Remember when skateboarding was punk?

I'm old and out of touch, but it seems like skateboarding isn't nearly as punk as it used to be. Too many pads, helmets, and $60 t-shirts. That sort of shit is the anti-fun in my opinion.

This is a clip from Streets On Fire featuring Sonic Youth, Bl'ast, and Descendents. It really doesn't get much more punk than that.

This is kind of a cheap post because I overslept today and had birthday shenanigans. Happy fucking summer, bitches.

The Healing Power of Punk Rock: Santa Rosa's Siren Reunites To Fight Cancer

I moved to San Francisco in 2005 after spending a few years being a tour lackey for a couple of different metal hardcore bands. My first (and only) job in the "City by the Bay" was working in the bakery of one of "America's Largest Natural Food Store" (I am leaving out the name of this company, but it shouldn't take a genius to figure out who my employer was). For the first three months of my five year sentence at that company, I was an average, run of the mill treat bitch. I boxed cakes, baked bread, and took a lot of shit from uppity Pacific Heights residents who couldn't handle the fact that the strawberry chiffon cake was made with conventional, not organic, strawberries (like I had any fucking say in what went into our cakes at that point in my grocery store career). One day while stacking cookies, stocking cake slices, or some other mind-numbing, menial task, I noticed three heavily tattooed gentlemen shopping for what appeared to be lunches they were taking back to their office. They approached the bakery counter and began to eyeball the vegan cookies. I offered to help them, and as I handed one of them their vegan treat, my white chef's coat sleeve rode up, exposing my Jawbreaker "I Kissed The Bottle" tattoo on my right forearm.

"That's a pretty awesome tattoo, but its not quite as cool as this guys," said the shortest of three sleeved up dudes as he pointed to the tallest of the group, sporting a beard and an obvious resemblance to the speaker. The tall, bearded guy pulled up his pant leg, exposing a tattoo of two rabbits with "Jinx Removing" underneath them in a banner.

"Whoa...that's fucking awesome," I uttered, feeling somewhat like a dumb fanboy and cursing myself internally for saying something that seemed so teenage girl-esque and void of intelligence.

And that was how I met Kevin McCracken.

Kevin was the shorter, bespectacled gentlemen who noticed my tattoo, while his younger brother, Kerry, actually had the Jawbreaker tattoo that bested mine. As months went by, Kevin and I would chat about punk and indie rock whenever he would come into the store for groceries, and soon enough we began running into each other at shows around town. Eventually, Kevin asked me to play guitar for the band he drums for called Aim Low Kid, a dynamic indie rock outfit not unlike Modest Mouse or Built To Spill (I eventually proved to be a little too "extreme" for the band, and bowed out of my guitarist position after a few months). During my time in the band, Kevin and I grew to be great friends. I became friends with his wife, Nicole, as well as his parents Tom and Maureen. In more recent times, Kevin's non-profit screen-printing company, Social Imprints would hire me on as a merch dude for the Noise Pop Festival in San Francisco, and because of our friendship, I am lucky enough to know his adorable infant daughter, Kaitlin.

In 2010, Kevin's wife Nicole was diagnosed with breast cancer. Breast Cancer that needed chemotherapy and surgeries to treat. I was devastated by the news. Not that I think anyone deserves to get cancer more than anyone else, but Nicole, a vegan yoga instructor who treats her body and health better than I've treated any possession I've ever had in my life getting breast cancer? What kind of fucked up world do we live in? Kevin, being the stand-up, motivated individual he is, instantly shifted his intense focus and uncanny ability to make things happen/get shit done onto his wife's well being. He started a Facebook group to keep friends and family informed of Nicole's progress and well-being. Nicole utilized both traditional medical treatments for cancer, as well as holistic and natural options as well. So far, Nicole has been responding well to treatment, and things appear hopeful.

However, cancer is expensive, both emotionally and monetarily. They, like any family going through a tragedy like this one, need help through this incredibly trying time. Kevin has deep roots in the Bay Area punk scene, most notably as the drummer for Siren, a melodic hardcore band from Santa Rosa who were most active around the Bay in the mid-90s. While they may have never achieved the notoriety of some of their peers like Rancid, Jawbreaker, or AFI, they had the respect of those who were fortunate enough to see them in their heyday, and kept a cult-like following of what are mostly now aging Bay Area punks who may have traded in cut-off dickies for slacks, but kept the spirit and values with them as they matured in life.



