In Shackles of the Human Skin

Zero Hour was a short-lived crusty peace punk band hailing from the Oakland/Berkeley area during the early to mid ‘90s. I do not hear them mentioned often these days, even amongst whatever anarcho/crust enthusiasts I know. However, they had quite an impact on me as a teenager attempting to branch out beyond the typical ‘80s hardcore staples. Punk bands of the doom-and-gloom variety were new to me at the time, so Zero Hour was like the next level when I first heard them. Musically, Zero Hour predated the mid ‘90s ‘Oakland sound’ with elements that one can still hear in new bands coming out of our fair city today. Whisper’s vocals were particularly engaging. She certainly did not live up to her name as she delivered her anguished observations on the state of humanity. Four songs about the world being a shitty place to live in left me in a daze by the time they were over. There are times when this record still has that kind of effect on me, although I am usually stoned beyond comprehension when that happens. Perhaps you should try that before you put it on.

I should mention that this record used to be great fun to listen to on the slower speed of 33 RPM. We at The Evil Eye like our readers to live life to the fullest extent, so we have included a slow version as well. This way, Zero Hour sounds so sludgy and disgusting that it is almost like cruel and unusual punishment to foist it on an unsuspecting public. Some of you will like it. Some of you will undoubtedly hate it. Then again, some of you are also sick freaks. Let us know what you think either way.

Zero

Darkness Filled My Soul

Do not let the clearance bin quality cover artwork deter you from allowing Demolition the chance to fill your soul with their brand of musical darkness. These Japanese crustys are as close to a perfect fusion of GISM and Motörhead as I have ever heard. Since you probably already think that both of those bands are two of the all-time greats, it is obvious that I do not need to say anything else in regards to Demolition. After all, you have already clicked here to download my favorite record of theirs, the Darkness Filled My Soul 12-inch from 1999. Am I right or am I right?

Sistema Brutale

Out of the handful of bands involving this fashionable clan of West Bay punks, Sistema Brutale rated the highest in my book. Most shows I remember them playing took place at Burnt Ramen during the club’s peak in 2002. Although I do not recall a single occasion where they showed up on time, they usually made up for it with a decent set. People usually forgave them because they knew how difficult it was for them to even get a damn show in the first place. Rather than scene politics getting in the way, somebody’s dickhead father would hang up on you when you called to get them a show. I think they were often late more because of a “you’re not going ANYWHERE until you’ve finished everything on your dinner plate” thing than intentionally being late so they could play higher on the bill. Of course, if Sistema Brutale were REAL suburban punkers, they would have just killed the guy’s dad in the name of anarchy. I guess it is true that they do not make punk rockers like they used to…sigh…

I think Sistema Brutale was this group’s attempt to emulate Finnish hardcore, but I always thought it came back to early Disorder and Short Sharp Shock-era Chaos UK. That argument holds up well with this tape, which was recorded on a two-track in the garage. With that in mind, expect a demo that sounds muddy and chaotic at best, but not without its charm. My favorite song of theirs was always “Condemned to Die,” with some line regarding a “helmet on my head, boots on my feet.” I had been told that it was an anti-work song, which made me wonder why their singer wore a helmet to an office job. A bike helmet? A military helmet? Who knows?

Sistema Brutale may not have had their shit together, but they had potential to be more than a forgotten Burnt Ramen footnote. This demo is good fun to listen to. Should you choose to download it, at least you know it will get to your hard drive on time.

Sistema!

Pale Existence vs. Exhumed

Two cult legends of Bay Area death metal duke it out on this early release from 625 back when they were still run out of Max Ward’s parents’ garage. I assume most of the metal readers are familiar with Exhumed by now. Exhumed was always at their best in the split seven-inch format for a few reasons, but this one is my favorite. Their two contributions were recorded with what some would call their best lineup, featuring future Impaled and Ghoul bassist Ross Sewage. “Blood and Alcohol” is short and to the point, while “Oozing Rectal Feast” is more drawn out and varied. Not that it matters, but the latter track was always my choice cut from this slab. 

Those of you who are hearing Pale Existence for the first time may be impressed with what they have to offer. You may also be disappointed by the fact that they only have two songs to listen to. I know I have been dying to hear some of those cassette-only Pale Existence releases for the past decade-plus anyway. When I heard the term “blackened doom” used to describe a number of recent metal bands, I hoped that this is what people meant. Unfortunately, it was not the case. However, things can always change for the better. Pale Existence churns out two songs of blackened doomy death thrash that is comparable to anything else coming out of the metal underground, even now. They should have caught on amongst those who were starving for this kind of evil noise during the 1990s—long before many others did. Instead, a few members went on to play in Exhumed over time before their rhythm guitarist became the popular electronic DJ Bassnectar. Strange, but true. Whether the dubstep fanatics appreciate this record is not of my concern, but you should take a moment to acquaint yourself with this fine slab of gore if you have not already.

