f 7inchSlam.com: Love Songs For the Unloved

2.15.2007

Love Songs For the Unloved

So another Valentine's Day is upon us. One more day to see every 22-35 year-old lady get flowers at work, watch couples stroll arm-in-arm down Carson Street, and sit alone in my apartment braving black metal-caliber weather and wishing the entire human race would get exterminated in some extra-"grimm" fashion (note the "extreme Nordic Deathcrush" spelling).

My neighborhood looks like this:


Pretty shitty, I'd say. No one's plowing the roads, I can't ride my bike, and no one is leaving their house; so there I was sitting around doing nothing on Valentine's Day because I have no woman to begin with, which I figured would happen anyways. So since I had nothing to do, I figured I'd spend some time with my records by myself. I'd say on Valentine's Day, most people would be running around with their significant other boring the shit out of me at a restaurant by talking about what's happening at work/school or who's pregnant or who's getting married. Fuck you! I've got better things to do. First off, I'd discuss the three releases I got sent to me here at 7-Inch Slam HQ.



Here we have the Black and Whites two singles on Shattered and Douchemaster (along with a great cassingle on Hiss Lab, which I originally assumed was assembled by the band themselves). These were sent to me by B&W's singer/songwriter Talbot Adams of Oxford, MS. He's the brains of the operation and a fan of ours (yeah!) who's really shocked the underground Rn'R community with how cool these records are. Imagine the "No Place Fast"-era Real Kids meshed together with a little tougher guitar chops and Southern boogie and some super-clean vocals. Talbot has a knack for penning a catchy tune, and dips into his former Jenny Jeans songbook for gems like "Bad Expectations". The tunes were right on for how I was feeling at this point in the evening: bouncy, full of hooks, and with some slightly subversive lyrics that have a little bite to them but could still get you laid by the end of the night. You never know. "Fucked Up Heart" is the great punker here with a little jangle on the guitar and plenty of tambourine to keep you shaking.

These guys and girl (that fine lady Twinkle Van Winkle is credited on playing on a track as well) have crafted two great 45's and I assume the sky is the limit for when they record an LP. Just one suggestion to the B&W's, the packaging for the cassingle is the shit and really sets these apart, but the 7" covers leave a little something to be desired. However, Talbot was nice enough to send me the Douchemaster colored vinyl limited to 75 and that record looks out of this world. One more tip: PUT THE SONG "CIGARETTES AND CONTROL FREAKS" ON YOUR NEXT RECORD! It's the best and most people haven't even heard it since it isn't included here! The Black and Whites are the band you need when you're either loving or leaving. If you're in a bar and some wack bullshit dipshit DJ/cop drops one of the B&W's tunes on their iPod, go ask the cute girl you saw sitting alone to dance. It's probably the best chance to do it and this is the best soundtrack you can ask for before you smoke dope in the bathroom and puke after making out with her. I don't think I can pay it a higher compliment than that.

But when you're alone and the shittiness of the world sweeps over you and you can't handle your anger any longer, there's something else you need:



THE MOTHERFUCKING BRAINBOMBS.

Remember when you listened to Funhouse and thought "Wow, no record is this raw and this cool"? Remember when you listened to droning, crushing, vile music? Remember when you got so fucked up you couldn't get off the floor because you were melting into the carpet? The Brainbombs helped get you and I there. They may be done now (who knows, though, there have been multiple break-ups since the band began in 1987). They just released a "final" 7" EP on Portland's Anthem Records in a scant pressing quantity of 377. The only other Brainbombs record I've been able to procure without dropping 30+ dollars is the Ken Rock Records' "The Grinder" EP. There's not much to say to describe the Brainbombs. They include members of Swedish bands like Totalitar, which makes no fucking sense since one of the repeated lines here is: "I was born of a whore/I sucked his cock/Stinking memory". The Brainbombs might be the most scuzzy, acid-drenched, hate-filled group of fucking Swede pricks like myself pummelling their guitars and droning out deadpan vocals about slicing open hookers and murdering sexual conquests ever.

I have nothing. But I do have the Brainbombs. Anyone who wants to make a trade for or sell me the "Obey" and "Genius and Brutality" LP's, please give me a buzz on Myspace. Being alone is never the same after you've been alone with the Brainbombs.

I know what you're saying: "Where's the food, dick? I'm not a punk. I'm a cop."

Well, once I was good and lit up and pissed, I debated what I was going to make to eat. We had plenty of food since we had bought groceries that day and everyone was gone except me, so I decided to make something big and dumb and stupid, because what else do I have to lose?

I started off with some smoked sausages. I boiled these in beer, then broiled them. My toppings were chopped onion, garlic, tomato, feta cheese, and Buffalo sauce. Since I was taking risks, I was hoping this worked out alright. To my surprise, the sausages were excellent. If only I would have had some bleu cheese, but what can you do?



One the side I had a few other interesting ideas. I'm a fancy guy, I can cook, but I love shitty food, too. That's part of the reason this site exists on the web. So why not throw some trashy fare into the mix? That's where Tina's Frozen Burritos come into play. While many people would gladly say "Oh, well, I can get those for two bucks down in Hip Neighborhood #1 with so many different good gourmet toppings". Well, fuck you, you queen. I've got limited time and even less patience to watch a bunch of limpwrists strutting around in track jackets and beards pretending not to be rich and white. I want a dumb fucking beef and bean burrito with some Tapatio hot sauce that cost 50 cents and nothing else. So I made that in our toaster oven (we don't have a microwave and I don't miss having one) and put it on the side.



Then I had some broccoli cheese couscous that I thought would really liven up the mix. See? Gettin' fancy again. I'm worth your time, ladies. This stuff is the best. I could eat it everyday. My final side dish was some steamed green beans and edamame. You know why? Because you can blow your fucking gullet out 24 hours a day and go back to being a fat kid like I was, or you can actually have a working colon and maybe try to get some girls next year. I'm hoping I'm not dead from anger by then so I can actually give it a go. So enjoy the meal and just remember, FUCK VALENTINE'S DAY AND FUCK THE HAPPY COUPLES. You've got records and a full stomach and that's better than eating at Boston Market alone on Thanksgiving, I guess. Later!

PS: Thanks to Talbot for being a great dude and sending some stuff to us. Bands, follow his lead! Go check out The Black and Whites and tell him we sent you! Also, send Twinkle Van Winkle to me!

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2 Comments:

Blogger Baby Pop said...

Feta on a sausage? CRAZINGS!

9:37 AM  
Anonymous Twinkle VanWinkle said...

well- it's nice to know i wasn't the only one at home listening to records on valentine's day. :)

1:13 AM  

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