I never caught Siren live when they were around (I was merely teenager growing up three hours away from Santa Rosa and two hours away from San Francisco or Berkeley, so getting to every show every weekend proved to be a challenge). Kevin sent me four songs he had digitized that hadn't graced my ears in probably fifteen or so years. I can honestly say that Siren still sound fresh and relevant in 2011. Melodic, driving hardcore never really went out of style, and if anything has had new life breathed into it via bands like Set Your Goals, Title Fight, and Shook Ones. While the newer, younger bands may have touch more ferocity and speed to them, Siren would easily hold their own on a line up with any of those bands, if not outshine them in terms of passion and ability achieved only through maturation and life experience.



In the face of tragedy and hard times, coming together is the first step towards getting through the turbulence. Punk may evolve sonically, socially, and aesthetically every five to ten years, but punks helping each other overcome struggles and challenges has and forever will be one of the most important aspects of this counterculture that continues to thrive even though it has come so far from where it began. The McCracken family needs help. so it was time to get the band back together...



Saturday June 25th, Siren will reunite as part of a benefit show for the McCracken family called Music Heals Nicole at The Phoenix Theater in Petaluma. In addition to Siren, the show will feature sets from The Velvet Teen, Cropduster, , and The 50/50's. There will be a silent auction as raffle prizes all attendees have a shot at winning, and of course, all of the evening's proceeds will be put toward the McCracken Family's fight against Nicole's cancer. Tickets to Music Heals Nicole are $25 each and are well worth it seeing as how you're getting an evening of incredible music, and also because your money is going to help one of the greatest families in the Bay Area battle through an incredibly trying time in their life.

Kevin and Nicole McCracken, along with their daughter Kaitlin, are three of the most special people I've had the privilege of getting to know throughout my 31 years on this planet. Over the years through their careers, friendships, and Kevin's music, they have touched the lives of many people in need, giving hope and a chance to those who thought they had neither. Now they're in need of some extra support, so let's make sure they get all the help that's available to give. If you are in the vicinity of Petaluma, or the Bay Area Saturday night, please make your way to the The Phoenix and take part in Music Heals Nicole. It's not often that bands reunite for worthwhile reasons, especially bands as awesome as Siren. Help a family in need by enjoying an evening of incredible music and extraordinary friendship.

"They Got The Swag And Its Coming Out They Ovaries"

This is Kreayshawn. She is a part of the White Girl Mob, hailing from none other than East Oakland, CA. Her song, "Gucci Gucci", is currently blowing up the airwaves and empowering young women everywhere to say "fuck that fancy shit, the style...the spark...the SWAG is inside of YOU!" As anyone would expect, they have polarized the music-oriented people of the world. To some, she is a flippant middle finger to the stereotypical female role in the current world of hip hop. I mean, when was the last time a tiny white lesbian grabbed the mic and spit a verse more infectious than the common cold? Others view her as everything wrong with hip hop and even pop culture at large, and they just can't hate enough. Regardless of any opinion anyone has, their impact on music in 2011 can't be ignored. I was fortunate enough to have a friend put on a show for them at Som Bar in San Francisco back in May. Obviously, the show sold out in no time flat, but scuzzy, grimey, salty old me breezed right by the line and into the show (in a denim vest with Black Sabbath Vol. 4 backpatch, no less), much to dismay of the white thirty-somethings dressed to the nines in brand new Supreme streetwear. Performance wise, Kreayshawn and her White Girl Mob are still trying to gathering their sea legs as far as being comfortable on stage and commanding a crowd. I'm giving them a bit of a pass seeing as how they haven't played all that many shows, and judging them harshly would be a tad hasty and premature. In reality, how well they held it down onstage didn't matter because the show was allegedly became bidding war between a handful of labels looking to throw down a lot of cash for the chance to put out homegirl's next record (apparently Columbia won). What I witnessed essentially was the last show Kreayshawn was ever going to play in a venue that realistically held one hundred people comfortably at best. I didn't have any sort of "in" to try and lock down an interview with Kreayshawn, so I did the only thing I could do: take pictures. I'm no Ansel Adams or Annie Leibowitz, but I did the best I could with an iPhone. Here are some pics of what will most likely be the last small show Kreayshawn and the White Girl Mob ever play.

















"One big room...full of bad bitches..."

Servile Sect: Black Metal Has Come A Long Way From Mayhem...

