Yes! Finally, after what turned out to be a gigantic task of moving the PROFANE EXISTENCE distro from Minneapolis to Denver, transferring tons of data, and rebuilding the web store, we are finally set to open back up. To access the new store follow one of the many links from profaneexistence.com or access it directly at http://profaneexistence.storenvy.com
The first official PROFANE EXISTENCE title of 2015 is out and ready for order! We are proud to bring you the RIFLE DIET – “NO SOLACE”LP
Rifle Diet’s No Solace is a 12in 45 that combines the Classic Minneapolis crust sound with Swedish hardcore, D-beat and Epic crust (think somewhere between Servitude and Wolfbirgade, with hints of Tragedy and Fall of Efrafa). The beautiful cover art by Hannah Benoche sets a bleak mood for the dark music within, plus a cover of His Hero is a Gone – Chain of Command (ex-members of InDefence and Garmonbozia) This LP is a joint release between PROFANE EXISTENCE and BLOOD OF THE YOUNG RECORDS
To honor both the opening of the new store and our first release of 2015, we are giving a free copy of the RIFLE DIET – No Solace lp to everyone that spends more then $50 from Monday January 12th to Monday January 19th!!! This deal is for one week only. DO NOT MISS OUT!
*Note*Rifle Diet are playing a record release show 1/17/15 at the Dogplex in Minneapolis with Kontrasekt, Aziza, and Fucking. To coincide with that show all orders that contain the RIFLE DIET – No Solace lp will be shipped out on Monday January 12th.
The next release in the works is the new full length lp from APPALACHIAN TERROR UNIT – “We Don’t Need Them”.
We Don’t Need Them is the second full-length record from West Virginia punx Appalachian Terror Unit. ATU have become known throughout the years as being one of the most politically charged bands in the current punk scene. This new record is an all out attack on today’s society that takes ATU to a new level of intensity both lyrically and musically. The combination of the beautiful and thought provoking gatefold cover art designed by Stivart along with the brilliant recording and mastering job by Jay Matheson at the Jam Room take this record even further. Song subjects include the horrors of war, police brutality, destruction of the environment, rape culture, consumerism and much more. Expect a very heavy and much angrier approach from a band that has been around the block and matured their sound. Seven raging new tunes including the epic fourteen and a half minute track “We Don’t Need Them”, a song that will one day be ranked among similar greats as the SUBHUMANS “From the Cradle to the Grave” and AUS ROTTEN “And Now Back to Our Programming”.
APPALACHIAN TERROR UNIT – We Don’t Need Them will be pressed in the United States on PROFANE EXISTENCE & in Europe on SKULD /RUIN NATION
WARWOUND – “A Huge Black Cloud-The Demos 1983“
Another record we are very excited about is the upcoming WARWOUND – A Huge Black Cloud-The Demos 1983. Recorded in 1983, this record contains 15 songs from three sessions. With a few different takes you get a total of 25 blistering tracks. For those unfamiliar with WARWOUND they are a UK band formed in 82, and released 2 demos in 83. Members went on to join THE VARUKERS and form the almighty SACRILEGE. Warwound are one of the first bands to take the politics and d-beat influence from DISCHARGE and combine it with the blown out sound of CHAOS UK to achieve total destructive raw d-beat ear bleeding chaos!
WARWOUND – A Huge Black Cloud-The Demos 1983 will be a split release between PROFANE EXISTENCE and ORGANIZE AND ARISE.
It will be available in the spring of 2015.
Other records and projects we have in the works for 2015 …
VASTATION (pdx formally night nurse) vs WAR//PLAGUE Split EP
KRANG are a new band birthed from Chicago’s DIY punk underbelly. They play a brutally powerful brand of thrashy riff-laden crustcore and have an intense live presence. They have recently recorded for a few vinyl projects, including PE’s own 7″ singles series. Check ’em out!
Interviewed by Brian Poulin (NEGLIGENCE). All photos by Adam DeGross.
PE Who’s in the band and what does each of you do?
AUSTIN: guitars / backing vocals / song writing (synth & keyboard on 12″)
ADAM: bass / backing vocals / song writing
BRENDAN: lead vocals / lyrical content
DEVAN: drums & percussion / backing vocals
PE: What’s a brief history of the band and how did you guys form?
Austin: We started circa 2009. We had an additional guitarist: Louis C. He went on to start a blackened crust band called Welkin Dusk, based in Chicago that he plays drums & lead vocals for. We used to have an additional lead singer as well: Hannah B. Hannah was a part of our first two releases: the out of print “Onward Desolation” demo tape, and also the out of print “Bog of Eternal Stenchcore” 7″. Hannah is now the front-woman in a band called Despise, based out of Minneapolis. Our original drummer, Brett, is on the two recordings I mentioned before, as well as our “Sounds of Death” 12″. Brett now drums for a Chicago / northwest Indiana band called Asphixiate. Devan is now our permanent drummer and he will have his first appearance on the “Broken Waves” 7″, released by Profane Existence, which is coming out in June. Devan will also be on our next 12″: “Bad Moon”, which we are writing right now. I, as well as Krang, are totally stoked on Devan and really happy to have them. Devan is active outside of percussion as well with assisting in writing, assistance in lyrical content & structure, and the internet stuff. This line up has been solidified for over a year and is totally fucking Krang! It just works perfectly.
PE: You guys are based out of Chicago. What are your favorite parts of the scene there? What are your least favorite things about Chicago’s scene?
Devan: Chicago’s an interesting place. I feel like the pros and cons are often directly related to one-another. For example, the mere size of the city. There are so many people – new to here, young, old, whatever – that there is basically always something going on and a handful of solid DIY spaces at all times, regardless of whether people leave or places get busted or whatever. The downside is that the physical structure of the city makes it difficult and/or terribly time-consuming to navigate. Especially if you don’t have a car. And even if you do, parking sucks. Anyway, as a result of the city being as segregated as it is, people are often inclined to just stick to what’s going on in their neighborhood and it results in a lack of exposure or attention paid to some really cool things. It’s unfortunate. But then there are some events like the annual Black and Brown Punk Show (shout-out to Monika!) or other fest-type shows where the attendance is crazy and bullshit is minimal. It’s rad.
Austin: I used to live in CHI. I reside in northwest Indiana (NWI). It’s really close. You can compare it to how close Jersey is to NYC. The rest of the band does live in CHI. My favorite things about Chicago is the “don’t take shit” attitude that at least me and the scene we’re involved with has. We’ll kick you out if your a piece of shit human or kick your ass if we have to. I also like The Void Haus in NWI for gigs. My personal least favorite things are cliques, hype, division, etc… the things that you see in every rather large city, I suppose.
Adam: I love Chicago’s unspoken rule of everyone being down to get down when shit hits the fan and nobody lets bogus comments or derogatory gestures fly. My complaint for the longest time was how there is the same hierarchy that we all hate in daily life at a lot of the gigs. It seems like those “in crowd” wanks have come and gone though, or maybe I just don’t surround myself with such fools anymore. My main complaint, and I know I am sounding super negative, but for such a large city there is a lack of bands playing what I am into personally. There are a lot of great bands doing great things…but that doesn’t necessarily mean I am into them musically. Haha! I have a particular taste and its not being fulfilled. I usually go to shows to hang out and have a good time and just show support but its rare that I actually shit over a band that I see locally. I do really, really get down to Population though. White boy can’t dance but when I see this band I start doing shit I didn’t know I was capable of.
Brendan: Chicago is simultaneously the best & worst place to live; which I’d imagine is a critique most other big-city dwellers share. There is no shortage of great folks, bands, eats, cool nerd-haunts (comic & record collectors rejoice!), and beautiful neighborhoods/communities in which to live. The same is true for all of the awful yuppies, gold cost bourgeois, & assholes who get your friends hooked on hard drugs. A lot of the time I wish that I lived in a vast expanse of lush nature with no human presence save myself. When I’m not wishing for seclusion, I’m loving how hard of a time I have sorting out which of the 5 awesome punk shows I get to go see any given night. Chicago has everything I love & hate at once; most of the time its worth it.
PE: Musically what are you guys going for?
Devan: I’d say sincerity, first and foremost. In sound, words, and delivery. And the connections we can and have made with people based on that. My musician’s answer would be just to write the best songs we can and perform them at the highest level at all times.
Austin: I just want to stick out and be a little different sounding. I still want to have that essential formula for great punk. I personally believe we found the introduction to our sound with the “Sounds of Death” 12″. We have two formulas: triumphant, galloping crust metal and simplified, pissed off, to-the-point stuff.
Brendan: Initially we formed with the idea of writing over the top odes to crust circa late 80’s/early 90’s; stuff you could flail your overgrown dreadlocks around to. We all fell into a groove with each other over time, where we don’t really need to define what we’re gonna write before we do. We approach releases with general outlines (theme,length, format etc.), but when writing songs I’d say we aim for mean, earnest & impactful.
Adam: I think naturally all being into different types of musical backgrounds, our finished product ends up being a thing of its own, but we all have similar enough interests to where we end up with the result that we initially were trying to go for. I personally am really into trying to sound like the bands I am into. It doesn’t end up exactly that way which is good but I love when bands obsess over old school sounds/bands/records and try to make their contemporary music sound as authentic as possible whether it be tone or style or whatever. At the end of the day we are trying to sound pissed, like we worship the 80s and have our music sound anarchy as fuck!
PE: What bands inspire you the most?
Austin: I listen to EVERYTHING. I don’t know where to begin but musically, keeping personal interest aside, I think we’re inspired by 80’s UK crust and a lot of Japanese stuff as far as writing collectively. This is something me and you will have to nerd out on when we’re in Boston next. Haha!
Adam: For Krang, bands that influence the writing process for me are Masskontroll, Deathraid, Sacrilege, Hellshock, Deviated Instinct, Sodom, Axegrinder and Amebix as well as Instinct of Survival. Personally I am all over the water but my all time 2 favorite punk bands have always and will always be Discharge and the Dead Boys.
Devan: I could go on a long rant about every band I’ve ever loved and how they’ve all stuck with and influence me to this day and blah blah blah, but I’ll spare you the cost of ink and just say Sacrilege, Crude, Amebix and Discharge. That said, we are quite the eclectic bunch.
Brendan: Musically, anything running the gamut from Paintbox to Elliot Smith. I enjoy a lot of soaring Japanese hardcore with that Burning Spirits feel, 90’s screamo, early black metal & hip hop. Any band that has a way with words gets me going, but mostly I enjoy music that you can’t help but feel.
PE: What are most of your songs about? What inspires the lyrics?
