb & Hear Our 1st Podcast!

Enter the world of J.G Redfern’s Hecatomb, a novel that I have been reading and re-reading over the past couple of weeks. A certain appeal about writing for me is the ability to sink into a book with any order of chapters that I choose, and this collection of 100, yes 100 chapters, provide a beautiful and demonic barrage of “buried memory” ignition for the reader. With jarring cerebral cortex vignettes of human behavior past, present, and future, suspicious actions and reactions take place in surreal slaughterhouses, mortuaries, seedy bar bantering, cheap religious devotion, and blissful character confusion. 221 pages of easily digestible eavesdropping on the corners and getaways we inhabit.

The novel conjures up a Venn diagram of my own life: checking out girls while failing Latin in Junior High, driving back roads aimlessly(with bottle in tow) as a teenager, and crashing into re-enforced glass as an adult trying to establish maintain romantic relationships while continually investing in my own seediness. In looking at the definition of Hecatomb and reading the blood soaked scripture, my own life has had a severe sacrificing of victims in order to appease the sleazy compulsions that keep me alive.

The dreaded feeling of slaving to the bar for a 6 a.m. opening to avoid the shakes and bad recollections of the night before while having profound conversations with the morning comers is captured perfectly in the atmosphere of self-deconstruction and violent flirtations with reality and the unreality.

Redfern’s writing style is gritty commentary and surrealism in a powder keg that pours easily like a box of cheap wine. This red wine is of the highest caliber and always maintains a relationship between the author and reader while allowing free thought to formulate the ideas and societal study of the novel. J.G. has been in correspondence quite regularly with me and is one of the super talented authors I have come across in the exploding world of digital publishing.

Let yourself go and pick up the book here

I will leave you with an excerpt from this modern toxic masterpiece- Kevin McG, Fear & Loathing, LB

51. Garage


She carried it into the garage along with a twelve-dollar bottle of wine and a six-dollar bag of double cheeseburgers. The dogs weren’t yapping and joyous around her feet as they usually were when she brought home meat. There were four of them: three dogs and the lady with the wine, the hose and the bag of meat. She double-locked the door behind her and stood there looking down on her best and only friends. They were all sitting up at attention and looking at her with raised canine eyebrows, heads cocked to one side, whimpering quietly. She stayed there for a lingering moment, looking down at them, her eyes heavy with the world and welling up.

“Are my babies hungry?” she asked as she always did.

Her dogs lamented a bit, trying to persuade her with quiet monosyllabic cooing and barely-audible howls, trying to convince her that everything was all right, but even they knew different.
“Yeah,” she sighed, “figures. You love me when you want something, you no good bitches.”

The dogs grew silent and stopped any vocalizations, dropping their heads downward, but continuing to look up. Then the youngest among the pack broke ranks, scampered up to her heels and began whining out a howling whimper.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my babies,” she said sincerely as she began unwrapping burgers and feeding her friends. Each got a sandwich and a rub on the top of the head and around the ears according to rank. As the three dogs worked their burgers, she set the bag on top of the dashboard and retrieved a roll of duct tape from a shelf above the washer and dryer. She slipped one end of a hose into the tailpipe and taped around the gaps. The other end, she routed into the cab. She rolled up the window, taping in crudely around the voids. She uncorked the wine and took a long drink. She sat down behind the wheel, closed her door, and opened the passenger door, saying happily, “Go for a ride? Go for a ride?”

The dogs scampered into the car, and she pulled the passenger door closed behind them. She gave them each another burger and started the engine. She drank the wine, and they ate the double cheeseburgers, and then, they all went to sleep.