Oh black metal. On one hand, it's music so grim, ugly, dark, and powerful that taking it in aurually can almost be seen as a form of meditation or ritual. When paired with the right aesthetics (sonically and visually), and listened or seen live in the right venue, it can really be an outerworldly experience. Even though it has been embraced and created in all parts of the world, black metal's Norwegian roots, be it the haunting landscapes, frigid climate, and a native culture with close ties to the natural and supernatural worlds, are always something that shines through on greatest and truest black metal records. When done right, even corpse paint, wrist gaunlets, and black leather can bring a band's music and performance to an entirely new level. As far as metal in general goes, black metal is one of the rawest forms of expression that exists within the genre at large.

But on the other hand, there's this:



Oh...and this too:



For as raw and unbridled as one side of the black metal spectrum is, it is a genre often misrepresented by corny bands with drama nerd antics and Guitar Center employee-style musical wankery. For as haunting and uncomfortable corpse paint can look, the idiots in the two previous videos make it look fucking hysterical and complete and total bullshit. I don't hear or feel any raw emotion in that. I don't see that as evil. I see a bunch fucking clowns with instruments doing their best "METAL" faces to the camera. I am far from a black metal purist. Shit, I'm probably a "casual" fan at best, but its impossible not to be baffled at that gap of artistic and ideological integrity between both ends of the spectrum of black metal in general.



Enter Servile Sect, a two-piece black metal outfit originating from Phoenix, AZ, but have since moved to Humboldt, CA and New York, NY (probably because it's hot as fucking misery in Arizona, Humboldt has the bomb weed, and some people really, really like New York). Having already released record's on Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth fame's record label, Ecstatic Peace (I know, it doesn't sound very evil to me either), Servile Sect are releasing their third full length release, Trvth on Handmade Birds Records, a label run by R. Loren of Sailors With Wax Wings notoriety (I know, Handmade Birds doesn't sound any more evil that Ecstatic Peace does. Maybe they know something we don't). If you are expecting rehashed mosh parts, corny orchestral synthesizers, and Kiss-esque onstage theatrics, I'm sure there's a Hot Topic not far from where you live. I'm sure there's a wide array of shitty Cradle of Filth merch there (and its probably on sale).

Servile Sect not only thrive at the raw, ugly, and brutal side of black metal, they set a new standard in it.Trvth is forty-nine minutes of twisted, darkened black metal that has just the right amount of machine-like, blackened, ambient noise strewn between some of the most haunting, evil, punishing black metal ever put to tape. In a move I appreciate as a listener, Servile Sect opted to go for decent recording sound instead of putting out an lp that sounds like it was recorded in an aluminum trash can. They blend psychedelic guitar and sound elements, not unlike Nachtmystium's earlier work, but Servile Sect put a much darker, sinsister spin on the non-conventional elements of their black metal assault. Their use of dynamics and ability to deconstruct and rebuild a genre often bogged down in unofficial "rules" and so concerned with "trends" and "being extreme" is testimony to why a musical heavyweight such as Thurston Moore would take interest in putting their records out. In a complicated genre, where finding the cream of the crop is honestly harder than finding a needle in a haystack. Trvth dropped yesterday on Handmade Birds. If you like your black metal well recorded, forward-thinking, and without corny rockstar bullshit, Servile Sect is a must listen to band. Get your kvlt on, bro.

Tankcrimes Continues Legacy of Killer Releases With Tapes by Obsessor and Night Fever

Oakland is a legendary city for punk and hardcore. I could come up with a list of obvious and not so obvious bands, icons, and labels, but where would I even begin. Punk and hardcore in Oakland is much like living in Oakland: if you aren't sharp, hard, aware of your surroundings, and a step ahead of the rest of your neighborhood: you're going to end up a casualty. Voetsek drummer Scotty Heath has been an Oakland resident for a long time, and his record label, Tankcrimes, is a testimony to his keen ear and his ability to find bands and release records that hold their own in a region so rich in great punk and hardcore music.

My former bandmate used to live next door to Heath, and I have peeked into the garage that Tankcrimes is run out of numerous times as we went to and from our own rehearsals. I knew Scotty's label was more than a hobby, but over 2010, Tankcrimes has outgrown Oakland and has began to make quite an impact on punk and hardcore worldwide. Over the past few months, Tankcrimes has put out releases by Annihlation Time, Kicker, Victims, and Cannabis Corpse. Last October, Heath put on the Tankcrimes Brainsqueeze, a two day fest featuring Municipal Waste, Ghoul, Vitamin X, Toxic Holocaust, Ramming Speed, and few other heavy hitters associated with the Tankcrimes label (the DJ at the all day after party at Eli's was the SHIT if I do say so myself...). The garage with a work table and shelves full of records I peered into a handful of times, sometimes staggering between two different friends houses after libations, has definitely taken itself to the next level.