Brendan: Lemme preface by saying that Discharge is rad & “The More I See…” could be the soundtrack to my daily tedium… but i think punk rock has much more potential than to rehash our dogmatic & oftentimes simplistic politics. Having been a few places where the punk scene eats itself inside out with depression, addiction, & apathy towards the struggles of those around us, I think its real important to allow ourselves to be more open in the way we express all of the things exploding in our minds. I am not blowing my own horn, or any horn for that matter, but I really enjoy taking the personal route when it comes to writing & am constantly attempting to better address the common threads that run through all of our lives. Our first wave of songs covered some of our political leanings in regards to vivisection, arms manufacturing, rape culture & the willful destruction of our Earth. The “Bog of Eternal Stenchcore” 7″ reflects on the weight of stagnation on the “politically motivated”. “Sounds of Death” is the result of an obsession with death and a years worth of hurt; friends making irreversible decisions in regards to their lives & some of us falling into those spirals ourselves. There is absolution in acceptance though & I think a glint of hope in such dark subject matter. Our upcoming 7″ deals with cycles of change in our lives, moments of mania & madness; a counterpoint to our last 7″. The songs we are writing & playing now are an extension of that, focusing on moments of change in our lives, wanderlust & really just form one big, loud, pissed love letter to the DIY community, punk rock & time spent on the road. Inspiration comes from any human I’ve met that has dared to be open, honest & shameless about it.
Devan: Passion in all its forms and extremities is what inspires us. Totally.
PE: You guys have done a few extensive tours. What’s your favorite city you guys haveplayed in? What’s your least favorite?
Austin: I love Boston. Detroit, New Orleans, and the Twin Cities (Minneapolis) are up there too. I don’t really have a least favorite. We have had some bad experiences, though. I will give them the benefit of the doubt and not mention them. Hopefully things will be better when we return.
Devan: New Orleans is my favorite city ever, and our most recent gig in Boston totally ruled. I’d have to say, though, that many of my favorite shows have been in non-major cities. Birmingham AL was awesome, Asheville NC, Cincinatti OH, Grand Rapids MI…basically anywhere with a really tight-knit but wide-ranging DIY scene in terms of age, music, spaces, projects, etc. It’s always super encouraging to see.
Brendan: I’ll echo the others in saying that NOLA, Asheville, Cincy, Birmingham, Boston & Baltimore all kick ass. I’m usually super appreciative of all the towns we’ve been lucky enough to play in, though of course we’ve played in towns that seemed to embrace the anti-PC attitude/sense of humor that I am so fucking sick of. Some cities are really 50/50 because you’ll either play an amazing show with bad-ass folks & have the time of your life, or you might end up wanting to eviscerate some fuckhead who only listens to GG Allin & doesn’t get why a confederate flag hanging at a show space might ruffle some feathers.
Austin: We as a band aren’t about making sure we are politically correct all the time, but we definitely are hellbent on showing one another respect and are willing to give respect back to those who are legit. No single city is bad. Like I said before, sometimes there are some bad experiences. Fuckheads are everywhere.
Adam: Yes, Cincinnati, Birmingham, Boston, but most of all NOLA and Minneapolis. New Orleans and Minneapolis…no other city can live up to the debauchery that is expected to happen when we arrive in these two places. We need a week of recovery after being in either place for just a day. Also I love playing Madison a lot. Fuck, I love touring. So many amazing friends are being missed right now as we speak.
PE: What are some of your favorite bands you guys have played with?
Lord Krang: Scum from Detroit, Appalachian Terror Unit, Antisect, In Defense, Nu-kle-ar Blast Suntan, Kontrasekt, Cognitive Dissonance, The Skuds, Coelacanth, WrathCobra, Wartorn, Negligence, In Ruins, and definitely D-Clone; but honestly, it’s great to play with anyone and everyone who aren’t assholes and give a shit about “punk rock”.
PE: What are some of your favorite local bands from Chicago?
Lord Krang: Asphyxiate, Decay After Death (Decay A.D.), Cemetery (RIP), Culo, Die Time, Slag, Escalofrio, Sex Bunker (RIP), Birth Deformities, Gas Rag, Welkin Dusk, Daylight Robbery, Dirty Surgeon Insurgency, The Breathing Light, La Armada, Black September, Kontaminat, Ooze, Tensions, The Busy Sugnals, Population, More that we’re forgetting to mention….
PE: What does the future hold for Krang?
Devan: As Austin mentioned earlier, we have our “Broken Waves” 7″ being released in June, at which point we’ll be doing a small tour with Coelacanth. Also, as previously stated, we are well along in the writing process for our next full-length LP. Look for us around the Mid-west this summer and keep up-to-date and get in touch via the following:
crustardpunx[AT]gmail.com – krangcrustards.bandcamp.com – krangcrustards.blogspot.com
Austin: More touring, more albums, more blood spit nights, more everything! We’ll do a more extensive tour when the new LP comes out.
Brendan: “Bad Moon” 12″ – Skull Fest – Split(s?) – Self-Destruction With A Gusto
Lord Krang: Record labels that are interested in helping us with our next 12″ (which is more than half way written) get in touch with us!!! It will be even more galloping, pist, and triumphant than our still available “Sounds of Death” 12″!
For those of you who don’t know DEADLY REIGN, Its time to get with the program! DEADLY REIGN is a 3 piece D-BEAT killing machine with a legendary line up comprised of members from GLYICNE MAX, DOGMA MUNDISTA, SCARRED FOR LIFE, WORLD BURNS TO DEATH, KEGCHARGE, CENTURY OF WAR AND TILL DEATH. These guys have been at it for a long time and don’t fuck around when it comes to bringing you punk rock authentic and true to its sound and with their new single released on PE entitled SLAVE! These guys don’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. So let’s get to the brass tacks and see what these guys have been up to. (INTERVIEW BY DUTCH WELCH FROM KRIGBLAST)
PE: So what are your names, what do you play, and how did you guys come together?
(RAYGUNN) I MOVED TO AUSTIN AND RAN INTO GUERINOT AT HIS DAUGHTER’S BIRTHDAY PARTY. UNKNOWN TO ME, MY WIFE WAS AND STILL IS GOOD FRIENDS WITH HIS WIFE AT THE TIME AND HE AND I KNEW EACH OTHER FROM THE PAST WHEN OUR PREVIOUS BANDS HAD PLAYED TOGETHER. WE GOT TO TALKING AND DECIDED THAT WE SHOULD START A BAND. I SAID, WE JUST NEED A BASS PLAYER/SINGER, AND HE SAID HE HAD ONE. HE CALLED HIS FRIEND GUSHAMMER AND HE WAS INTO IT. THEY HAD BEEN WANTING TO START SOMETHING TOGETHER FOR A WHILE. AND EVENTUALLY WE GOT THE BALL ROLLING (OR SHOULD I SAY, THE BEERS FLOWING?).
PE: You guys have all been in some pretty kick ass bands in the past. who played in what?
RAYGUNN – GLYCINE MAX, DOGMA MUNDISTA, KONTRAKLASE, AND SCARRED FOR LIFE.
GUERINOT – WORLD BURNS TO DEATH, AND KEGCHARGE.
GUSHAMMER – CENTURY OF WAR, AND TILL DEATH.
PE: Who came up with the name Deadly Reign?
(RAYGUNN) I USED TO HANG OUT WITH A KICK ASS BAND IN THE EARLY 80’s CALLED BODY COUNT. THEY WERE AN EARLY D-BEAT STYLE OF BAND (BEFORE THE TERM D-BEAT WAS AROUND) AND THEY HAD A SONG CALLED DEADLY REIGN. SO I TOOK IT FROM THAT. (AND YES, I AM AWARE THAT THERE WAS A BAND CALLED DEADLY REIGN FROM NORTHERN CALIFORNIA BACK IN THE EARLY 80’s, BUT THAT IS NOT WHERE I GOT THE NAME FROM).
PE: The music of DR is furious, in your face politically and socially. Whats the motivation behind your song writing?
(RAYGUNN) MUSICALLY, WE JUST TRY TO WRITE MUSIC THAT WE LIKE. THE KIND OF STUFF WE WOULD LISTEN TO AT HOME. NOT SO MUCH TRYING TO BE ORIGINAL OR GROUND BREAKING. MORE OF JUST PLAYING THE HARD AGGRESIVE TYPE OF MUSIC THAT WE LIKE. WE GET IT ALL TOGETHER AND THEN GUSHAMMER WRITES SOME LYRICS.
(GUERINOT) I’VE ALWAYS SAID I CAN’T AND WON’T BE IN A BAND THAT I COULDN’T ALSO LISTEN TO. WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT OF PLAYING SHIT THAT YOU DON’T LIKE? WE AREN’T DOING THIS TO PLEASE OTHERS, JUST OURSELVES.
(GUS) SOME LYRICS HIT RIGHT TO THE POINT, RELIGION. IT’S FUCKING 2013 AND HERE WE ARE STILL DEALING WITH RELIGIOUS NONSENSE! PEOPLE THE WORLD OVER ARE BEING PERSECUTED, MISLEAD, AND OUT RIGHT SLAUGHTERED OVER RELIGION. RATHER IT’S CHRISTIANS, MUSLIMS, JEWS, OR WHATEVER FICTITIOUS BULLSHIT SECT THEY ARE IN. RELIGION IN ANY FORM IS UNCALLED FOR AND DANGEROUS! AND THIS COUNTRY USES IT TO PULL OFF SOME SERIOUSLY HEINOUS ACTS OF PURE AND UTTER VIOLENCE AND WAR. WE TOUCH ON THIS OF COURSE ON THIS RECORD, BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY IT’S DIRECTED TOWARD THE WORKING CLASS FOLKS AND THEIR DAILY STRUGGLE JUST TO PUT FOOD ON THE TABLE FOR THEIR FAMILIES. THE OLDER WE GET, THE SAME STRUGGLE REMAINS, EXCEPT NOW WE MUST NOT ONLY FIGHT TO FEED OURSELVES BUT FIRST FEED OUR CHILDREN AND LOVED ONES AND THEN WITH WHAT IS LEFT OVER, TAKE CARE OF OURSLEVES. SO WE CAN SLAVE ANOTHER DAY FOR A LESS THAN ACCEPTABLE WAGE. OVER THE YEARS I HAVE WATCHED OUR (PUNK) COMMUNITY OF FRIENDS WORK IN HORRIBLE CONDITIONS FOR SHIT WAGES WITH NO BENEFITS AND NO HOPE OF MOVING UPWARD IN THESE POSITIONS. AT THE END OF THE DAY THEY HAVE A SMALL CHECK THAT IS OVER TAXED AND A SORE ACHING BODY, THAT CONTINUES TO GET WORSE. “TELL ME IS THIS THE LIFE I’M FORCED TO LIVE TO PROVIDE FOR MY FAMILY?”…THE ANSWER IS NO! BUT NOT WITHOUT A FIGHT. WE HAVE TO CONTINUE TO POINT OUT THESE CONCERNS OVER AND OVER UNTIL THE POWERS THAT BE HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO LISTEN.
PE: You guys did a split with HELLKRUSHER not to long ago entitled Continuous Warfare. How did this collaboration come about?
