Dougie - Big In Japan (video)

Mike Larmoyeux (seminally the man in 10 bands at the same time) is still in many bands at the same time. Dougie is one of them, and they have been known to gig around the DC area. Here is a lovely video for you to enjoy:

The Florida Evans Showband and Revue - "Good Times" Music Video

At some point during early 1999, some film major friends approached us about making a music video for "Good Times" as their final project for a film production class. Being the agreeable young men we are, we naturally said yes.

The concept is pretty straightforward -- still photographs edited together to make a comic book style story of a team of super(?)heroes taking down an evil mastermind and her henchpersons. Pretty sure my bits were shot in some production room in the upper levels of O'Shaughnessy Hall, while Matt and Dan shot most of their outdoor bits out on Lincolnway West. The party and live band shots were filmed in the basement of The Hive, also known as the house on Bulla Road where Ron and Matt lived.

Matt remembers being upset that he had to use a weird bass in the live shots and that the party was really fun. He also pointed out that we used stills from the video in the album artwork for our album Made Simple.

If I remember correctly, the "Good Times" video closed out the ND Student Film Festival that year. A number of people recognized me at Lula's the next day, which was fun. Florida Evans was in two student films that year -- the other one featured us playing at a house party during the crawfish boil, though the only thing I remember actually appearing in the final version was Matt biting the head off a crawfish.

Enjoy the video. It's fun, as befits the song. And keep an eye out for Ron throttling a stuffed rabbit.

--Doug

Club 23, R.I.P.

Last week, Club 23 was demolished. If you are a regular reader of this blog, then there's a good chance you spent a lot of time at Club back in the day, and it's also pretty likely that your band played there at some point, too. Lots of great memories from hanging out at this joint, and it's kind of a sad feeling knowing that it's not around anymore.

Rather than trying to eulogize, I'm instead offering a chance to walk around inside Club 23 one last time, and relive for a moment what it was like to hang out there on a typical night almost 20 years ago. The video below was at the front end of a VHS tape of a Cripe Street set at Club 23 (which I'll get to eventually, I suppose) that was sent to me, and it's a pretty great time warp. Witness the flannel shirts, the mom jeans, the white baseball caps... it's amazing. Throw in a couple songs by Brian Muller (of Cripe Street and Brian, Colin, and Vince) and some fella I don't recognize (help?), peppered with requests to play "Spacey Floater," and... well, just see for yourself.

Take me home, Club 23. Take me home.

Transmontane - Live at SXSW 2011

SXSW 2011 ended just over a week ago, and all reports indicate that it was notably chaotic and overblown this year... a gatecrashing near-riot at The Strokes, even more so at Death From Above 1979, the total mess that was Kanye West's show, Ben Weasel's belligerence and punching of two women, hipsters wearing capes (why?), general excessive drunkenness and stupidity... it's understandable why so many of us Austin residents breath a sigh of relief when the whole circus leaves town.

Fortunately, though, there was one show that was worth the trip out for us, being decidedly more relaxed and trouble-free. Former WVFI DJ and enthusiastic SBP90s music fan Ryan Duncan brought his one man band, Transmontane, down to Austin for a lazy Saturday lunchtime performance on a quiet patio on North Guadalupe, well enough away from the folks already waiting in line downtown to see Kanye go on at 2am.



In addition to it just being a real joy to see Ryan again after such a long time, his music was a pleasure to experience as well. Here's a synopsis of the new Transmontane album, Lo Specchio Circolare:

Lo Specchio Circolare translates to "the circular mirror" in Italian, which is quite appropriate as a title for this collection of 12 songs by Transmontane (AKA Ryan Duncan from Chicago), for the lyrics and the mood on this debut record tend to be reflective in nature. The mood here is introspective, but at the same time it points toward certain elements of the soul that are universal. There is definitely a tone of desperation present, but it does not arrive without an underlying vibration of hope as its constant companion. As profound as our desires may be, when salvation seems to be a million miles away, we must always remember, that at the root of our existence is an eternal wellspring of hope, a fundamental love that exists within us and can never be broken.

These simple, honest songs are simply one man’s attempt to reflect this light back out into the world at large. Look into them, and perhaps you might find your own voice.

The first video above is of one of my favorite cuts from the album, "R.W.S." The one just below here is of the non-album song "Genealogy," which Ryan premiered in live form during SXSW. The shaky video footage comes courtesy of the 2-yr-old troublemaker throwing Hot Wheels at my feet while I was recording.



I encourage everyone to check out the Transmontane album, it was the laid-back jam in my headphones all last week. You can stream or buy the songs via the Transmontane bandcamp site, or splurge for the limited edition vinyl LP, which is really packaged quite beautifully.