Tankcrimes recently offered up two very different releases on 2011's most popular dead format, cassettes. While both of these releases can easily be played in any car made before the mid 2000s, the bands themselves are definitely in catagories of their own. The first is Obsessor, a one man metal project from Richmond, VA and the second is Night Fever, a dirty hardcore band from Copenhagen, Denmark. Let's dig a little deeper, shall we?



Obsessor offer up two songs of d-beat influenced metal in the same ballpark as Venom or even early Celtic Frost. All of the instruments and vocals were done by Richmond, VA legend Brandon Ferrell, who has done time in Municipal Waste, Government Warning, and Vinyl Conflict Records. What I like most about this two song single is how Ferrell manages to write great metal songs that still have a dirty, raw punk rock feel to them. If the bio didn't mention that Obsessor were a one man band, I never would have known. The songs lack that overly rigid feel that often comes with one man bands (I imagine that rigidness is associated with keeping tempo while recording the different instruments). These two songs are outstanding and with the right hired guns, would make for some ruling circle pits when played live. I look forward to hearing more from this one man metal assault.




I have to be honest. In general, I am wary of European hardcore. I'm not trying to knock an entire continent's contribution to an entire subgenre, but for my taste, many of their so called all-stars fall flat in comparison to their American or Canadian counterparts. Night Fever, however, rule so much than I wish this tape made its way into the stereos of several popular American "hardcore" bands and perhaps breathe some life into a scene saturated in nothing more than bands doing their best rewrites of whatever was hot in the scene ten years ago. Night Fever are what would happen if Slapshot and Motorhead had a kid with an AMAZING sense of humor. The music is fast, angry, and aggressive, yet has a filthy rock n roll feel too it. You could just as easily run off of the stage and headwalk to these guys as you could headbanging furiously while pounding beers in the back of the club, leaving the moshing to the youngins without permanent injuries. Night Fever have all the fun that I feel hardcore (at least in the US) has lost over the last decade. Fun that was replaced with posturing, haircuts, sneaker obsessions, and years gone by that won't ever come back. Night Fever's greatest strength is in the vocal range of frontman Soloman, who can just as easily bark over lightning fast galloping drum beats as well as he can sing like a hybrid of Lemmy and King Diamond. This tape kills. Metalheads, punks, and core kids alike will LOVE Night Fever.

Both tapes are available for order off of the Tankcrimes Website. Close up Facebook and go buy some tapes. 2011 has been a big year for Tankcrimes and its barely half over. Let's see if we can't help Scotty wrap it up with a bang.

Set List From Surprise Happy Hour DJ Set at ACME Bar 6/20/11

Yesterday I decided to spend time working at ACME Bar in Berkeley to change up my scenery. They have wireless, Fernet on tap, and $2 High Lifes. After realizing I didn't want to bury my Sleep review with a far less important story, I got a burrito, and then asked bartender Nicole if I could jump on their decks and play some jams for the duration of her shift. She said "sure" and I got busy making people feel like drinking. I'm working on making this a regular gig, so stay tuned for info on that. Thanks to Nicole and ACME Bar for letting me get loose.