(RAYGUNN) I HAVE KNOWN SCOTTY (HELLKRUSHER) SINCE THE MID 80’s WHEN HE WAS IN HELLBASTARD, AND I WAS IN GLYCINE MAX. WE USED TO BE PEN PALS, AND WOULD SEND EACH OTHER TAPES OF OUR BANDS, AND OUR FRIENDS BANDS. WE EVENTUALLY LOST TOUCH WITH EACH OTHER AND THEN YEARS LATER FOUND EACHOTHER VIA THE INTERNET. I SENT HIM SOME DEADLY REIGN AND HE LIKED IT. AND WE DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING TOGETHER.
PE: You guys all have family’s now and continue to tour, play shows, practice, record and work. How has DIY punk changed in your lives and how do you make it work?
(GUERINOT) WELL, I HAVE TWO DAUGHTERS BUT HAVING AN UNDERSTANDING AND SUPPORTIVE PARTNER IS KEY. HAVING KIDS IS ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I CAN POSSIBLY IMAGINE SO IN MY OPINION, THEY COME FIRST. WORKING AROUND THEM AND WORK IS USALLY PRETTY EASY. LATELY IT HAS BEEN A BIT MORE DIFFICULT BUT TRYING TO WORK OUT THE KINKS IN A SITUATION AND PUT PIECES BACK TOGETHER IS PART OF THE PROCESS.
PE: The new single from Profane Existence entitled SLAVE, what can we expect and do you have any future releases coming out?
(RAYGUNN) IT’S A LITTLE DIFFERENT THAN OUR LAST TWO RECORDS, BUT STILL THE DEADLY REIGN STYLE. NEXT WE WILL BE WRITING FOR A SPLIT 12″ WITH OUR FRIENDS KONTRASEKT.
PE: Closing comments, any last words?
THANKS TO ALL OF OUR FRIENDS THE WORLD OVER. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. ALSO, THANKS FOR THE INTERVIEW. AND BE SURE TO PICK UP THE NEW DEADLY REIGN ‘SLAVE’ EP ON PROFANE EXISTENCE! AS WELL AS OUR LP AND THE SPLIT WITH HELLKRUSHER. ALSO, WE WOULD LOVE TO GO TO EUROPE SOMEDAY, IF ANYONE OVER THERE WOULD LIKE TO HELP OUR BROKE ASSES OUT. HAHA! CHEERS – DEADLY REIGN
WARTORN are a whirlwind of thrash punk goodness hailing from Wisconsin. Since 2004, they’ve been hitting the touring and record release circuit with no looking back. Here’s a quick interview I did to let people know about their two latest releases, Domestic Terrorist 7″ (Profane Existence) & Iconic Nightmare 12″ (Southern Lord). – Andy Leffer
(This interview also appears in CVLT NATION)
PE: You know the drill, just give us the basics on who’s who and what’s changed in the past, in regards to any line up changes, etc. Also, give us some insight on where WARTORN is going. We want to know tours, records, riots, protests, arrests….the whole back story on WARTORN’s origins.
Bitty: (Vocals) The band started in 2004, with Ryan, Hart (on drums) and myself as a three-piece. Within half a year I got a call with an offer for our first tour, which was with Municipal Waste. We did a mini tour with them and ever since then we have been able to go on tours with amazing bands each year such as Los Dolares, ATU, CYP, Krang, In Defence, Pyroklast, Hellshock, and up next Raw Power . We have been to 13 countries and have done lots of releases on many different labels.
Ryan: guitar / low vocals / whiskey enthusiast. Well we started as a 3-piece and over a span of over 8 years, have ended up with 6 members. With 3 of us being guitar players we are able to diversify our songs in ways that we could only do in a studio setting. This obviously makes a difference live as well.
Ela: I’ve been the bass player for over the last 6 years. Recently, we came out with an LP/CD on Southern Lord Records called “Iconic Nightmare” and a 7-inch, “Domestic Terrorist”, released on Profane Existence (which is part of their limited edition singles series).
Toban: (Guitar) I think I might have the most arrests out of anyone in the band. Not like its anything to brag about. I did narrowly avoid another arrest a few weeks ago.
Derek: Guitar as well. I’ve been in the band for a few months and have been on two tours so far.
PE: The music is dynamic, to say the least. You’re not getting any half-assed riffs or mindlessly thrown together lyrics or production with your music. Elaborate on the process and what is the driving force for doing such a band. Punk is a political movement, it’s always been a political movement. Are you a part of this fray as a whole, or is this more of a personal, therapeutic outlet?
Ryan: I definitely believe in the power of the riff. Heavy and raging. Punk is a political movement, but I also see it as a community (full of musicians, artists, writers, photographers, open thinkers etc). A lot of us live/ have lived in punk houses and have been booking DIY shows for years. It’s something we do to contribute to it as a whole.
Toban: Ryan is the riff-master general of the band. He does a great job of coming up with some of the most incredible riffs of anyone I’ve been in a band with. Adding Bitty’s smartly composed lyrics and Hart’s hard hitting/tight drum style makes a great concoction.
Bitty: As far as what I write lyrically, I mainly write about personal experiences or historical events. I don’t tell people what they need to think, that is for them to figure out on their own. Also, I could not label myself as more than a realist and a situationalist.
Ela: Well in my opinion, I would say that we are a part of this as a whole, but it also is a personal outlet for me. We have all contributed to the movement in one way or another, but I think of punk as more than just a political movement. For me it is also about a unified community… where people come together, whether it is for political reasons, to share a passion for music, a hobby, art, etc. … and we definitely have that in Appleton, which is awesome.
Hart: I honestly wouldn’t say punk’s always been a political movement at all. The fact that DK, Meatmen, and the Germs, for example, all existed during one heyday suggests more of a harsh musical and broad social changeover than anything to me. For me personally, punk rock, metal and hardcore have always been a therapeutic and vindicating way of life that has consistently solved a lot of my life’s most harrowing, fucked-up times. It had a total bottleneck effect on how I raised myself mentally and emotionally. It was a really great thing to find out about when I was trying to figure out how to express myself when everything just infuriated or bored the shit out of me. Later, after I was free as an adult, I quickly found out it came replete with its own sense of community, and a totally viscous following I was never aware existed at all. This band is fucking great, cause we never throw a blind rhetorical blanket over our lyrical ideals, or even necessarily our instrumentation for that matter. We have a rough format that we’ve stuck to, but we all come from slightly different scenes and upbringings, and I’ve always thought it showed at least a little in our styles. I honestly don’t think the excitement of being in this band has worn off for any of us. Sure, growing pains have slowed our progress a couple of times, but whenever the next lightbulb goes on over our heads, it’s all go no slow!
Derek: For me, this is definitely a personal outlet. That’s what music has always been for me. Being the young’n metalhead in the group, I’ve kind of just been exposed to the world of punk houses and DIY shows recently. From what I’ve gathered so far I can at least say that the sense of community is beautiful.
PE: Your latest singles release on Profane Existence “Domestic Terrorist”. There’s no beating around the bush on this subject matter. Once again, can you elaborate on this specific release and the intention behind the subject?
Bitty: There have been a few times where I had local law enforcement “protect and serve” the shit out of me. As a kid in the 80’s from a small hometown, I’ve had guns in my face from the cops, hammers pulled back and screaming in my face. I have also had an off-duty cop put a gun in my face and ask me if I thought it was funny while he was wasted. You know of all the times I was ever robbed or assaulted, at least I knew if I fought back I stood a chance; I even survived an attempted homicide! But, it’s not so easy when you have to fight back against law enforcement. They just beat your ass and lock you up, even if they are totally in the wrong. I’ve witnessed so much personal corruption; to me it seems to be an extension of an abuse of absolute power. Now that, to me, strikes terror in any citizen.
PE: Bitty, you’re straight edge…maybe not self-proclaimed, but you don’t consume drugs or alcohol. Considering the genre of punk and it’s history of abuse with these elements, has this hindered your views on the movement?
Hart: Total interjection here! Dude, Bitty’s optimism actually astounds me. He’s seen more friends either die or completely lose their vitality as humans due to drug and alcohol use than I’d like to ponder. He’s remained pretty fucking pragmatic in his attitude toward his friends’ choices in that sense. I myself get pretty fed-up at times about my own friend’s use of drugs, especially certain ones. I’ve had plenty problems controlling my drinking in the past. I do believe I have a fairly good idea these days of when to dry out, but it can pull me into a real bad place. I start questioning what even matters anymore, and I start fighting everything that means the most to me. However, that’s where that community comes in again! I’m learning to seek out the right punks or no one at all when the time feels right, and I’ve been keeping up on it for a while now.
Bitty: Not at all. You don’t need to be like me in order for me to like you. The real moment that reinforced my decision was when I came home to a friend that lived with me and I found him in a pool of his own blood. He had tried to cut his hand off with a butcher knife while he was completely wasted and ended up with more stiches then an average shark attack. It really put a bad taste in my mouth about how substances can amplify bad decision-making skills. Although I am aware that most just use it to have a good time, truth be told, I just didn’t like it. It wasn’t my thing. But as long as you’re not hurting me or others in any way shape or form it’s your deal not mine. This is just a suggestion, have fun and do what you need to do to deal with things or get by, but try not to destroy yourself in the process. You might end up missing out on some good things in life.
PE: WARTORN is a great band, so with that….does WARTORN have anything they’d like to say to the world, it’s listeners or the masses in general?
Toban: In the words of country music legend Kris Kristofferson “Don’t let the bastards get you down”. Ryan: Thanks for the interview.
Ela: Thanks for all the support. We can’t wait to hit the road and tear it up again in a couple months!
Derek: May the force be with you. But seriously, I can’t wait to hit the road and I hope to see everyone reading this there.
Hart: As always, start 4 bands tomorrow and eat your fiber!
Bitty: Thanks for the interview Andy and everyone that helped us out and we’ll see you on the road. If you’d like to help us out with booking or have any questions, feel free to write us at email@example.com.
DESPISE are a four piece punk/crust/metal unit from the depths of the Minneapolis underground. Their 7″ release is a line of single’s being released by Profane Existence this year.
Interview by Andy (Leffer) of War//Plague
Let’s get this party started. First off…like most all interviews let’s start with who you are, what you do and what DESPISE is up to? What does the future hold after this PE single release? Also, expand on some each of your backgrounds, and what you were involved with prior to the band.
I’m Hannah, I do vocals and write the lyrics. I moved to Minneapolis from Chicago in 2010. I played bass and did vocals in Securicor from Chicago, and also vocals in Krang.
Zach: Hopefully we can put out some full length records seeing as we have a lot of material. As for before despise. I started going to shows at age 13 or 14. Played in a band called EZ Bleeders. We were rock/metal/funk/punk so everyone hated us but we just wanted to play. Grew up in uptown Mpls around a lot of older punks.
Hi. my name is Mike. I play bass real loud. moved to Minneapolis in 2009. its rad here.