666

Youth Nabbed as Sniper

Thirty-five years ago today, Blondie played a show at the famed Old Waldorf in San Francisco. KSAN was on hand to record the festivities, making it possible for people like yourself to listen to it today and wish you were there. Apparently this recording was taken from the radio station’s production reel, so the sound quality is as good as it gets. I want to say that this was a seminal show in San Francisco punk history for some reason, but I cannot remember any specifics right now. It’s not like I was at the gig or anything—I was born about six and a half months later. Do you care? Probably not. It is a live Blondie recording from when they were still a couple years away from becoming a jukebox staple at every hipster douchebag bar across America. Not only that, but it sounds fantastic. What else do you need to know? If you are a fan, you already know that you are going to love this. Thank me in the comments section for once in your miserable lives.

Blondie

Flash Gits in the Hour of KALX

Many a band have passed through the hallowed halls of UC Berkeley’s KALX to play live in their studio on Saturday nights. My crappy teenage punk band actually happened to get that chance shortly before we broke up, which was a personal goal of mine. You can imagine that I was nothing short of thrilled to be there. I was also nothing short of wasted during the entire broadcast. The rest of the band was NOT thrilled about that. The KALX people would not allow me to bring alcohol into the studio, especially what with my being underage. Instead, I chugged down my 64 of Mickey’s in the back of Fat Slice Pizza and walked back to sweat out my toxins. Naturally, I sobered up the second we finished playing.

Perhaps some of these songs should have been included on our posthumous Flash Gits in the Hour of Chaos CD. We fucked up a number of songs, but never did Ian’s guitar sound fit the “volcanic chaos punk” description more than it does here. This is essentially what you got if you happened to be bored enough to see us play—four Beavis and Butt-Heads with Doc Martens and musical instruments, making noise and saying dumb shit. We broke up two weeks later, angry with each other and frustrated with our own lack of upward mobility. After the fact, Six Weeks informed me that our song “Cider Sluts” was one of their favorites on their upcoming America in Decline compilation and wanted to put out a record for us. We would have died happy punks with that accomplishment, but it was too late. That was a typical scenario with this band, as well as others in the area with similar destinies.

Click here if you can give Shen-Shen a place to crash tonight.

Stoner Bitch

Named after a cannibalistic witch in Slavic folklore, Baba Yaga was a mostly-female doomcrust outfit hailing from Seattle during the late ‘90s. Perhaps you are more familiar with Grey, the band that they eventually morphed into. As far as I know, Baba Yaga didn’t leave their hometown much (if at all), so they are something of a footnote in Seattle’s heavy music scene. I imagine that those who attended their shows probably remember them fondly, though. From what I recall, touring bands that made it up to the Pacific Northwest cited Baba Yaga as one of the best they played with. Naturally, recommendations to book them at Gilman Street were high, but that never happened thanks to a certain someone maintaining a stranglehold on their contact information. Apparently, he wanted to be the guy who “discovered” Baba Yaga and introduced them to the Bay Area—yet he continually dropped the ball and made excuses as to why they supposedly canceled yet again. Of course, he was not willing to share their info with anyone who was better equipped to make things happen. It is too bad he was not willing to put his ego aside, because Baba Yaga probably would have done well for themselves on a show with bands like Dystopia or Noothgrush. 

The only known Baba Yaga recording issued to the public was this two-song demo, meaning that it takes longer to read this post than it does to listen to the tape. For me, these songs grow on me the more I listen to them. Jenny Hill’s violin replaces the lead guitar, which sounds a helluva lot more interesting than another longhair wanker trying to be a guitar hero does. “Stoner Bitch” is similar to a band like Damad in its approach, while “Taker of Souls” brings forth the doom and destruction like 13 or Cattlepress. As the listener, you are left yearning for more once it ends. Since you do not get what you want, you simply restart the tape and listen to it again. Thanks to modern technology, you can just hit the “repeat” button instead. 

Although other blogs have posted Baba Yaga’s demo before, it is our humble opinion that our rip is better than others you may have heard. We do what we can, anyway. You can at least expect perfect MP3 quality at a bit rate of 320 kbps. We tried to correct the odd volume inconsistencies between the two songs (was this perhaps intentional?), although one still has much more bottom end than the other does. We just thought you would like to know that, but what matters more is that Baba Yaga is your new favorite band to get massively stoned to. Start your next session here. Thanks again to Evil Eye reader Matt Parrillo for supplying the original cassette.