Transmontane - Lo Specchio Circolare LP



Transmontane on Facebook

Obstruction - Live at Clifford

Haha! I didn't even remember that someone had recorded that show! Wow, good times. I guess everyone was just too nice to tell me how bad I sucked on drums those days!

Actually, "Eyesore" was a pretty good rendition, we always played that one well and "Holy Martyr" rocked!

Man, my timing was horrible! I think I was playing in another time zone on "Underscore" at the end there. Haha.

Once again, our best song and crowd favorite "Gunshot" seemed to always stand out from the rest. I especially liked it when I hit my cymbal so hard it flew off the stand towards the end of the song! Now that was some serious hardcore! Who was that trying to put it back on, Doug? Pretty funny.

Those were the good ol' days boys!! When is the reunion show!?

--Andy Yang

-------------

We look so young and shiny, like we have our whole rock and roll futures ahead of us!

I didn't realize that I roll my eyes every time I mess up lyrics, that's hilarious.

Bah, who needs timing when you have hardcore? I love how the verses in "Underscore" feel like we're rushing because we're late for a hanging or something and then the chorus has this laid back almost ska feel to it.

On explaining the songs: I wasn't the most eloquent public speaker. Good thing my job was to bellow our lyrics.

The darkness and dinginess captures the feel of a basement show really nicely.

Yeah, that was Doug futzing with the cymbal. Andy you were rocking it hard! We should have set our instruments on fire (if only we could afford new ones)!

It was such a blast playing in that band with two of my best friends to this day!

--Hardcore Ron

-------------

I'd have to agree with what Chris O always says about too many bands making the mistake of talking too much between songs. But with a set that could be played straight through in only around 10 minutes, I think we were sorta trying to string things out a little. Ah well...

I love seeing Ron rage on the mic, and watching Andy beat the drums into submission. The guitar work here is, as usual, somewhat regrettable. But whatever-- punk rock! Obstruction GO!!!

So cool that this video exists!

--Ted Hennessy


see also:
Obstruction - One Step Closer
Obstruction on MySpace
follow @SBP90s on twitter

Faye, Leslie, and Shelley - Live at Clifford

I am so glad that we were able to participate in the scene and do so with our very own style and sound - without feeling that we had to emulate any of the other bands that were there. I am glad as well that people gave us a listen, and for the most part were respectful of the fact that we were just doing our own thing. How awesome for this suburban housewife to have some video of me hanging around where I am playing in a band at Clifford the Big Red House, with two smart as hell, outspoken, wonderful women - not to mention the times when Zoe played with us as well - another smart as hell wonderful lady.

Thank you to whoever recorded that moment in my life [ed. it was Roger] - and thank you Ted for putting it into the ether forever...

--Leslie



see also:
Faye, Leslie, and Shelley - Demo Recordings
Faye, Leslie, and Shelley on MySpace

twitter: @SBP90s

Ted Leo - "Innocents Abroad" (Chisel) live on WFMU 3/2/2010

Last night, Ted Leo made his latest in a series of recurring appearances on The Best Show on WFMU with Tom Sharpling, during their annual fund drive. Aside from playing a few solo versions of songs from his forthcoming album, The Brutalist Bricks, and a couple goofy covers, Ted whipped out an old Chisel classic... "Innocents Abroad." As Ted explains, he actually had to download the lyrics from the internet, to refresh his memory after not having played the tune in about 13 years!

Well, it sounded as good as ever, and was certainly a special treat for all the old-school Chisel fans out there. We've procured an MP3 of the cut for you, so check it out!

Ted Leo (solo) - "Innocents Abroad"

Additionally, you can stream the entire show by clicking here.

UPDATE! Video footage of the performance has popped up on YouTube:



follow Ted: @tedleo
follow us! @SBP90s

The Mad Dogs - Live at Clifford

Been waiting for some crappy, dark, South Bend basement show video? Well, here's some footage of the Mad Dogs from 1997, performing in the basement of Clifford the Big Red House (opening for Hey, Dummy).


Songs: Mexican Girls, Blue One-Stars, My Religious Girlfriend, Love South Quad Style, I Think I'm Alone Now.