What’s your thoughts on the Minneapolis punk community and how DESPISE falls into the DIY mix. There seems to be quite a good mix of punk and crust rising from the ashes of other previous projects within the Minneapolis scene. We had the 90’s and early 00’s that brought us DESTROY, STATE OF FEAR, ASSRASH, PROVOKED, PONTIUSPILATE, and needless to say MISERY, which is still going strong. Do you feel DESPISE is a part of this element of resurgence and is there still that dedicated @narcho thought process within the band?
Hannah: Definatly. Minneapolis has such a awesome punk scene/ community. So many rad bands that I have grown up listening to and have influenced me are from here.
Mike: well, if you want my grossly unimportant opinion, the scene and the music within it are two separate entities. the music is fucking fantastic. and only getting better.so many new bands and new faces. as far as where Despise fits into everything, i think we fit right in. if ive learned anything about minneapolis since ive lived here, its that its a weird fucking place filled with weird fucking people who like weeeeeeeeeeeiiiirrd fucking music. and if you havent met us, were a bunch of weird motherfuckers too. i fucking love it here.
Mitch: The scene has really picked up , it’s awesome to see so much activity now, it reminds me of how much was going on in the 90’s, so many awesome bands going on these days that local shows are always “stacked”, can’t even go grocery shopping without seeing people from bands or shows. It reminds me to be grateful , a lot of towns don’t have that. I definitely feel that Despise fits right in with what’s been going on.
Zach: I think despise takes a whole different approach to the punk scene. I don’t think of our music as being punk or even being really a part of this “scene”. I don’t make music for other people. I do it because its what I want to do
I know you folks had a bit simpler sound when you began. Straight up D-beat hardcore punk, but now it seems you’ve melded into a more crust, metallic sound. Was this an evolution of the band you knew would take shape, or was it more “fly by the seat” type thing?
Hannah: I think its the result of a combination of all of us taking influence from different sub genres of punk…grind, crust, black metal, d-beat, hardcore, etc…throw it all in a mix and you get Despise.
Mitch: It’s been a pretty natural thing as far as songwriting, the musicianship has lent itself to more technical stuff without losing our roots, really had no idea it would progress that way. Stay tuned for some good old fashioned though.
Mike: We always kinda had a general idea of what we wanted the band to sound like. the first batch of songs we wrote were very black and white, crust or metal. after that, everything just kind of naturally progressed into whateverthefuck it is today. zach is so talented when it comes to songwriting. he’s responsible for the metal parts. i just try to keep up and take care of the wicked awesome bass solos. we’ve become who we are together because thats all we can be. ourselves. when people ask what genre of music we play, i usually just say “loud as fuck” because i honestly have no fucking clue haha.
Zach: Crust is fun to play but as far as what I enjoy playing I usually drift more towards metal. Black metal at that. Probably we’re a lot of the metallic elements of our music comes out. Definitely don’t want to take all the credit for that because everybody helps meld the song.
What’s the ideology behind the lyrics and how the music is written?
Mitch: As far as the music goes it’s really just as simple as playing solid riffs and piecing the songs together as it sounds good, we’ll always come to a consensus before a song is finished, that way we all like the finished product. We try keeping things heavy and not being afraid to test the waters. Hannah will have to field the lyrics side.
Hannah: I write most of the lyrics…Most of which pertain to animal rights, vivisection, mental disorders, depression, drug addictions, negative effects humans have on the planet and our ecosystem, and of course cute bunnies taking over and killing humans.
Mike:Hannah has the voice of 10,000 angels. …burning alive in the fires of hell hahahaha. her voice is as much a part of our sound as our guitar and bass tones. but yea she takes care of the lyrics. all of our songs are about things that truly matter to us and to her. you can really hear that she means what she’s saying. we have some political stuff, animal rights, war is bad, so is jesus, blahblahblah. but the ones that stand out to me, the ones that make my cry a little every time we play them, are about real fucking shit. like how drug addiction is killing the scene from the inside out, watching all of our friends (and ourselves) die and lose their minds right in front of us and not being able to do anything about it, that feeling of hopelessness and desperation and shame you get every morning when you wake up and realize the world is still shit. im really grateful that i get to make music with three no shit honestly good hearted human beings.
Zach: Lyrics? We have lyrics?
Are you guys gonna tour and what about local gigs…big plans?
Mitch: Would be nice to do at least a little touring either east or west some time this year, locally, we definitely play our share. lol. Really want to get the rest of our recording released and get back in the studio, lots of newer songs. Hoping for all that this year.
Mike: I think so. i hope so. i let them do the planning for the most part. im down to party whenever wherever and however long they tell me to. but yea. another 7″ comin out soon, followed by what is bound to be the most epic full length record you’ll be listening to while you listen to it as long as you’re not playing a more epic record at the same time.
Hannah: We are planning on touring the east coast this summer. Hopefully the south and west coast after that. We’ve been playing a lot of local shows lately, especially with the release of the 7″. Hoping to record again soon!
Let’s end this interview the normal way. Last words or comments for the world?
Hannah:Up the punks! Ha.
Mitch: Thanks to Profane Existence for releasing the e.p. We can be contacted via Facebook or despisecrust@gmail we’ll have some merch available online soon.
Mike: Be yourself. fuck anyone who tells you you’re not cool or not good enough. this shit belongs to all of us. and if we want it to live forever, we need every single one of you. oh yea. and dont be a dick. seriously. why the fuck cant we all just get along? yea. sorry. fuck everything. upthapuuunnnxxxxx.
The Profane Existence Collective was formed in 1989 as a resource for the worldwide activist punk community. Over the years PE has published a magazine, released numerous records, and ran a large distribution operation. For the last 25 years volunteers and collective members have donated both their passion and time working endless hours making PE a worldwide name in punk rock and in activism. A few things have changed through the years and some of the biggest changes yet are now upon us…
In 2011 PE changed hands when founding member and main operator Dan Siskind stepped away leaving Ben Crew at the helm. In the last few years Ben rallied many of the old contributors and worked furiously getting out PE 64 and released a slew of records. After many hours of hard work Ben is stepping away from PE. So rather than allowing PE to die out the main operations will be changing hands yet again. However that is just one part of the many changes in store for PE.
Profane Existence will continue have many contributors and collective members however it will now be jointly spearheaded by Chris Luton (Appalachian Terror Unit) and Josh Lent (ROÄC, Custerfux, Chain Reaction Records). This means that for the first time PE will not be based in Minneapolis. The distro and mailorder site will now be run by Josh and based in Golden/Lakewood, Colorado while Chris will be working out of Huntington,West Virginia.
After much discussion we have decided that over the years PE got a bit sidetracked from the highly charged political punk outlet that it once was. Our goal is to get back on course. We expect many bumps in the road especially in the beginning, as we get familiar with websites. However we have a clear plan of action to be laid out over the next few months. You can expect the following changes…
First off we be trading much more and offering wholesale on PE releases. Which will mean a huge spike in the PE distro. We are eagerly looking forward to once again be distributing punk records on a wide scale. We are getting rid of all corporate downloading sites. No i-tunes no Amazon “no fucking way!”. In today’s world offering digital downloads makes perfect sense, however we will offer them from our own site and at a much cheaper rate. The end goal getting punk rock to places in the world it normally wouldn’t be found but on a DIY level.
We want to bring the zine back. The zine was always Dan’s baby and we hold no illusion that we will ever be able to crank it out like he did but we hope to try. The next PE release will be the second APPALACHIAN TERROR UNIT full length “We Don’t Need Them”. We plan to follow it up with an international compilation double LP that is already rolling. We feel that doing the comp is great way to work with a wide group of bands as well a good starting point in our “back to the roots” effort. Expect to hear more about it soon!
With both of us being huge record enthusiasts we plan on doing honest reviews of the records that come through the door and adding them to the site. So bands and labels send us your records! (Please only DIY political punk/hardcore/crust/metal – “no corporate bullshit!”). We plan on doing more in the way of promoting tours and festivals as well as collaborating more with political organizations raising both money and awareness through benefits and campaigns. We plan on working more with international labels to get more records overseas. So overall the biggest change to expect is more. More punk, more politics, more Profane Existence!
So yeah, when asked why we chose to take up the task the answer is simple “we love punk”. Both of us have been heavily involved in punk the last 20+ years and Profane Existence has always been an inspiration to us. We hope to restore PE to make it what it was and better-a daunting task that we happily accept. Make no mistake that although our main focus is for Profane Existence to continue along the same path, it’s still a new Profane Existence run by new people. As far as we are concerned it’s a fresh start. If you butted heads with PE in the past it was just that – in the past. Let’s be friends. If you contributed in the past and want to again, or if you never did but want to start, write us. Together – Lets make punk a threat again!
Until we get everything sorted out with the PE email. You can reach us through these.
La Armada will be heading on the road in october and november in support of this year’s “Crisis” EP (Profane Existence). The guys will be playing up and down from the Midwest to the east coast. They’ll be playing select dates with Weekend Nachos, Cove, KDC, Mama Ladilla, as well as a special show with hardcore legends Sick of it all. Check out the poster below for complete dates and take a friend to a show.
There is a story we never hear. It is the story of the wealthy developer who procures a piece of land to build on, and then upon finding out the land is sacred to local Indigenous people and has heritage sites on it, chooses to not build go ahead with construction. Instead the developer chooses one of many other paths open to them, they try to find other ways to get money back out of their investment or perhaps they go after the previous land owner for not disclosing this information previous to sale. Or maybe they even try to find ways to return at least a portion of that land to the Indigenous.
Yesterday I sat in on the Grace Islet injunction hearing; where an injunction was being sought by a wealthy land owner named Barry Slawsky against protesters – specifically Indigenous people – from being allowed near the site where he is constructing his dream home on top of a native burial ground.
I find that nearly every time discussion comes up about this conflict; someone (generally a white person) will inevitably make a joke that the developer clearly has never read a Steven King novel or watched a horror movie. For the most part I find the joke seems rather tasteless and insulting given that it is easy to joke about for people with nothing at stake, but if it was their own families graves they wouldn’t likely be making bad jokes about it. Yet there is a reason why these classic stories have become such a genre cliché; and the reason is simply because there is such a long history of rich people metaphorically shitting on the sacred sites of Indigenous people. If developers didn’t so routinely say “fuck the Indians,” King and others wouldn’t have made a career out of stories involving people getting terrorized by ghosts for doing precisely that. Perhaps those books should be through of more as wishful thinking…? Or perhaps it’s time to write a new story?
Yet todays court proceedings had more parallels to fiction and TV dramas. The lawyer for Barry Slawsky lived up to every negative stereotype of a lawyer in court today. He came off as utterly despicable, slimy, and dishonest. He was such a caricature he seemed almost like a real life version of the blue haired lawyer often seen representing Mr Burns on The Simpson’s.