Young Murder

If you attended filthy hardcore shows at Gilman Street during 1996, you may remember Redscare maintaining the opening slot on those gigs much of the time. You probably remember them more for their vocalist Cera’s obnoxious red leather pants (prompting the nickname “Redpants”) than for their music, but that’s why we’re here today. Redscare hailed from the bullshit whitebread burgh of Walnut Creek, but peeked over the hills towards Gilman Street and Oakland’s heavy punk/crust scene for inspiration. People who knew them on a more personal level would probably say that they looked around the dinner table instead. If I am correct, Cera’s older brother was Multi-Facet’s drummer Dan, while the brother/sister tandem of Elizabeth and Greg Schneider were the younger siblings of Bill from Monsula and Pinhead Gunpowder. Doesn’t that just warm your little heart? Unfortunately, it also fueled criticism of the band and perceptions of nepotism in Gilman booking habits by some that were envious of Redscare’s ability to get good shows regularly. Redscare was a fine band regardless of who they were related to. As if you could expect them to turn down shows with bands they enjoyed.

I believe this is the second of two Redscare demos recorded in 1996. Listening to it all these years later, they actually come off as more musically progressive than the Oakland crust bands they usually played with. At times, it is like a hybrid of that Oakland sound with some of the heavier emo bands that predated the whole “emo/screamo” thing by a few years. Redscare continued in this direction, eventually coming into their own with results that made their previous detractors begin to take them more seriously. Too bad they broke up without documenting their best material. The last show I saw them play at Gilman in November of 1998 was fantastic. Cera was out of the band by that point, leaving Elizabeth as the primary vocalist. The musical intensity they displayed that evening had to have been at least partially fueled by wanting to prove that there was more to this band besides older brothers and red leather pants. Redscare broke up shortly afterward.

Redscare may not have been a definitive band in the East Bay punk scene, but they are one that I remember in a nicer way than others at that time. I think more than enough time has passed to where the scene politics no longer matter (as if they ever did in the first place) and Redscare can be appreciated for the decent band that they were.

Click here for your bleeding innocence.

We'll be back

The Evil Eye is going to sleep for a couple weeks. Worry not, for we will be back next month with the tunes you like to hear and the posts you like to read. In the meantime, enjoy the summer weather and let us know of any dead links.

Amerika the Pitiful

Not to be confused with the NYHC band of the same name, this WarZone actually hailed from the Bay Area during the early 1980s. If nothing else, they were proof that MRR co-founder Jeff Bale was capable of using his mouth for something besides being overly opinionated about music—or lectures about international terrorist groups, but that might be more interesting than anything being discussed here today. WarZone would not have been out of place alongside bands like Social Unrest on the Not So Quiet on the Western Front compilation. Their approach to early hardcore was standard compared to better-known local bands, but spirited nonetheless. I particularly enjoy the song “Moral Majority,” which opens this seven-inch with a hearty “FUCK YOU!” to the Reverend Jerry Falwell. WarZone’s only other vinyl offering was their contribution to the live Eastern Front compilation, in which none of the bands emerged unscathed by the slow recording speed. Amerika the Pitiful was recorded in 1982, but went unreleased until Allied Recordings dusted it off nearly ten years later. Feel free to tie a flannel shirt around your waist and practice stagediving on your bed.

Here

S.D.S. vs. Hong Kong Knife

Come on down to the Rock ‘n’ Rool Show this weekend to check out a pair of Japanese punk bands that sound completely different from one another. Longtime Evil Eye readers should be aware of Societic Death Slaughter (SDS), as we have posted them here before. The kings of Japanese motorcycle crust take you on three rides through the nuclear wasteland, ending with a bizarre Discharge/Disorder mash-up called “Confused Erectoro (Kon-Den).” We know absolutely nothing about Hong Kong Knife, but their sole contribution to this party was well received. They shank you with some solid ‘60s-inspired garage punk that occasionally speeds up to more of a hardcore pace than similar bands like Teengenerate or Guitar Wolf. “She Doesn’t Sxxx (Shinuhodo Decorate Ga Shibui Kawajan)” is a perfectly enjoyable song and I wish there were more. If this Rock ‘n’ Rool Show appeals to you, go here for tickets.

Damaged

Twenty years ago, my dad and I went to Eide’s Records and Comics in downtown Pittsburgh to do some music shopping. Acquiring at least one Black Flag tape was on my agenda that day. Mind you, I was NOT supposed to have anything to do with punk rock whatsoever. My parents were of the impression that what few punk cassettes I owned were responsible for their son going in a bad direction. However, neither of them could name a single punk band if you asked them to. If anything, I could dodge the issue by saying that I was checking out metal bands instead. Heavy metal was more acceptable because my parents had held founding fathers like Black Sabbath and Deep Purple in high regard earlier in life.

