Clean-cut guys in touch with their Rush-listening, feathered-hair days, and apologetic about not having been in hardcore bands since they could draw an X.
Stag documents the moment Melvins decided their Atlantic deal was not worth the trouble. It’s funny, annoying, and, once in a while, downright brilliant.
Underground rock’s greatest shame is its perennial neglect of Britain’s Jazz Butcher, Patrick Fish, a remarkable songwriter who deserves a far better fate.