His tone was repeatedly condescending, his arguments were colonial and racist, and on a number of occasions he was accused of presenting his speculations as accepted facts. He began by trying to undermine any claims to Aboriginal Title or Treaty Rights and asserting it was simply a case of private property rights and trespass. He was also caught for misrepresenting his own evidence at least once, and on another occasion for trying to cite as evidence a media article quoting unnamed people who were claiming the Cheif’s said something, as proof. In the end he even tried to accuse the judge of bias because the judge lives on Salt Spring Island, where the protests have been taking place. At another point, he claimed that the entire defense was a red herring because if they were trying to stop damage to the burial site – and damage meant work being done – it was a mute point cause the work had already been started. but the one that really got me was when he tried to claim the injunction was necessary for the protection and safety of the protesters who might get hurt…. Yet he was also exceptionally dull to listen to, to the point that I saw two people sitting near me fall asleep. The defense council were far better orators and had a strong case that more time was needed as they presented numerous thick affidavits that had just been filed or were still coming in.
In the end, the judge ruled in favor of adjournment; that the defendants (which included 2 First Nation Cheif’s amongst others) would have 4 weeks to prepare arguments before the injunction hearing moves forward. Many people including myself will be watching to see what comes of this. I am by no means an expert of any sort in the matters of law, nor in the traditions and practices of any of the local indigenous peoples, I presume from my limited knowledge of other supreme court cases that this will be a long and drawn out process, and todays court hearing will be one of many. I also would presume this won’t be the last of the protests, which I hope will continue until work is permanently stopped. It is an interesting time though, with recent court rulings that acknowledge the land as being stolen and sovereignty never having been extinguished which may influence the outcome of this case. While I remain cynical that a court system of a state built on stolen native lands and a history of genocide and ongoing colonization will suddenly rule in favor of Indigenous lands rather than capitalist development; It is only my hope that we as a society can choose to write a different story than the cliché ones we have been enacting for so long.
These are just my observations as an interested and concerned outsider. If you want to learn more about this conflict, the court case, the lands it is taking place on or the history, I highly suggest checking out the Grace Islet facebook page where the people organizing to stop this shit have been posting updates. I am sure that they will be needing support, which can come in many ways
An in depth look at the events that unfolded in Ferguson, Missouri following the police murder of Michael Brown, a black teenager. Also features an exclusive interview with former Black Panther, Ashanti Alston, about the state of black “America”, abolishing penile power and taking care of your peeps in the muthafuckin resistance.
Days before the band left for London, while still in Louisville, I sent Nico a note regarding how much I appreciated the spreadsheets he made for the upcoming Reagan Youth European Tour. He told me he was going to file that under “things he never thought a singer would say”. I then told him I was to be on bail while playing the next nine overseas shows. So much for breaking the mold.
Late July was a disaster. I had ten grand and two felonies hanging over my head. So I did what any reasonable person would have done. I caught a flight to Heathrow Airport in London on August 5th, 2014 to spread Dave’s gospel and better understand our world the best I could.
All the love in the world to my folks and brother who helped me all the way to the airport as opposed to awaiting jail sandwiches and juice boxes. I love you three goofballs. I really do.
The Flights and London, England
After tying up loose ends before leaving the country for fifteen daze, goodbyes and all, I was flown to O’Hare Airport in Chiraq. En route to London I noticed I was surrounded by young missionaries from the Church of Latter Day Saints (read Mormons). We chatted regarding beliefs, both mine and theirs. It was agreed the words of any good book makes sense and I was proud of them for taking on a two year mission across the Atlantic. They got Rome as their station, which should be interesting with the Vatican and all. I remember it was said “it is interesting at what lengths people will go for what they believe”. So true I thought as I tied up my turban and fell asleep.
The waiting room at Heathrow airport at 8am was not enticing. The bus to downtown London, however, was screaming my name. I was the first to land that morning, so I decided to see some sights. I had to visit Buckingham Palace and see those guards with those insane hats while keeping the notion of monarchy alive. I made friends on the coach and we went to watch people from all over the world as they gazed upon the palace. As I finished a cigarette under Queen Victoria Statue, I flicked the butt up over the steps and onto the sidewalk. All the faces from all over the world were now gazing at me. It was here I learned how Europe frowns upon littering and my first lesson on why the world finds America obnoxious. Turns out they kinda hit that one right on the head.
I mixed up everything and thought the first show was the following day. Turns out it was in a few hours. Meanwhile I got deeper into London than planned and fell out on a park bench. Everyone was meeting at Nico’s Dad’s flat and enough time had passed where I should have been in touch with the band. Without a phone, I caught a bus back to Buckingham in hope of finding a free computer in a cafe or something. While making a bus transfer, I noticed a brand new iPhone on the sidewalk right where the bus let off. Fukkin’ brilliant! I mention this only because THAT BECAME MY LIFELINE FOR THE ENTIRE TOUR. Paul has said more than once that God must be a Reagan Youth fan because things like this happen all the time on tour. My inbox was full of emails telling me “I hope you landed ‘cuz the show is today!” and “where the fukk are you?” etc…. Well, let’s rush along to Camden and start this crazy thing.
I arrived early at The Underworld and led backstage to properly crash out. Next thing I heard New York accents asking “is that Trey??” My sore eyes were glad to have seen Tibbie-X, Staten Island Greg, and Paul Cripple. We quickly caught up then went for a stroll along the streets to visit the shops before sound check. Well, we plug up and play, but the clubs still call it sound check. I was pleased to be around more or my own kind as Paul got into a dispute with a French shop owner after knocking over a display in search of a price tag. On the sidewalk he began to scream “nobody shop here!” oh so loud over and over again. Christ RY has landed in England. I met Tom, Nico’s father, and understood where my man Nico was coming from a tad bit more than before. Dr. Tom wrote very detailed volumes of Turkish history. Paul and Tom chatted so much pre-World War I Europe all I could do was listen in awe.
This gig was the first time we had all played since June with the Dead Kennedys. Plus we were sharing the stage with some old acquaintances, the Street Dogs. We caught up and laughed a bit. Tibbie began talking about prescription pills as I brewed this Somalian bodega tea in a coffee maker, which was acquired earlier that day. It caused me to pack and unpack my bag relentlessly for no good reason. We noticed that the bands were watching us in a quiet backstage area. Two new members replacing deceased originals while having meltdowns on substances must be difficult to ignore. Tib’z and I noticed this along the way in England, but when you are in a punk band from another land, what did we expect??
The show was amazing with a huge Wednesday night crowd, lots of love, and best of all, we played very well. Thank God we played the songs correctly, but then again I or the band won’t let the music or Dave’s message down; we respect it far too much. Afterwards Mike from Prague offered me a beer outside the venue. I had to say yes as he was the first European to openup about life in this new continent, its customs, and ways of the land. After the gig we caught the train and a cab to Dr. Tom’s, where we fell asleep in preparation for Blackpool and RebellionFest.
Northbound Transit & Blackpool, England
I awoke on the floor, sat up to overlook the front window, and was told the black van outside was here for the band. Tom Saunders, our driver and colleague, was here to take us within a hundred miles of the Scottish border, to a city near Manchester. Blackpool was its name and where RebellionFest was held. We said our goodbyes while boarding and… lights out. We got caught in traffic sometime later right as we hit Birmingham, the home of BLACK SABBATH!!! Hours later the sight and smells of the ocean were in the air when we entered, as Tom said, the Las Vegas of England.
We knocked on the door of our new lodgings to be greeted by Jerry, very jolly and had one tooth in his head. He ran the Del Rosa Inn, which was one of many to host the Punx in town for the Festival. As dusk hit the English beach community, we went to the Winter Gardens to mingle and catch The Dickies play. But first we settled into a single room with five beds and a sink, with the WC down the hall. It was all so Eurotrip I wanted to squeal! We followed the fish & chip stands that littered the boardwalk towards the sounds of drums.
Interesting side note, if you are ever in Great Britain – THE CARS COME FROM THE LEFT AND NOT THE RIGHT. Also, as the cars sped towards me while crossing an intersection – THERE ARE NO PEDESTRIAN RIGHT OF WAY LAWS. This makes more sense in practice. I was rolling my own cigarettes at this point since tobacco was so expensive. I vaguely understood why an influx of migrants fled to the new world to grow their own. ‘Cuz they be taxin’!
We mingled on the sidewalk as we learned the box office was closed. This meant it was too late to distribute wristbands. Yea, like this had stopped us before. Tibbie and I went out back where we ran into the Street Dogs. They slid their wristbands onto our forearms. Once more we felt like everything we said was anything but ordinary as they once again gave those baffled looks while we rambled on and on. We went inside and caught The Dickies set. Upon seeing the size of the arena (while getting lost over and over), we knew we had to up our game. When watching the band I heard a voice ask “Trey Oswald??”… Now who knows me in Blackpool? My man Mo from St Louis and Scene of Irony all the way from Missouri, that’s who! We all caught up and laughed before retiring to the Inn.
Reagan Youth was the second headliner on the second main stage. We went on before Stiff Little Fingers, who headlined the main stage. I read this on the program understanding we had a few moments to breakdown after our set before they played. Wait… one moment… we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s go back to the morning on the Friday of Rebellion…
We split up as we walked along the sunny boardwalk, where Tom and I ended up spending an afternoon together after breakfast. Tom explained some of the English’s views on the United States. It was similar in many respects, for each side saw the other as, how did we put it… hipper than the other. You know how in the States it is considered by many to be exotic to be British? Yea, same with American culture in England. We all want what we can’t have. Shame so many of our own people are so naive about a country who has such an amazing record as the British. Think about it! The sun still never sets on the English speaking empire. The country may have fared the sea more than land when you consider this. Also much respect to the country that brought us The Rolling Stones, The Who, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Sex Pistols, X, Damned, PIL, etc… point taken?? My company, the Guinness, and the Atlantic could have kept me all day but the fest awaits!!
I entered wearing my turban, denim, bandannas, while wrapped in the religious tapestry featuring the Virgin Mary as Lady de Guadalupe. We were taken all over the Winter Gardens and thru crowds of punx in search of the onsite radio station ran by Del. He sang in Peter and the Test Tube Babies. In typical RY fashion, we were also a day late for the interview. Del was cool enough to laugh it off. It’s also only punk rock, right?? Paul and I ate food in the backstage area and afterwards got lost every time we turned down a corridor.The size of this venue cannot be emphasized enough. The punx I gave all the wristbands to from the night before met up front by the stage. OK nerves and all go out the fukkin ‘window. We plugged in before the massive auditorium, packed to the brim, guardrail and monitors and giant spotlights and all.
The punx I met out on the sidewalk the prior evening when told by the bouncers we couldn’t enter the fest due to lack of wristbands were up front cheering us on as we opened with Degenerated. We have been sporadically playing bigger rooms as the band’s stability (consisting of STI Greg, bass mater general Tibbie-X, Keith Richard’s ghost Paul) and reception has increased. Not to mention people love these songs! I had learned to jump over the camera pit and guard rail and into the crowd without landing on the railing. However the lights are still too much, and wearing a turban while wrapped in a the Lady de Guadalupe tapestry did not help. It did look good in pictures and better looks on the faces and blogs reviewing the show wondering what this was all about. God is a Reagan Youth fan, we keep telling you!