Leaf Hound - Freelance Fiend (see what I did there?)
Neil Young - Cinnamon Girl
Built To Spill - Carry The Zero
Lucero - That Much Further West
Bauhaus - She's In Parties
Vivian Girls - I Heard You Say
The Sword - Lawless Lands
Black Sabbath - Tomorrow's Dream
Fu Manchu - Godzilla
Heart - Crazy On You
Wavves - Take On The World
Sweet Apple - I've Got A Feeling (That Won't Change)
Jets To Brazil - Morning New Disease
Graveyard - Hisingen Blues
The Little Ones - Lovers Who Uncover
Best Coast - Boyfriend
The Exploding Hearts - Sleeping Aides and Razorblades
Go Sailor - Fine Day For Sailing
Morrissey - The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get
Judas Priest - One For The Road
Dead Meadow - Babbling Flower
Minus The Bear - Throwin' Shapes
Pavement - Gold Soundz
13th Floor Elevators - You're Gonna Miss Me
Queens Of The Stone Age - Regular John
The Dead Boys - All This And More
The Murder City Devils - Tokyo Gold
The Dead Weather - Blue Blood Blues
Ghost - Con Clavi Con Dio
Pentagram - When The Screams Come
Mountain - Mississippi Queen
Foghat - Fool For The City
Camera Obscura - French Navy
Pulp - This Is Hardcore
Sonic Youth - Dirty Boots
Gang Of Four - Damaged Goods
Moving Units - Between Us And Them
Oasis - Slide Away
The Stone Roses - I Wanna Be Adored
The Nerves - Hanging On The Telephone
Jawbreaker - Jinx Removing
The Gun Club - Sex Beat
Interpol - Say Hello To The Angels
The Pointed Sticks - What Do I Do Now?
Descendents - Cheer
Screeching Weasel - El Mozote
Black Flag - Nervous Breakdown
Danzig - She Rides
Black Breath - Unholyvirgin
Sleep - Dragonaut
Black Cat Music - Journal Square Train
The Damned Things - We Got A Situation Here
Saviours - We Roam
Metallica - Ride The Lightning
Ozzy Osbourne - Flying High Again
The Sex Pistols - Bodies
Hostage Calm - A Mistrust Earned
Joyce Manor - Constant Headache
Weezer - My Name Is Jonas
Pixies - Monkey Gone To Heaven
Crocodiles - I Wanna Kill
Cold Cave - Pacing Around The Church
Frank Ocean - Nature Feels
Depeche Mode - But Not Tonight
Pulp - Pencil Skirt
The Smiths - Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard This One Before

How Was Your Father's Day? You BBQ'D? Oh that's cool. Me? I SAW SLEEP FUCK UP A DIVE BAR IN WEST OAKLAND!

Everyone has those "once in a lifetime" show stories. The sort of shows that define an entire city's year in live music. The sort of random chances that come together that are on paper a horrible logistic idea, yet because "we look at danger and we laugh our heads off" (thanks Morrissey), they happen anyway. One of those events was tonight. Since it was so epic, I am going to try and tell it as a story. Here goes nothing.

Last night at 2am, after a having a time consuming, yet necessary conversation, I was feeling down and depressed. I was having all sorts of bad thoughts about where my life was going and what my next move was, when I picked up my phone to check my twitter accounts. I got a rather puzzling direct message from an old friend.

"Secret Sleep show at Eli's tomorrow. Confirm or deny?"

Eli's Mile High Club is a notorious West Oakland bar frequented by only the most ragged of humans. I love it because its a bar where friends go to get fucked up. I also have grown to hate because its a bar where friends go to get fucked up. You don't go there to meet random girls or guys to go home with, or to "make the scene". You go there to get wasted. I'm not saying that the clientele are rude, mean, or exclusive, or that if you are a newcomer, you aren't welcome. It's just not for lightweights. Recently, Eli's got their cabaret license and began putting on shows there. Good shows. Over the last few months, Saviours, Jello Biafra, One in the Chamber, Everything Must Go, Fracas, and many other up and coming bands as well as punk legends have graced the Eli's stage. Rikk Agnew, Lecherous Gaze, Alaric, Turbonegra, and Plan 9 all have shows at Eli's in the near future, making for may be the most rocking summer West Mac has seen in quite some time. As far as I've heard, the shows have gone well and the neighborhood (which can be a little rough) has been all right with the amount of foot traffic and noise created by the addition of shows to the usual rowdiness from West Oakland's most infamous watering hole.

Matt Pike, guitarist of Sleep and High On Fire, has been both an Eli's regular and employee over since the latest owners took it over, so the notion of a Matt Pike band playing Eli's wasn't completely unfathomable, and I knew Sleep was preparing for a run of shows in New York, Los Angeles, and Calgary begin this Wednesday and run through the weekend, but I still couldn't believe Sleep, one of the most influential stoner bands of all time, was going to bust out a secret show on a Sunday night at Eli's. So by my dumb perceived reality, and because it was 2AM and I wasn't about to start texting the world about whether or not this show was reality, I went with the easy answer:

"No fucking way. That wouldn't happen."

I woke up a few hours later to do Father's Day breakfast with my family, after which I was pleasantly surprised by a cell phone issue the required a new account. Most of the morning was spent in "radio silence", so I kept thinking that my hypothesis of a secret Sleep show being nothing more than gossip, hearsay, and/or rumor. Upon reupping my iPhone, I received a flurry of texts from my friends that all basically said "DUDE! SLEEP IS PLAYING ELI'S TONIGHT!"

Holy shit, it was really happening.

