Thursday, July 25, 2013

Dag Nasty - Field Day



Dag Nasty is the definitive, if not the first, "melodic hardcore" band.  Similar to the bastardization of other punk subgenres (emo and metalcore for example), the melodic hardcore Dag Nasty pioneered is much different from the agonizingly slow, melodramatic seriouscore bands or the whiny pop crap that make up a bulk of the genre today.  The Allmusic bio of Dag Nasty sums the sound up pretty perfectly: "Although the group was more accessible and melodic than Minor Threat, it never lost its blistering edge."  The band did change over time, however, due in part to the band's going through several singers, but mostly as a result of former Minor Threat guitarist Brian Baker's evolving playing and songwriting style.  Later Dag Nasty can be hit or miss, but deserves attention.

Most Dag Nasty fans point to Can I Say as the band's best and most important LP.  Some favor the sophmore effort Wig Out at Denko's, the first release with Pete Cortner on vocals.  Dag Nasty has a sort of Cro-Mags thing going on, in the sense that each band has groundbreaking debut LPs, the singers bail, and the band carries on.  If Wig Out at Denko's can be viewed as Dag Nasty's Best Wishes, then Field Day could be considered their Alpha-Omega.  There are some absolutely incredible moments on this LP, but the album as a whole suffers from too much experimentation and some incredibly dated sounds (In 1992, the Cro-Mags were messing with funky rap metal; in 1988, Brian Baker led the band through some icky pre-grunge ballads and showcases the cheesy metal noodlings that he would get out of his system with his abysmal Junkyard project.  How much of this influence came from moving the band from DC to LA is a question worth asking.

Despite its flaws, Field Day is the Dag Nasty record I listen to the most, because the good songs are simply damn good.  The songs are a faster mid-tempo, slower than the Can I Say era, but faster than a lot of Wig Out.  The production is very crisp and clear which in this case, works to the band's benefit.  The drums sound great, the guitars are powerful and clear, and the overall mix is excellent.  The vocals sound great, a real step up from Cortner's vocals on Wig Out, which sound very thin.  His singing is on another level here also, he has powerful vocal presence whether he is belting it out or singing softer as he does on the opening track:
Despite the distance, give me trust and I will bring it home to you

At around 1:58 you have that classic Dag Nasty guitar playing, where individual strings are picked and the notes rings out in a truly melodic fashion.  This song is the first of a few that deal with love and infidelity, perhaps most blatantly (and cheesily?) on this next track:
So take your hand and dry my eyes, and if I doubt you know how...remind me too

This is maybe my favorite song on the record.  This is the faster mid-tempo I mentioned earlier, and it really drives this song.  Some might consider the chorus to be pretty cheesy ("If you doubt it, let me remind you, I'm in love with you) but I don't think it's necessarily cheesier than any other song that has the word "love" in it.  The tone of this song is very sincere and since the themes of love and doubt appear throughout the album, it seems like it comes from a real place.  The break halfway through the song is incredible, giving us another one of those ringing out melodic guitar lines as the song builds up to the final chorus.  Also notice the drumroll, very tight and powerful -- the record is punctuated with these.
Leo is dead.  It's not the end of the world.  Sometimes I wish it was.

Probably the most powerful song on the album, "Dear Mrs. Touma" is about death of a young man and the lyrics read as a letter to his mother.  I think it'd be best to post the lyrics in their entirety and then we can get all English class on them.  According to the official Dag Nasty FAQ, the lyrics are true.
Dear Mrs. touma,
I walked upstairs into the kitchen
saw a piece of birthday cake and I heard my mother crying
"dressed in his black raincoat , black hat lying on the yellow line...he was run down..."
Your son was taken
And he spoke so often
with belief
with conviction
never with righteousness
of the day he'd go to heaven
and I will believe
if only for his sake
in father , son , and holy ghost
in whom he was so certain that he'd
turned the other cheek to those who teased and hurt him
Leo is dead
it's not the end of the world
sometimes I wish it was
I wouldn't wish it on anyone
Leo is dead
it's not the end of my world
sometimes I wish it was
sometimes I wish it was
and as for the man across the street
as he expresses sympathy (the fat, aging hypocrite )
spit into his face with me
"when you heard he was gone , you couldn't wait to be the first to seem concerned.
did you think we'd never learn ?
you were lying to us
you laughed at him
you threw upon him your own vices
you lied to us about everything
you lied about your barfly conquests
dying your hair to hide the gray
you're masturbating bitterly on your front porch while the wife's away"
Leo is dead
it's not the end of the world
but sometimes I wish it was

This is one of the best songs I've ever heard that deals with the death of another, the struggle to accept it, and the horrible realization that death does not care to be fair or just.  "I will believe if only for his sake..." is probably my favorite line, as the singer admits that going to heaven is the only way that death doesn't have the last word, even if ultimately he doesn't believe in it for himself.  The second verse describes a stupid asshole of a man, very well one of those whom Leo had turned the other cheek to.  This song makes me think about all the cool people who die while the wicked and horrible survive.  Mr. Rogers dies, Pat Robertson lives.  MCA and Jeff Hanneman die, Bono and Steven Tyler persist.  Why was the man across the street hit by a car instead of Leo?  I regress.  This ranks with the best Dag Nasty songs.
You felt so all alone and so did all of us
Great song about what it means to be an individual, and if you ever really were one.
New year, new start, minutes pass before it's ripped apart
Another song about a troubled relationship.  "One moment past repeated again and again in my mind."  Some Brian Baker fretboard gymnastics towards the end.  