More people I met along the weekend were coming to the front to show support. The friendly faces made the show easy as 1-2-3 aka A-B-C. The looks on the faces when I came hurling at them was even better. The band played quite well. This was our second time together since the DK tour in June. Being on stage at a festival made it all the more exciting. I tried my best and when I lost part of a tooth while on the floor I knew I was doing something right. Since guardrails keep singers onstage at these shows, it is always well received when I go to the floor. Those bouncers did an wonderful job keeping me plugged in, and trust me, I kept them busy. Cheerio mates! Another thing about going onto the floor, it meant people danced and they usually do not at festivals. The separation between band and crowd is a real thing that can hurt a show when punx are involved. Breaking barriers worldwide and do not do it alone.
Afterwards I hopped over the guardrail to walk through the ballroom in search of the main room to catch SLF. In an attempt to save time I tied my denim jacket, the religious tapestry and the turban somewhere on my body plus wore the bandannas and shirts the best I could. In what I thought was a quasi-messianic muscle car rock appeal ended up, after our set, to resemble more of a walking bodega. Loosies and all! Fukk it, I stuck out before so why not now?
Times like this I forget that I have walked into (as some have said) iconic punk status overnight (the lot of others have had less to say but only on message boards) and am not only a fan anymore. Before I could make it over the railing I was met by fans telling me this was the best set of the fest and the only one anyone danced along with. I took more pictures at my most unflattering – after the performance – where my hair is a trainwreck, my face is red, and one eye is open while the other is closed, and so on. These picture sets can now be found all over the world, I can safely say. After giving all the thanx inside me, I accompanied Conor and Nicola, who traveled from Ireland to be with us, only to see an Irish (Belfast counts right?) band play songs about inflammable material, with me. I was honored.
As the set went on and Conor’s generosity on the ciders did not subside, the band played song after song. This was cool, trust me, but the walking yard sale I had all over my body plus the daze thus far had been tiresome. So as Stiff Little Fingers played Barbed Wire Love I hit the eject button. With the help of the nearest punk, I was lifted to surf another audience only to go over the railing. I was led backstage and outside, met some Americans, some Russians, some everywhere you name its, and eventually bak with my band. With them were my new soon to be friends Ali and Colin. The couple are back and forth between the UK and Ireland. They were too impressed that some big band singer was talking with them. Please, I was honored they wanted to talk.
We retired to grab some more fish & chips and met more punx along the way who stopped us like we were the Rolling Stones or something. I gladly introduced myself and shared what sauces for chips I had, only to end up at the only all hours bar. I met back up with Colin and drank with the Rebellion Punx as the band caught a few hours sleep before our next flight. In company was Dickie Hammond (Leatherface & Angelic Upstarts!). OK so now I was giving the fanboy treatment and he gave me the casual, friendly approach. Touche! As the sun was rising it was time to find my bandmates, say my goodbyes, and catch a ride with Tom to the airport where we flew into Hanover, Germany, beginning the second and more grueling half of the European Tour… to be continued. What a gyp I know!!!
I mean it took four daze to get thus far. We had to split to story in two volumes.
-Tr’z Oswald (loudmouth, fan, sometimes a writer, lover & hater, human being, friend, brother, son, and one to never forget how lucky some can be and always one to remember how choices can get you to the top or in the gutter aka yin and yang) bids you tatty-bye.
Be on the lookout for “Profane Euro Punx Vol.2 European Redemption” coming sooner than later. Same profane time! Same profane channel!
Next time we meet we will…
*Learn why smoking onstage is more frowned upon than sieg heiling during our theme song!!
*Understand why Americans not only speak way too quick, but are hated by most of the free world due to the decisions of their leaders!!
*Meet a skunk named Mo whom we met in Germany while being walked on a leash!!
*Discuss how the East Berlin Airport will be something I will always remember!!
*Tell tales from the Autobahn and journeys with Giovanni de Italia (love you friend I do)!!
*…and more about spreading the peace punk gospel with Dave’s right hand man and the three he has chosen to help in continuing the ministry!!
Peace, love, unity & anarchy to the following…
Reagan Youth (Dave Insurgent, Paul Cripple, Tibbie-X, Staten Island Greg, and the others before me you are never forgotten), Ben Crew for trusting my judgement and words with the Profane site (you keep me writing despite my mounting personal turmoil), Tom Saunders for being a friend first and foremost, road dog, guide, etc, Nico and the British Westerdale family, you make it happen every time friend and we never forget it, the punx we met on the British Isle (names go on and on and we try to remember if not the name but the smiling faces), Landon and the gang at Covert Booking, the struggling masses, you, me, them, us, our dog Spot, and last if only to emphasize the point… my family aka Mom, Dad, and Zac – I’d be who knows where right now without you.
Any questions, concerns, fact checks, misquotes, message boards still too impersonal, or want to simply say hello? I’m still down with the drones at Google.
Matt Sidney is an artist from Victoria, B.C. Canada. His drawings are powerful, dark and unsettling. They give the viewer a disturbed, though unspecified gasp of revulsion. We felt that finding out what makes someone that creates such imagery tick was too much to pass up. This interview was conducted by Karl online.
P/E: How/when did you get into drawing? What led you to your specific medium?
Matt: I drew constantly, just for my own satisfaction. I never showed it to anyone. never did a full piece until 2 years ago. No one within the punk scene or my friends knew i did art until i put some drawings up in Copy Curse (artshow/ punk show) and Mark from Six Brew Batha saw it, I’ve known him for a bit, and he asked if i wanted to do something for them. which ended up being their 7″ with Suffering Mind. which got my step in the door. I’ve always liked using pen, its very controllable. I’ve always just liked lines. prefect disgusting lines. Nic Blinko is my biggest inspiration. which is very obvious to those who know his work. Stephen Gammell, his work too. Any great painters, I always liked looking at their sketches more so, just for the rough sketchy lines. I’ve always liked stuff that was ambiguous and disturbing. Stuff that makes you uncomfortable. Music, art film. So naturally most everything i do is dark looking. I’d like to be able to use it in a more political way. I love what Gord Hill has done with his comics. and other work. And Tomi Ungerer’s political posters in the 70s were so harsh and packed a punch i would love to do something like that. but in a more political context.
P/E: What do you see as the function or role of visual art in punk? Is it as integral as music?
Matt: It for sure has its part to play. I feel most people appreciate good album artwork, and for me, and I’m sure other artists who listen to punk or just music in general, it solidifies classic albums. Axegrinder’s Rise Of The Serpent Men, Napalm Death Scum, Bolthrower In Battle There Is No Law, Deviated Instinct Rock and Roll Conformity, even Miles Davis Bitches Brew. It’s for sure something that if you are unfamiliar with the band, will grab youre attention. but most certainly not as integral as the music itself. A great album is a great album no matter the cover art.
P/E: How long does it take to complete a piece and what do you think technology’s impact has been on art? Kind of a broad question I know.
Matt: It depends on the piece. I do alot of work in a small amount of time. The longest it’s taken was about 24 hours, and spread over a few days, but that was pen and ink and it was much larger then what I usually do. My normal size ink drawings take about 5 hours. On technology, like most everything there are positives and negatives. I personally am not a fan of digital artwork, i just feel it looks so clean and hollow. Though technology also allows me to make several cheap prints for people to have, or to be able to sharpen it up and fix it, to be used for album covers and what not. Technology, yes, is a broad term. For sure destroying the art of film, which has never been an area I’ve wanted to explore but i do appreciate good films. and directors who had to have a team of artists to physically create things.
P/E: I guess more specifically I am referring to the position artists are put into in relation to the new album formats ie digital vs physical.
Matt: Yeah not a fan of digital. I myself would never use a computer to create art.
P/E: But the growing obsolescence of material physical albums and the growing dominance of iTunes and the like, where will an artist fit in?
Matt: Mostly the punk scene. Almost everyone puts out physical copies. Either a tape or 7″ or a 12″. I prefer a physical copy without a doubt. Like i know for my band, we are going to put out a demo just online for free, and once we get material we are comfortable with we will release a physical copy.
P/E: So what is next for Matt Sidney?
Matt: Not entirely sure. I’m thinking about starting a new house with some people. Hopefully to be used as a political/ venue/ arts collective.
“The drifting night / begets my footsteps / I press this pavement / until my feet scrape / in the back of my head I / saw you in the back of / my head I found a knife / dangling from your face” – Pg. 99
ffffffFFFUUUUUUCKK. I shoot bolt upright in the midst of a terribly vivid nightmare and find myself both relieved and disappointed all at once as I hear the pattering of the rain on my tent. Relieved to be out of the nightmarish hellscape that was playing in my head, but disappointed because now I know I face another difficult morning, and probably another difficult day. I decide not to dawdle, the longer I stay warm in my sleeping bag the less I want to leave, and this kind of situation can be an incredibly slippery slope. I have a long ride today, since I didn’t get as far as I intended to yesterday, so to stay on schedule I really need to put in a solid day of riding.
I pack up most of my things, put on my now slimy and still-soaked shoes that I stupidly left out in the rain all night, and patted along the muddy path to the bathroom in my sleeping outfit to brush my teeth. Every step I take I feel my toes squish in my canvas sneakers and pretty soon a sickening, off-colored bubble of foam starts to form from the toes of my shoes from all the friction. I spot Dan and Zach at the entrance to the showers and I greet them. I’m incredibly fortunate to see them it turns out, as I was in such a rush to leave Beverly Beach yesterday that I forgot my Glucosamine, MSM and vegan multi-vitamins I take for my joints. Zach thoughtfully packed them in his bag, carried them all this way and now hands them over. Vegans stick together! Turns out they had to get a regular campsite last night, as all the hiker/biker sites were either taken by the time they got there, or horribly flooded from the heavy rain. They had to bite the bullet and shell out the money for a regular campsite, which is never fun. Zach checks his phone for vegan spots in Reedsport, since that’ll be the next town we roll through. He always seems to use the seemingly now obsolete website Happy Cow, which I actually hadn’t even thought about it in years since it never gets updated. Often times you check that site for vegan friendly places in towns and upon arriving at the restaurants you find out that it’s been closed for 5 years. I make jabs at him every once in a while for still using the site, but I respect the fact that people want to keep it alive.
I walk back to my tent and reluctantly dress back into my already wet and freezing cold clothes. At least I don’t have to go through the whole process of getting soaked again, I guess. I packed as quickly as my cloudy head would allow me and I pushed my bike out of the now mucky campsite and out of the state park altogether. Still regretting not being able to check out the sand dunes yesterday that lay not 100 ft from where my tent was. There’ll be a next time I’m sure, but this thought brings me no comfort unfortunately.