Chris:
Let's see... I guess I am proud to have been the only person rocking a homemade New York Dolls t-shirt in South Bend in 1997. I am not as proud of the Chain of Strength-esque mic grip technique I employed. Compared to subsequent bands I have been in I am impressed by the amount of energy I put into writing the lyrics to these songs (and remembering the words to the too many verses). I am not impressed with the between song monologues ("banter" would suggest some back an forth). I am not embarrassed by the subject matter of songs like "I Got a Thing for Mexican Girls." I am embarrassed by the coda of the song; what in retrospect now sounds like a Judgment Night Soundtrack/rap/rock "breakdown." I am still jealous Doug got to sing "Blue One-Stars" himself (because I had not yet learned to play an instrument). But I am no longer jealous of his preference to showcase his other bands and sweep the Mad Dogs under the rug (he was correct to do so). I am apologetic to anyone who endured this set, since we had not learned the 4th rule of live music performance (you don't HAVE to play every song you know every time). I am not apologetic for breaking the first rule of showbiz (leave them wanting more- ha!), because the negative energy was essentially the point. I wish I was as thin as I appear to be in this video. I do not wish to ever eat another dining hall chicken sandwich or Papa Johns pizza ever again.

P.S. Andy Yang loves you!

Doug:
Our set in this video seems way more mellow than I remember any Mad Dogs show ever being. However, I have absolutely no memory of strobe lights in that basement, so I suppose there is other stuff I've forgotten as well. I do remember spending a lot of time on the floor during Mad Dogs shows. I don't remember some of these songs at all. I always thought these shows were fun, no matter what Chris says.

Mike:
I'm not sure whether I should be happy or sad that you can't really tell if it's me in the video. I am happy that we have video evidence of this band's existence. The strobe light is a nice touch. Marvel at Doug's ability to continue playing bass whilst being attacked by Chris! Behold the steely gaze of Ted the destroyer! Never before has a drummer (yours truly) so artfully melted into the shadows! Witness the awesome power of amps breaking and bandmates flailing and audience members stunned into submission! Beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Or something.

Ted:
Watching these old Mad Dogs videos (yes, there's more) makes me realize that I probably should've spent more time learning to play our songs, and less time drinking before performances. But I guess that was our M.O., so screw it, it was a hella lotta fun. If we couldn't be musical, at least we were a spectacle. Anyway, I'm glad Roger or whoever recorded some of these basement shows, they've been, uh, interesting to look back at. It was also fun to see Andy singing with Chris on "Love South Quad Style," even though I butchered the middle of it. Oops!

Read more about the Mad Dogs here.
Download our cassette.
Visit our MySpace page.

Krautmiser - Last Show 6/3/1995

In the summer of 1995, Krautmiser went on tour through the Midwest. It culminated in a final show in Doug McEachern's basement in Pennsylvania, where all good things must come to an end. Amazingly, a video of the show survives, and even more amazingly, we're going to feature it here. Krautmiser aficionados may recognize the deep tracks "Daft Benefactor" and "Puck's Theme," previously thought lost forever.

On this tour, a Vietnam vet in Sandusky was close to starting a fight with us; in South Bend, we took all the couches, tables, chairs, indeed every stick of furniture, out of Jules and Jack's house and burned them in a midnight bonfire, causing the fire department to attempt to pay us a visit--a failed attempt, for Cripe Street was under construction; we enjoyed an enchanted evening with St. Louis' own Beatle Bob; and our roadie went AWOL from the Army.

Those are the true Krautmiser stories. Here is a fake Krautmiser story, which James wrote on tour and read aloud before Krautmiser's show at a coffeehouse in Kansas City.



Krautmiser didn't intend to go on tour in that humid summer of '95. The boys had decided to take time off from the music for a while and go prospecting for gold in the Ozarks. You may find it hard to imagine those dapper young men of leisure sweating in the afternoon sun as they toil with rock picks and chisels, but make no mistake: a gaggle of pale effete aesthetes Krautmiser is not. Although Krautmiser's streetfighting days were behind them, their pugilist's strength and endurance remained: indeed, the London Times, reported that not only was Krautmiser rumored to have participated incognito in shady prizefighting tournaments, but that drummer Jack Howard had actually killed a man in the ring—a revelation that scandalized a nation. Protective mothers forbade their daughters from attending Krautmiser shows, tut-tutting that "if those lads can't control themselves in the ring, how do you think they'll treat a young lady?"

In any case, as the rest of Krautmiser was panning for gold in the Arkansas River deep in the heart of the Ozarks, Jules Dingle, Krautmiser guitarist, struck the mother lode. "Gold! Gold! Gold, I tell you, boys, gold!" Jules bellowed from the side of the mountain as he rappelled down. Krautmiser's eyes opened wide at the sight of the vein Jules had uncovered in the side of the mountain. What a windfall! Finally, Krautmiser would have enough money to buy a moon rocket. This was a longtime dream of vocalist Dave McMahon's, and only reluctantly revealed after one too many white wine spritzers at a local saloon. "Daddy always said, son, you gotta be a moon man," Dave slurred as he swung his bottle around in a clumsy arc. "He always said I was his little moon man. Dad always said, son, you gotta go to the moon. Damnit!" Dave threw his bottle to the ground. "Who am I kidding? I'll never make it to the moon. I ain't nothin' but another chump in a suit. They don't let chumps on the moon, I hear! Oh, what's the use! I'll never be an astronaut! Pour me another drink there, Kennedy—I'm blubbering like a baby."