I texted my friend who hit me up on Twitter last night, letting him know I was incorrect regarding the legitimacy of the surprise show, then wondered whether or not I should go. I have a rather important medical appointment tomorrow. An appointment so critical that my mom was in town to accompany me for moral support and to ask questions I'm too stupid or scared to ask. Perhaps she wanted to see a movie and catch up when she got here? Or did I want to spend a bunch of time at a bar I could have rented a room in at certain points throughout the last four years? Was Eli's going to be a complete and utter nightmare/fire hazard as far as number of attendees was concerned? Legendary secret shows are chock full of awesome potential, however they can turn into logistical disasters at the slightest agitation, and the last thing I needed was to be stuck in a crowded, sweaty bar as some horrible, unexpected incident occurred. I was leaning more towards the "no" side when I got a text from a vegan straight edge friend of mine who was already there and telling me I was an idiot for passing this up. I came to my fucking senses. If my friend who had even less reason to be in a crowded bar could hang, I had no excuse to not go. I jumped in a car and bolted over to Eli's hoping I would still be able to get in.

As I parked the car down the street I noticed a small crowd outside the front door of the bar, but it was five people deep tops. I walked up, saw a few old friends, doled out some high fives and hugs, and was waved in and given a wristband by a friend of mine who happened to be working the door. One of the first people I saw as I made my entrance was the almighty Matt Pike, who gave me a giant bear hug as I walked by him. We shot the shit for a minute, I told him to break a leg, then walked over to my vegan straight edge friend and proceeded to catch up/discuss the awesomeness that was due to take place in mere moments. The lines for the bars were out of hand and I didn't feel much like drinking in the first place, so we headed to the front of the stage and camped out for what was going to undoubtedly be the Bay Area metal show of the summer.

The excitement in the air grew as 8PM approached, and finally the dudes took the stage,. With their backs to the crowd, guitars were tuned, then Pike began to make that familiar, hypnotic, heavy as fuck drone emanate out of two Soldano heads, a Blackstar head, and four Emperor cabs...

"Holy fucking shit, they're starting with "DOPESMOKER!"

I snapped pictures of the band while Pike played the riffs unaccompanied by the rest of the band, raising the tension so much that the only thing hanging in the air thicker than Matt Pike's thunderous guitar tone was an atmosphere of "sweatfog" and weed smoke permeating off the bodies crammed in front of the stage. Eventually, Pike reached that guitar climax, and in dropped the ground shaking bass of Al Cisneros and the crash/bang of Neurosis drummer Jason Roeder and the energy exploded into the room. Heads started banging, fists reached towards the sky, and the entire crowd collectively went "FUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKK" in their heads as they began to rock their bodies in rhythm with the band.

Sleep opened their set with an abridged version of their 52 minute opus, "Dopesmoker", then blasted the crowd for an hour drawing heavily from songs off of Holy Mountain and Volume I. At one point, the heavy was too much for Eli's ancient electrical wiring, causing the circuit breaker to trip mid-song, which lead to a short break in the action as someone scrambled to reset the club's power. In what was by far the music nerd highlight of the night, the band picked back up in the exact spot they left off before the power grid became a victim of their ridiculous riffing.

Seeing Sleep was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I had never seen a crowd based on aesthetics and reputation, appeared to be one of the rowdiest ever assembled in Eli's (much less the world), focus so intently on the epic sounds pulsating from the stage. The sight of two hundred punks, stoners, metalheads, and hipsters enraptured by the wild, yet shamanistic hair whips and headbangs of Pike, Cisneros, and Roeder probably looked far more like an ancient tribal ritual than a heavy metal show in a dive bar. If it didn't look ritualistic, their was undoubtedly feel to the room one could describe as "nearly supernatural". No mosh pits. No spitting. No flying beverages. No heckles. No tough guy attitudes. The entire crowd gazed upon Sleep and reveled in what stood before them. It was more than just a metal show at a dive bar, it was fucking as profound as hearing a prophet delivering a message. These particular prophets were telling the world to smoke weed. Lots of it.

Here are some photos I took:




























Sleep are gearing up for shows this weekend in New York, Los Angeles, and Calgary. If you are lucky enough to have a ticket, get there early and be prepared for so much more than a metal show. If you live in the Bay Area, and you weren't at Eli's tonight, you missed the best show of the summer, and most likely of 2011. Long live Sleep. Proceed the Weedian Nazareth.

For All The Old Hardcore Kids Who Have Real Jobs and Can't Spend Money Constantly on Excessive Vinyl Preorders

I give you this. Thanks Jav. His blog is www.alloverthistown.com. Check it out.



I'm too fucking old to keep spending money on every single colored vinyl release ever.