Biking soon warms me up and I forget about the rain for a little while. I make it into Reedsport, which definitely has a very southern Oregon feel to it. I pull over at a Mcdonalds to steal their wifi and I spot the Canadian bike trio I saw up in Lincoln City inside at a booth. I’m pretty sure I recognized their tent last night at the campsite as I was settling down for bed, but I’m not positive. I’m not totally sure either if they actually ate any food here or if they were just getting out of the rain, but I’d be amazed if they actually ingested any of that garbage and intended to bike the rest of the day. Ethical issues with Mcdonalds aside, the most iron-clad stomach couldn’t hold down their food and bike 80 miles afterward, this I’d be willing to bet on. As I was checking for tea houses nearby they all poured out of the Mcdonalds and one of the women greeted me. They told me they’ll be staying in a cabin tonight at a KOA site just to get out of the rain and dry themselves. KOA is the biggest ripoff campground chain that has ever existed, and I implore you NOT to spend your money on that garbage. They managed to find a cabin there though for $80 that they said they’d split between the 3 of them. They assured me it was a good deal, but I remain unconvinced. Nothing good can come of a KOA campground, even if it means sleeping indoors for a night.
I internet finds me a natural food store up the road and so I bike over and lock up out front, leaving my panniers on the bike. There’s nothing all that valuable in them, and at this point I’m confident that the likelihood of someone robbing me in these small towns is pretty low. I slosh in through the double doors, leaving a trail of muddy water behind me. I try to walk in circles in the store to try and disguise the fact that it’s me, but I doubt that it worked. I find the coffee shop in the back and order a hot chai from the incredibly unfriendly proprietor. I kept trying to be cheery and gracious but I was met with indifference at every turn. As I take a seat a tourist couple comes in and the woman uses the bathroom, but as she’s about to exit she neglects to buy anything. She seemed genuinely interested in getting something from the lunch counter, but she audibly complained that they were sold out of soup. Immediately the cashier fires back “So what, you just use my bathroom and don’t buy anything???”. Flabbergasted she gives half an explanation and then quickly walks out. “Dude, what IS this place?” As I settle in my chair and take my first sip of tea, Careless Whisper by George Michael comes on the overhead. I decide that life is ok in this moment, as the corniest saxophone line that has ever been written wails across the cafe.
I make my visit to the unfriendly health food store brief, and as I leave I reconsider my position about the “one meal out” blanket rule I had for this trip. I noticed in my online search earlier that there was a chinese restaurant at the end of town that seemed to have a lot of vegan options. I’m not going to lie either, the photos made their food look irresistible. I decide to treat myself considering the night I had, and the day that lay ahead of me. I parked my bike near a booth window so I could keep an eye on my stuff, and the server was friendly and said she was glad to see me out riding my bike. Another table full of older folks nearby jumped into the conversation and said the same, that they were glad I was out here on my bike getting exercise and seeing the coast. Then they all started talking amongst themselves about biking and how important it is for personal and environmental health, with the server encouraging them to get bikes and start riding around town, even if it’s just “biking to church on Sundays!” (I do not recommend this destination). She was super helpful when it came to the menu too, and when I ordered a tofu dish she warned me that it had beef broth in it (seriously? why??). She told me it could be made vegan though, and as she entered the kitchen I heard her shout at full volume “HEY JEFF HE’S A VEE-GUN. NO BEEF BROTH!” and heard an affirmative sound in response, not unlike a grunt.
My food turned out to be glorious, and I drank the entire pot of green tea they gave me. It was a good idea to stop here. No regrets here at all. Even better is I look outside and see the sun start to poke out from the clouds! Knowing Oregon this is going to be short lived, but for the moment I’m glad that I don’t have to go back out into the storm. Out front I change out of my wet socks and into my last dry pair. My shoes are still soaked, but I fear getting a rash if I continue on with my socks as wet as they are.
I leave Reedsport on a good note and continue on through the forest with the sun shining weakly down on me. I finally feel my rain shell start to dry, and within an hour my shorts are almost completely dried out as well. I start to make good progress again despite the howling wind threatening to blow me over into the road. Pretty soon I’m racing down the side of a hill, holding one hand on the handlebars and the other on the top of my head to prevent my hat from flying off. All of a sudden I hear a massive *ROARRRR* as a motorcycle flies up from behind me, dips into my emergency lane and comes within a foot of hitting me while revving his engine as aggressively as he could. I hold my ground in the lane and try not to be shaken by it, if I lose control of my bike at this speed there’s no way to get it back and I’ll end up going over a railing into who knows what. As he passes I see it’s one of those typical Harley Davidson-loving, cool dad-vacationing, wild-hogs watching fuckers that I see every once awhile at campsites. His motorcycle is purple, with a stupid looking tribal decal on the back and a woman riding behind him who he was probably trying to impress. I am seething with fucking anger, especially since this piece of shit is supposed to be on my side. Two wheels, you fucking bastard. I burn the image of his bike in my mind, hoping and wishing to myself that we happen to stay at the same campsite this evening so I can greet him with a face-full of bear mace which he so rightfully earned.
I reach another bridge, which typically means I’ll soon be entering a town. This time it’s North Bend, and as per usual I hit the “Bikes on Roadway” button to alert cars of my presence. I decide to bike on the sidewalk as I have on the other bridges so far, even though the signs advise you not to. I find it to be much safer than riding in the road on some of these bridges. I’m greeted by stormy winds that I fight with on the narrow sidewalk so I don’t topple off the 2 ft high curb into the road. The bridge is so long it takes me about 20 minutes to get all the way across it, and with such intense focus it’s a relief to relax my arms as I roll off the sidewalk and into the road on the other side. North Bend seems nice, and it reminds me of a mix of equal parts Astoria and North Lake Tahoe, if you’ve been to either. I also get a strange military feel from it, but I think that’s due in part to a Coast Guard Helicopter swooping low over the town over and over again.
After a brief ride across town I find a Safeway and park my bike. Dan, one of the Seattle guys, joked with me that it seemed that all the riff raff in these small towns seem to congregate around the Safeway parking lot. I decide to test his theory as I eat lunch on a bench out front. Sure enough I see a lot of sketchy characters drift through in my half hour there, including a bearded man with a basketball leering at a couple of teenage women, crouched forward, and talking to himself while holding the basketball at crotch level. I also see a woman yelling at her kids as they’re unloading the cart into her fancy SUV. The little girl is standing halfway on the cart and the mother starts to yell “STOP it! You’re starting to make me really MYADUHHH!” in a way that leads me to believe she’s shouted that way since she was a child.
Breezing through North Bend, and passing over a small section of Coo’s Bay, I finally find myself in Charleston. Here I teeter across an insanely windy bridge as I make my way into the tiny fishing village. The town reeks of fish and it instantly rubs me the wrong way as I see a “breakfast barn” with 5 ft tall letters spelling “BACON” on the side of their roof. I stop at a convenience store to use the bathroom briefly, see a few really depressed looking teenagers and decide I can benefit nothing from hanging around this place.
Soon I’m climbing a hill on the south end of Charleston which encompasses the last few miles before my sleeping spot for the evening. I come to a fork that I don’t remember clearly from the map, so I take out the now tattered and soggy piece of paper to take a brief glance and get my bearings. As I’m standing in the road partly up the hill, a kid on a mountain bike comes FLYING down the hill past me, screaming as he passes “THE STORM IS COMING, MAN!” I instinctively wave and thank him as I take a look to the sky, where near-black clouds are forming and the wind begins to howl even stronger. Fucking shit, what’s next?!? I hop on my bike and start working my way up the hill as quickly as my legs will allow to race against the impending doom looming above me. Eventually I reach the turnoff for the state park, which is about 2 miles off the main bike route, meaning that it’s 4 miles roundtrip to get out here. According to my map this place is the only park in the area that has hot showers, so I think it’s going to be worth the extra distance and effort. I follow the signs for Bastendorf Beach, now nearly frantic as I power up into the state park. Eager to set my tent up as quickly as I can before the sky opens up and I spend another night in a soaking wet tent. The hectic winds are already spraying me with light moisture so I know a heavier rain is coming soon.
After my last and frantic sprint up the hill into the park I finally roll into the campground and bike straight toward the check in station. The building that normally houses a park ranger that you check in with upon entry is closed, so I bike over to a self-check in station a few yards past it. SHIT! It’s cash only, and I don’t see any information about hiker/biker sites on the campground. I think as I realize there’s no card to fill out credit card information. Unfortunately for, and unwisely of me I didn’t stop to get cash out before I got here. There also wasn’t any indication on the map about any of the cheap hiker/biker stations, but that’s not unusual as the park rangers usually have a difficult time locating them on the state park maps as well.
I see the camp host scooting around in a golf cart near another area of the campground and I wave her over. A small girl is running alongside the cart as well, who I assumed was here with her family. When the golf cart reaches me the woman jerks the wheel to the right to come to an abrupt stop just as the little girl side steps to her left while running alongside. The cart comes screeching to a halt and misses taking the girl out by literal inches. “SEE! That’s why you can’t run alongside the cart, honey!”. I try to return my eyes to their normal size and get a hold of what I’m sure was clearly a very shocked look on my face before I start to speak to her. I had no time to waste, so our conversation is as follows:
“Hey, how’s it going? I don’t see any information on here about hiker/biker sites on the campground. Can you show me where they are?”
“Oh… yeah… well there aren’t any hiker spots here.”
“Well, on this state map I have *unfolding my map* it says this place has the cheap hiker/biker sites.”
“Oh, well then yes… yeah we have those. You can camp in any of these spots on this loop behind me.”
“yeah, but they’re not hiker/biker are they? They’re not listed that way on this map and there are cars over there. It says here it’s $16 to camp instead of the usual $5.”
“Well… yeah… they’re uh… hiker spots. Just choose whichever one you want and fill out the card. They’re $16.”
“Uh… ok… thanks”
As she drives off panic starts to hit me. I don’t have any cash, I’m miles from anywhere I could get it, and even if I had it there’s no way I’m paying $16 just to camp here for the night. It’s too stormy to even have a fire, so essentially I’d just be paying to sleep in a dirt lot and use the shower. I get back on my bike and start to pedal past the sites in the camp loop, seeing that the camp host went off in the direction of her trailer. I bike to the far corner to a campsite that seems to have the most privacy; the back of the site touches some open woods, and on either side of it are head-high bushes that obstruct the view to most of the camp. I set my bike on it’s kickstand and stand there for a minute, weighing my options and trying to think as quickly as I can. The sun’s going down, and it must be around 8 o’clock at this point, so I wonder if the host is done with her rounds for the night. I could potentially just set up camp, sleep here for the night, and get up early like I’ve been doing and leave before she even has the chance to check on me. The storm could also be a deterrent for her as well, since the wind has now picked up to an eerily forceful strength. No, I think. She already saw me roll in here and there’s no way she’s not going to come by later to make sure I paid. Ugh. At last I glance behind me and gaze off into the woods. There’s a small and rarely used path leading up and over a grassy hill into a very evil looking forest. Without hesitation I grab my bike and start pushing it down the path, momentarily glancing over my shoulder to make sure the older guy camping solo next to my site can’t see where I’m headed. As quickly and as silently as I’m able, I drag my bike up and over the grassy hill, and head in a straight line out into the dark woods.
