If I have to listen to one more “Punk Rock Sampler” as punk as Christina Aguilera and Backstreet Boys, I will rip out every hair on my head, very slowly.
Like a fleeting one night stand that is so magical you wonder if it ever happened, Lost in Translation and its soundtrack encapsulates a sense of “brief magic.”
The first installment of a series of mini-comps featuring four bands with two songs each. Boston is first, and comes through with a very strong effort.
The camera wanders like any ticket-holder, looking for the best possible combination of acts, leaving mid-song to see if anything better is going on elsewhere.
Nick has been a junkie, a poet, a movie star, but above all, a man who can shape pain into beautiful music. They play songs from eight of their twelve albums.
A re-release of a series of live shows from the early ’90s. The version has Uncle Jim at his most rock-star, a period right before he had to dry out or die.
Biafra’s political rants, questionable logic, and rabble-rousing become vicious art. The clips demonstrate Biafra’s ability to incite dissension on a per-locale basis.
It’s heartening to see a packed club of heavy metal maniacs in the same city (Detroit) that has launched so many lame-ass garage rock bands in recent years.