But now it looked like Dave's crying days were over. "Finally," muttered bassist James Kennedy as he swung his rock hammer into the mountain, "we won't have to listen to that sniveling buffoon weep into his pillow every night about his precious moon."

It took days for Krautmiser to mine the gold, but at the end of the week, all the ore was packed into Krautmiser's stagecoaches. It was only then that Krautmiser had their first fateful run-in with Old Man Grizzard—the self-proclaimed "Master of the Mountain" who headed his own obscure cult of renegade hillmen and unsavory ex-rangers.

"Varmints! Cotton-pickers! Carpetbaggin' scalawags!" spat the grizzled old prospector, waggling his rock pick accusingly in Krautmiser's direction. "That there's my gold you're totin', boys!"

As always, Jules Dingle was calm and cool and ready with his acid tongue. "By what rights, you locust-eating old coot? Out of our way, or we will be forced to strike you."

"Goddamned city boys—I'll keelhaul the lot of ya!" sputtered Old Man Grizzard. "I'll have you know that this is my land you're standing on—and I suggest you clear off in a hurry—sans that gold, of course!"

"Your land, huh?" Jack Howard asked skeptically. "Prove it."

"Why, I just happen to have the deed right here," said Old Man Grizzard. And out of the right breast pocket of his flannel shirt he produced a crumpled, yellowed legal document. "See here, boys, this mountain has belonged to me since eighteen-ought-four!"



James Kennedy scanned the document with a critical eye, bringing his encyclopaedic knowledge of nineteenth-century American colonial law to bear on it. "This is all well and good, Mr. Grizzard, but not only is this document improperly notarized, but it also has its basis in an archaic Missouri statute that was struck down by the Supreme Court's landmark 1837 Charles River Bridge v. Warren Bridge decision, in which then-Chief Justice Roger B. Taney established the policy of 'eminent domain.' In other words, this land belongs to no one—and therefore, the gold we mined belongs to us."

"Flamin' hootenannys of sweet Jesus! I own this land de facto!" snarled the ornery mountain man. Burly, gamey-smelling figures stepped out of the shadows, fingering the triggers of their muskets. Old Man Grizzard chuckled to himself. "You drop that gold right now, fellers—or I'll fill your behinds so full of lead that you'll never have to worry about atomic radiation again for the rest of your lives."

"Your deadly uranium is our morning tea," riposted Jack Howard airily. Rolling up his shirtsleeves, he turned to Krautmiser. "Boys! Shall we scrap a bit with these hillbillies for our hard-earned gold?"

Dave McMahon, tears brimming in his wide, innocent eyes, stepped forward. "I've never wanted anything in my life so much as a moon rocket," he said, voice cracking a little. He shook a tiny trembling fist. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it. I say we fight, guys."

"Then it's settled," smirked James Kennedy as he finished changing into his purple-and-yellow spandex fighting gear, complete with glitter and lace ruffles. "Let's throw down, you inbred honkies—and let me teach you a new meaning of 'squatter's rights.'"



And so the brawl began. "Man, those gymkata lessons sure are coming in handy," muttered Jules Dingle as he delivered a roundhouse kick to Old Man Grizzard's chin from off the pommel horse, ending in a triple reverse flip and flawless recovery that brought the judges' table to their feet. "Gottinhimmel!" shouted the notoriously difficult-to-please German judges in exultant joy. "A new Mary Lou Retton for a new unified Fatherland!"

"Sorry, boys," said Dingle as he wiped his brow. "But my heart and my incomparable gymkata skills belong to the good ol' U. S. of A. Good luck in '96, guys—you'll need it."

Soon Krautmiser had dispatched all of the mountain men. Only Old Man Grizzard was left standing.

"Hogtied! Hornswaggled!" howled Old Man Grizzard impotently, jumping up and down in rage. "You done put some kinda hex on my boys or somethin'—this ain't right! Tain't natural!"

"Nothing magical about it at all," replied James Kennedy as he wiped blood and spittle from his hands with a pre-moistened lemon-scented towelette. "Just the usual skills one picks up when one has to fight one's way out of an Iranian prison with nothing but one's own bare knuckles and a first edition of Brideshead Revisited."

