There’s been a recent shift in the British musical order that’s let in a new pack of first-rate yobbish garage punks – bands like the Suburban Homes, City Yelps, and my new punk rock favorite by a mile, The Worms.

These London bombers have a blink-&-miss tape full of raw stuttering riffs, big angry sneers and growls and a shard-heavy approach to the guitar that’s both minimal and damaging. The faster numbers wouldn’t be out of place on a mid-90s Registrators or Teengenerate Japan-punk album (and are better than both); the more deliberate ones are way more in the snarling and oafish spirit of ’77.

I don’t quite see them as “boot boys”, but they’ve crafted some intelligent hooliganism that’s way, way too good to just be on a tape.


I made a compilation for you over on 8Tracks called Authority Complex: Dynamite Hemorrhage’s Best of 2015 by DynamiteHemorrhage.

It stays in the vein that the podcast has mostly mined: raw, sub-underground rock music of a lo-fidelity or otherwise challenged bent. 18 tracks, all available to stream right now over here.

Track listing:

THE COOLIES – Scorpio 10
HONEY RADAR – Niacin Man
CCTV – Paranoia
LITHICS – Lizard
RAW PONY – Bo Diddley
RAYS – Model or You?
MANSION – Fleshed Out
CALAMARI GIRLS – All The Celbrities
BENT – Skeleton Man
LIME CRUSH – Graveyard
URANIUM CLUB – The Collector
ERASE ERRATA – History of Handclaps
PSYCHIC SOVIETS – Authority Complex
POLIO CLUB – Light as a Feather
PARKAY QUARTS – Pretty Machines


There’s a “Fab Mab” group over on Facebook devoted to the glory days of San Francisco punk rock and, specifically, The Mabuhay Gardens club on Broadway.

Here are two flyers folks posted over there, showing the breadth and weirdness of the day. Roy Loney and the Phantom Movers (ex-Flamin’ Groovies) with opener Black Flag (!!?!). One can only imagine.

Then there’s these back-to-back bills at the American Indian Center at 14th and Valencia, where I believe an artisanal french toast restaurant now stands (no joke). One night it’s the Circle Jerks; the next night it’s Canned Heat. The hippies hadn’t shuffled off San Francisco’s mortal coil just yet to make way for the punx, and it looks like venues were trying their best to turn a buck or two from both camps.


I bought my first-ever copy of SLASH magazine last week – it’s the one I posted a few scans from already, and the one you see pictured here, from early 1980.

I thought the magazine was going to be compiled in a book one day by some enterprising young moneymaker – lord knows they’d get a few buyers. Erudite, opinionated and on the scene of Los Angeles punk rock ‘77-’80 as it was happening, it’s a huge cut above most other fanzines of its day or any other. I got to read my punker cousin’s copies a couple of decades ago, and figured I’d wait for that book to finally get made, just like the two books of SEARCH & DESTROY fanzines were – which was the (inferior) San Francisco counterpart to SLASH.

Eventually I started bidding for copies of Slash on eBay, without winning, and eventually found other routes to procuring this copy – with five more on the way soon. If I can get over my nervousness about creasing, spindling, folding and mutilating the magazine, look forward to more scans from these magazines here in the near future.


The latest SAVAGE DAMAGE DIGEST, published out of the San Francisco Bay Area by one Cory Linstrum, has just been read cover to cover in our offices (actually on a plane from Oslo to San Francisco yesterday).

Terrific work by a true music obsessive. The cover story’s a deep dive into ‘77-’78, gear, the SF & LA punk scenes and more with guitarist Greg Ingraham from The Avengers. If I had a massive, unchecked ego, I’d tell you that it’s an excellent complement to our own interview with Chris D. of the Flesh Eaters that graces the cover of Dynamite Hemorrhage #1.

SAVAGE DAMAGE also has a probe into the career of Larry Wallis (Pink Fairies, Deviants etc.); a brief and fairly unrevealing piece w/ one of the McDonalds from Redd Kross; stuff on The Speedies and The Mechanics and a few others things I’ll admit I’m not too familiar with. And that’s good, for the mark of a great ‘zine is true navel-gazing obsessive-compulsive mania toward weird and ignored music. Kudos to Cory and the whole SDD team.


The first and only time I saw THE SPITS was in 2003 in Seattle, having never heard nor heard of the band before this time. I wrote them up (and partially defamed and mocked them in the process) on my old blog Agony Shorthand, and was absolutely delighted when one of the band members got into a pissing contest with me in the comments section. So fun. Alas, those comments disappeared years ago.

Just so happens I glommed onto the band in the intervening years, truly discovering that they were an active punk rock powerhouse in 2012, when I wrote up this review on my other (still active) blog The Hedonist Jive.

Last night, I saw ‘em play for the second time at The Rickshaw Stop in San Francisco, from whence this 11-second video originated. Total blast. I threw all intelligence to the wind, dropped my knuckles to the floor and let it rip. I didn’t stagedive nor get into any fistfights, though others did, and why the hell not. Excellent ripsnorting 60-second robot punk, one right after the other, and worth almost every second of opening-band suffering/bleeding I had to endure to get to them.