There are a few other good songs, a few sleepers, and a cover of the earlier Dag song "Under Your Influence" that adds a new part, so horrible that you could apply every criticism of this record to that one part.  If you liked what you've heard so far, I've uploaded the record since it is long out of print.  


Before I go I will leave you all with a picture of the back of one of the get well cards my nephews sent me. Thanks for reading, I promise my next post will not take two weeks.
The Mayor, formerly my cat now the king of their house

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Longer than Hell: The Definitive History of Waiting at the Hospital

Me shortly after my release from the hospital,
a homecoming made special by my wonderful girlfriend.

First things first, it is my mom's and sister's birthdays, as well as OJ Simpson's.  I'd like to wish them a happy birthday.

I got out of the hospital around 8pm on July 4th.  My girlfriend drove us back to our apartment and we were finally able to relax together outside of the context of a hospital room with all the rules and restrictions.  We got home before the fireworks started, so we were able to see the entire spectacle from our living room window.  Our 3rd floor living room faces north and we have a clear view of the Prudential Center and that general area, and we were amazed by the view we had.  We had the window open, and it was nice to hear the street noise from below in addition to the distant sound of the fireworks.  Much better than that fucking horrible music they play during the fireworks.  The entire Boston 4th of July extravaganza is pretty bad, catering to the lame tastes of middle America.  I remember in 2006 they had Dr. Phil speak.  Give me a fucking break.
Somerville had its own little fireworks display in front of our apartment in the form of police
arresting a shirtless bum at the store across the street. 
Since then, I've been doing alright.  I take about 20 pills a day and have to jab myself with a needle for another week to stimulate stem cell growth, but ultimately this is nothing new.  That's probably the worst part about being sick: little things might change, but every adjustment gets old fast and at the end of the day you're still sick, and and becoming healthy is the only change that you care about.
Pills I've accumulated.  
Today I had an appointment at 10:45 and when all was said and done, I was leaving at 4.  Rule #1: always anticipate a long day at the hospital.  Waiting is the name of the game and you never know what unforeseen shit might come up that extends your visit (today was a surprise hour-long magnesium infusion).  Fortunately, I made my girlfriend carry the ten-pound tome Louder Than Hell: The Definitive Oral History of Metal in her bag so I was able to squeeze in some quality reading time.  I purchased this book almost exclusively for the crossover chapter which is pretty damn awesome if you like reading about Roger Miret and Raybeez robbing drug dealers with meathooks and things of that nature.  You can also read Evan Seinfeld pat himself on the back like a 13 year old who just got a blowjob.  What a fucking loser.  The crossover chapter is good but failed to mention Leeway, who are the kings of NYC crossover.  Someone could (and should) devote an entire book to crossover, from Suicidal to DRI to what was going on in NYC and how Boston absolutely failed when it came to hardcore bands going metal.  I am looking forward to the forthcoming book about Agnostic Front's "Cause for Alarm" period entitled "Metalled-out Skinheads."

I know I am going crazy with the links, but this post would be incomplete without mentioning the unpublished "New York Hardcore Book" which you can read in its entirety here. I urge anyone with a passing interest in NYHC to take a look.  Much of it is the oral history format featuring a huge and diverse group of NYHC figures.  You can read it straight through or search the document for keywords, ie "CBGB" "Harley" "guns at shows" etc.  Fantastic read.

I will leave you guys with an excerpt from "Louder Than Hell" that made me laugh out loud and really captured how frustrating the medical world can be:

I have no idea how to format that.  Thanks for reading.  Next post I will be discussing a lesser-appreciated record from a classic DC band and providing download links.  Take it easy.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Halfway there

I didn't mean for several days to pass since my last entry, but frankly I haven't had the energy to write at length. I know in my last post I said I would write about Regeneration Records, but I'm going to save that for another time.  Instead I'm just gonna give a quick update.

Today was my fourth and final day of chemo.  I haven't experienced any side effects this time and I will pretty much be chilling all day tomorrow until I receive my donor cells some time on Wednesday.  To be honest my only physical discomfort comes when my bladder is about to explode because I get too lazy sitting in bed all day and put off going to the bathroom until the last minute.

I've learned that five or six nurses here have labradors.   I was listening to Leeway today ("Rise and Fall") and my nurse asked me what it was because she thought it sounded awesome.  I can't think of a third stand-alone sentence before my next paragraph.

A couple nights ago I was watching a terrible movie from my childhood, "The Dirt Bike Kid."  Along with Rad, this was one of the movies I used to rent when I stayed home from school with a cold.  (There used to be a general/news store in the town I grew up called Dorothy's, owned by an old couple, and they used to rent VHS tapes.  They had this giant binders with photocopies of all the box covers I used to page through but usually I settled on one of these two movies.  Now I watch them on youtube).  Anyway, this movie is an absolute piece of trash but it was fun to skip around and watch the good parts.  I forgot that the bad guy in the movie is a banker named Mr. Hodgkins.  How appropriate.

Earlier today a young woman around my age stopped by my room and introduced herself as the chaplain.  I was visited by a chaplain the last time I was in the hospital, but he had the sense to ask me if I was interested in speaking with a chaplain and avoided wasting both of our time.  This woman on the other hand asked me how my time in the hospital has been, so I had to answer her to not be rude. When I told her it is going well, she paused and said, "Why's that?"  She would pause and ask a question in response to anything I said.  "How do you do that?" "What do you mean?"  I couldn't tell if she was just a poor conversationalist, or if she was hoping to engage me in some religious discussion.    Eventually she asked if I was raised with any sort of faith, and I told her no.  Liife would probably be easier if I had been.

Out of here soon.  Thanks for reading and I will post again when I am home.

H