2:59

I. …And I’m just the devil with a lung to spare, so…

Punknews sent a team of oddly shaped characters to Las Vegas to see how poorly we could do in BYO Records‘ annual Punk Rock Bowling tournament. Stories could be told about the happenings of the weekend and the people we got to hang out with, but I’m not one to rock and tell. Curiously I’m the biggest drinker of the `Org staffers, which is strange since that’s not something I can usually lay claim to in social groups. I suppose that says more about them than it does about me though.

Using this wonderful Internet of ours you can see a few sets of pictures taken by Scott and myself. Of course, I didn’t take the pictures I was in, and credit for those goes out to Tsunami Bomb manager Andie. We didn’t take many photos of the “celebrity” element because it was far more of a peer-situation than a reporter-subject relationship, and quite frankly I value a good conversation and a handshake more than looking like a fanboy.

[Scott's photos] [Adam's photos]

II. Doctor, oh doctor, I’m begging you please…

Here’s something I observed among the folks commenting under a recent review. The band and review in particular don’t really matter. For their part the band released a fairly uninteresting album that’s notable only because the frontman’s past acts were fairly popular with some segment of the kids (I had never heard anything from him before, but I digress…). So the prevailing opinion among the people discussing the review is that the record is completely unremarkable and fairly mainstream, yet due to the frontman’s years in the “DIY community” the band deserves whatever success this gets them.

Not to insult this band any more than I have, but that attitude is completely and utterly moronic. It essentially says that the actual quality of the music is far less important then “paying your dues.” Thus a boring major label band gets a free pass by the ever fickle punk kids while a good major label band that happens to hit it big on their first record will inevitably be dragged out into the scene and shot (or worse, ignored).

I’m not one to get into a big argument about indie politics, but the very second that we decide that anything, especially “cred”, is more important than the music then we’ve seriously botched our priorities.

III: Then the sheriff said boy I gonna watch you die…

I tend to waste time on inane projects at those moments when I’ve the got a busy workload of “legitimate” things to do. While discussing how indifferent two ska kids felt while everyone else wept about broken up emo bands, Justin and I decided that the soundtracks of our respective wasted evenings should be chronicled for posterity. Without further ado then, I present to you the “March 10th Hour of Relative Power:”