I was unsure of Black Flag album to check out first, but I knew the song “Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie” and that was a start. Damaged was probably selected via process of elimination. The intimidating cover artwork certainly helped as well. Somehow, I managed to keep my nervous excitement contained while under my dad’s watchful eye. When we got home, my dad went outside to do yard work. I stayed in so I could listen to my new Black Flag tape. Naturally, I plugged in the stereo headphones so my dad would not hear what I was listening to.

Black Flag took that fun feeling of “music I wasn’t supposed to hear” to a completely different level that day. Damaged was as appropriate of an album title as any, for that is exactly what happened to me upon hearing it for the first time. Rather than having fun, I was actually frightened by the album’s violent intensity. These songs declared war on my mind, already winning before I had a chance to fight back. Forget about what my parents would think; I was certain that this music was illegal. Surely, it was on the government’s list of controlled substances. I kept looking around the room as the album played, wondering when the police would kick in the front door. The SWAT team would come crashing through the windows at any time.

I looked out the window, but I only saw my dad working on the garden. No forces of law and order were in sight, but I was still convinced that I had stumbled across something akin to a top-secret document on the Kennedy assassination. I kept Damaged under wraps for the rest of that visit with my dad. Other tapes I bought that summer by bands like Fear and the Exploited could be confiscated, but the Black Flag tape was some revolutionary shit. The planet seemed to shudder on its axis and nothing was ever the same again. There was a new war going on inside my head and I needed weapons to be able to fight it. I felt like it was my responsibility to smuggle the contraband back to California by any means necessary. Of course, that managed to happen with no incident. The idea that punk rock was forbidden had somehow been forgotten about, which was fine by me. Life moved forward.

Black Flag may not evoke those same feelings of paranoia that they did for me initially, but I can still point to them and say that they are the band that had the biggest influence on me personally. Nothing that Henry Rollins or Greg Ginn do in the public eye will ever take that away. If I could recapture their insane work ethic, my life would be relatively problem-free. I suppose you could say the same for yourself too.

Here

Absolute Killing Power

Cattlepress was a band that may have tickled your fancy if you were down with some of the heavier strides that ‘extreme’ hardcore took during the 1990s. If you are unfamiliar with them, then you are in for a treat—especially if today’s sludge bands fail to provide your ears with enough raw hatred in their sound. Cattlepress evolved out of the band Sin, whose split CD with Spinewrench can be found here. Their most widely available record would probably be their final LP on HydraHead, while the split LP with Agoraphobic Nosebleed is likely to be considered the definitive Cattlepress release by idiots like us. Thanks to Evil Eye reader Matt Parrillo, we have a Cattlepress demo from 1995 for you to check out. I do realize that all of their info online says that their demo was released in 1993, but this one was definitely recorded in 1995. Perhaps someone can shed some light on this subject. Two of these five songs were re-recorded for their Showered in the Love of the Abhorrer EP, while “My Only Wish is to Destroy” was included on Slap-a-Ham’s Fiesta Comes Alive! compilation. Although they occasionally go off in other directions musically, Cattlepress keeps things centered at a reasonably slow and grinding pace. This is definitely not doom for pretty boy emo-gone-metal hipsters. Cattlepress were about inflicting musical punishment on your sorry ass. Your beard and full sleeve tattoos will not save you from this bloody beating. However, chicks dig scars and you could use a couple of them. Click here to finally become a man.

Trust Gods

Hailing from upstate New York during the early ‘90s, Conniption predated a number of bands who attempted to give hardcore kids in their area something different than the tough guy/straight edge norm that probably still pollutes towns like Troy and Syracuse to this day. This is another record that somehow managed to survive multiple collection purges without my ever listening to it, at least until recently. I do not remember how long I have owned it for, but I do recall that the lame cover artwork played a role in my not taking the record seriously enough to bother listening to it. My mistake, although I imagine that said artwork probably got them some heat with whatever feminist punk sects there were in upstate New York circa 1994. By this point, I think it has been acknowledged that the artwork was a bad choice and everyone has moved on. 

Although they were more of a crusty hardcore band than their future projects, you can certainly hear elements that were utilized later in Devoid of Faith and even more so in Monster X. Since both of those bands were some of the best that ‘90s hardcore had to offer, perhaps you might enjoy taking a trip further back in their lineage. Get your ticket to grind here.