And so Krautmiser boarded their stagecoaches and left the Ozarks for good. But even as they pulled away from the mountains, they could still hear Old Man Grizzard's mad ravings:

"This ain't the end! No, not by a sight!" hollered the crusty codger. "I'll pursue you gold-heistin' varmints up and down this great land of ours—I'll strap on my magic nose and smell the roads for your droppings—I'll pursue you in the dead of night from city to city, soiling my own undergarments in the sheer thrill of the chase. O! Young Krautmisers! You have stolen gold from the wrong man. For as you can see, I am more than a man—I am a man who is even now wetting himself."

And so began Krautmiser's 1995 summer tour. Pursued by gold prospector Grizzard, Krautmiser flitted from St. Louis—to Oklahoma City—to Kansas City—to Chicago—to Sandusky—to South Bend—to Pittsburgh—to Philadelphia—to Newtown, PA—and finally to the moon, where Krautmiser had their lunar showdown with Old Man Grizzard in the barren wastes of the Sea of Tranquility.



A new addition to the Krautmiser cast: our roadie, the indefatigable Puck

Naturally, none of it could've been done without the help of Krautmiser's resourceful roadie Puck. Three cheers to Puck, who was always on hand with the right quip, riff, or farming implement to help Krautmiser out of a tight situation. Puck’s unparalleled beekeeping skills have saved Krautmiser from Dr. Hexagon's "flesh hive" more than once. An accomplished linguist, Puck once compiled a definitive Etruscan-to-English dictionary—essentially, the elusive "holy grail" of classical liguistics—during his off-hours on one of Krautmiser’s international tours. However, as soon as Puck completed the massive scholarly opus, he just as deliberately and soberly burned it, if only to spite the hidebound academic establishment that had jealously expelled him from their ranks so many bitter years ago. And, of course, every schoolchild knows that Krautmiser would be in Davy Jones’ locker at the bottom of the Challenger Deep had not Puck single-handedly outwitted the merciless Emperor Gionko and his cadre of pinochle-playing robots at their own game. The beloved tale was produced by Universal Studios as a full-length motion picture, starring Emmanuel Lewis as Puck, the Facts of Life girls as Krautmiser, and the 1985 Chicago Bears as the scheming yet fickle Emperor whose lust for potpourri spray and brass knickknacks was—ironically enough—his own undoing.

see also:
Krautmiser on MySpace

emiLy Live at Prufrock's - March 1996

Guess what, boys and girls? The South Bend Power 90s crew is now unleashing video on your unsuspecting eyes. Yes, the same technology that distilled mp3s from old audio cassettes is now pulling sound and images from dusty old VHS cartridges and stitching them into magical streams of 1s and 0s that let you relive the 90s right on your monitor.

Our very first offering is footage of emiLy playing at Prufrock's Coffeehouse in Lambertville, NJ. The show took place in March of 1996, at the beginning of our spring break tour which consisted of this night in Lambertville, a show in the back room of Blue Chair Records in Tampa, FL, and a house party in Gainesville, FL.

Part 1 of the video starts with a snippet of "Sap" and a quick glimpse of my parents' cat Cuddles, whose possible godhood we declared in the liner notes of engineering means i Like you. It then moves into "ayin" and "Tactical". Between the initial snippet and the two full songs, observant viewers will note that the suits we donned for the occasion disappeared. It was too hot to keep them on.



In part 2, Joe introduces a quieter set of songs, "Finer Time" and "Fearless". Prufrock was getting complaints about the noise, so much of the set was a struggle to keep dynamics in check, especially on drums. At times I put a t-shirt over the snare drum. At other times I played parts meant for the ride cymbal on the floor tom, as it didn't ring so much. The hi-hat does tend to drown out the rest of the band at times, flooding the microphone on the camcorder Ted was using to tape the show.



Part 3 begins with "Tear in My Eye", a song unrecorded at the time, before progressing through "Talking God, Talking Girls," "Atoms Are A Boy's Best Friend," and "Trinity". We recorded the latter three songs (as well as "ayin" and "Sap") a month earlier for what became the riverrun CD. Check out the microphone jury rigged to what is definitely not a microphone stand!



The rest of the tour was a bit more eventful. We played with Grade and a bunch of grindcore bands in Tampa. We also played a crazy house party in Gainesville. Anyone who remembers anything about that show remembers more than me, as I made one too many trips to the gas station for 32's of OE800. Ah, youth.

Keep an eye on the SBP90s channel on YouTube for more videos in the future!

see also:
emiLy on MySpace
emiLy on last.fm