A short distance into the woods I come to the rim of a cliff. Just below me is the road I biked in on, and there’s a small patch of open and level ground that I deem good enough to pitch my busted tent on. I clear some logs and debris out of the patch and realize the ground is incredibly soft due to the thick top layer of moss. I set up my tent as best as I can in the howling wind, and quickly place everything (bike included) inside. On nights where I felt questionable about the safety of my bike I’ve brought it inside my spacious 3 person tent, and tonight is no exception. After loading all of my gear into my tent I stand and hover just outside of it, feeling extreme anxiety about being discovered out here. I’m filled with dread thinking about having to repack all of my gear, bike the few miles back into town and have to find another place to sleep in this storm. My paranoia only increases as I hear children playing and yelling off somewhere in the campground, terrified that they might run out into my guarded nook in the forest. I could just see them returning to their campsites to regale their parents with tales of a strange, bearded, tattooed man sleeping illegally out in the woods. Well, to be fair I really have no idea if sleeping out here is legal or not. If I’m discovered I decide that I will assure whoever finds me that I somehow have the states permission to be camping out here on an undesignated plot. Who knows, it could even be true. That doesn’t matter really though, if the camp host doesn’t know what a hiker/biker site is I’m willing to bet that she doesn’t know the law concerning public lands, and regardless of what the law actually says I’ll still attempt to bullshit my way out of it. I’m willing to fight tooth and nail to just put an end to this day and be able to sleep peacefully.
I stand outside my tent studying my map for about 45 minutes, and I decide that if by 9:30 I still haven’t seen anyone come up and over that hill than I’ll be safe for the evening. This is of course a totally arbitrary deadline, other than having a placebo effect on my ability to settle in and finally get comfortable. So I check my map and mentally calculate how many days I’ll have till I’m in California to keep my mind occupied, but the thought of that even overwhelms me. I then focus on my days ride tomorrow, which is around 55 miles spanning from the edge of Charleston to a campsite just south of Port Orford called Humbug Mountain State Park. The forecast calls for rain again tomorrow, according to a sign I saw at the entrance to the park. Every day of this trip so far I’ve decided the night before how far I’m willing to ride the next day, always having fall back places to camp if for whatever reason I’m unable or unwilling to reach the park I’m trying to get to. According to my map there are a few state parks between here and Port Orford, but they’re all miles off my main route and from what I can tell not worth the extra effort, so it looks like it’s all or nothing out to Humbug Mountain.
9:30 comes and goes, and I finally decide to climb into my tent and settle in for the night. The wind is still howling and rain is starting to fall steadily; though the gnarled, dry trees that make up this forest are doing a decent job of protecting me from the elements. I still fear that a dead branch is going to break free from the tree and land on my tent, but that’s something I’ll worry about when the time comes. I get into my sleepy shorts (aka basketball shorts, because I’m a bro) and climb into my sleeping bag. Now that I’ve been off my bike for a couple hours I actually start to feel the cold air again so I’m thankful to have the 0 degree mummy bag I brought along. I realize I haven’t drank enough water today as I’m feeling strangely dehydrated, which is odd considering how damp I’ve been for the last 48 hours. I pull out the book I’ve been reading on this trip, “Different Seasons” by Stephen King, and I read a considerable amount of one of the 4 novellas in the book called “Summer of Corruption”. Without giving away any of the story, it is fucking brutal, and the suspense was amplified greatly by the storm rattling my tent and the silhouettes of the gnarled trees moving around outside the canvas. Every branch cracking or leaves brushing the forest floor put me on alert for being discovered, and only added to the suspense of my book. This is where my life has lead me this evening, reading this intense book in the middle of a primeval forest and braving a storm with nothing but a rickety fabric tent and a sleeping bag. As unpleasant as a lot of this day has been, I recognize that it is nights like this one that serve as a bench-marker for the times that I’ve felt truly alive, regardless if that was a pleasant experience or not. I envy your safe sleeping quarters this evening my friends, but I’m still thankful to be out in the world tonight. Sleep well.
“This is why events unnerve me / they find it all, a different story / notice whom for wheels are turning / turn again and turn towards this time” – New Order
I awake to the sound of songbirds and running water from the creek just a few feet from my head. It’s probably about 8 am or so, and I rise feeling calm and rested as the sun just barely peeks out from behind the trees. There’s not much to do or see in this part of Tillamook State Forest, so I end up making my morning brief by eating a couple protein bars, pack my things up in about 15 minutes time and head on my way.
It’s about a mile walk uphill on this unpaved road before I get back to the main highway, and it is a constant struggle to push my bike up this steep hill with loose gravel under my feet. Last night I was too tired to care about hitting rocks and potholes in the road on my way down, so I stayed on my bike and coasted down; but now on my way back up I’m amazed I didn’t pop a tire or break a spoke in doing so. I need to be more careful about things like that, I’m not used to biking with this much weight and I could ruin my wheels even before I get to the coast; this thing has got to really last me.
I make it up to the highway in about 15 minutes with my arms already worn out and little rocks in the bottom of my shoes, a perfect recipe to drive you completely insane. I stop for a moment to clean out my shoes and socks in the cool morning air, mount my bike and then continue on toward the summit. According to the map I’m just a few miles from the peak, but none of that seems to matter in this moment as I’m met with an immediate and extremely steep grade right out of the gate of the state park. It’s not even 9 am and here I am sweating profusely and greedily gasping for air due to the elevation change. Thankfully traffic is lighter this morning, and it certainly makes the difference on some sections of the hill where there’s no shoulder, or the shoulder is obstructed by debris, or in some cases where the shoulder disappears and drops 100 feet down the side of a cliff. Definitely not nerve-wracking at all… not even a little bit.
After much swearing, pleading and sweating the ground levels out and I approach the summit. I know this because the summit is clearly marked with the elevation by a very official looking sign; something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. Though it could be just something I’ve just never noticed because riding in a car doesn’t necessarily prompt you to look for things like that. Even though this is only day 2 and I’ve hardly made any progress on the trip as a whole, this still feels like a considerable victory and I feel triumphant as I pass the elevation sign. This is the highest elevation I’ll need to climb on the entire trip, and it tops out at a massive 1,586 feet. The air up here is so thin that even now that I’m resting for a moment I still feel on the verge of passing out. I stop for an extensive photo op at the sign and then continue on my way down the other side of the mountain.
All of a sudden I’m thrust from making slow and labored progress up the side of this mountain to flying down the other side. Never have I climbed a hill that had such a dramatic and abrupt transition as this one. I’m flying past rest stops, parked cars, over bridges with no emergency lane and even taking the car lane for myself on occasions when the shoulder didn’t provide enough room. I’m nearly matching the speeds of cars on the road and it’s both an exhilarating and terrifying sensation. I don’t pedal for at least an hour, and I’m riding the brakes most of the way down to try and keep my speed at a manageable level. Another promise I made to friends before I left was to watch my speed coming down the capes and mountains here, haha. I consider myself a bit of a thrill seeker so I’m tempted to see how fast I can get this thing down the side of this mountain, but I know I’ll disappoint a couple people back home if I go flying off a cliff at 50 miles an hour. The compromises we make for our friends, am I right?
Eventually I make a stop at a place called “Lee’s camp store” which was marked on one of my maps as being the only convenience store in the state park. This stop is coming not a minute too soon as my water jug is nearly empty and I needed to pick up a couple of small things that I forgot to grab before I left Portland. I get a gallon of water from “Lee”, the proprietor, who is actually not Lee at all. I think his name is Gary or something; I overheard him talking to a regular customer at one point. I also grab a lighter for future campfires (one of the few uses straightedge kids actually have for them) and an impulse buy of a tiny packet of Emergen-C just to ensure that the cold air last night won’t give me a cough. The instructions encourage you to mix these Emergen-C packets in water, but doing it that way tastes horrible, so I usually just eat them dry and let the sand-like granules dissolve in my mouth and foam up like I have rabies. Usually Icrack a goofy smile at someone while doing so as well. It is both childish and delicious, these things of course not being mutually exclusive. I recommend giving it a try.
I get a lot of odd looks from the locals as I’m taking a rest on the bench out front, and I assume it’s not just because I have a mouthful of foam. It’s probably a combination of the foam, my smell, my ancient and overloaded bike and the Conflict “Ungovernable Force” sleeveless shirt I’m wearing that has a photo of riot cops getting their asses’ kicked. They probably don’t get a lot of people biking down this highway and climbing that mountain too often either, which is understandable because climbing that thing was total bullshit.
After my brief rest I continue on my way down the mountain, quickly passing the 2 other state campsites on that touch Highway 6 and eventually the grade starts to level out. I can tell I’m getting close to the coast because I can smell the salty air and feel a slight ocean breeze blowing through this valley. I grew up a 10 minute walk from the ocean in Southern California, and whenever I come out to the coast it always feels like I’m heading home. Unfortunately this also means that the headwind starts to increase in strength, but I don’t mind as the breeze is refreshing and cooling me off after a long day in the sun. I eventually get spit out of the valley after following a beautiful and roaring river for miles, with houses on the other side that are only accessible by bridge, and bottom out in some farmland on the outskirts of Tillamook. The wind is now roaring against me, and fighting it is like pedaling through mud. This wind immediately goes from refreshing to irritating over the course of an hour, and what’s worse is that a bump I hit on my way down the mountain knocked my back wheel out of true, giving it a slight wobble. It’s not bad enough to effect the brakes or how the bike handles, but just seeing the wobble bothers me enough to where I obsessively look back at it to see if it’s getting worse every few miles.
Man, it stinks out here too. I mean, it really, REALLY stinks out here, and the refreshing sea air can’t mask it in the slightest. There are dairy farms on either side of this stretch of highway for miles, which gives Tillamook it’s reputation for being such a foul smelling town. The TIllamook cheese factory is out here as well, which I’m sure you’ve heard of or seen their products in stores, and from billboards I pass I learn they offer tours across their production line. I’m sure though that they don’t offer to take you out to the barns where female cows are forcefully impregnated, kept in small enclosures and eventually have their babies ripped away from them as they scream and struggle to protect their young. I’m sure they also don’t tell you that if the cow is born female that they’re sent off to be impregnated as well and live out the same fate as their mothers. Lastly, they CERTAINLY wouldn’t tell you that if the calf is born male they’re sold off to a veal farm or raised as veal right there on the same grounds. It’s truly a despicable industry, but I digress. All I’ll say is the best way to put an end to violence such as this is to go vegan and leave the cheese out of your diet completely. Otherwise you end up with smelly towns, sad mother cows, tortured calves and rich, asshole ranchers. It’s a losing combination, I assure you.
I was in the fight of my life against this headwind, but eventually I power through it and arrive in downtown Tillamook. This town is a lot busier than I expected it to be, but I realize when I arrive in the city center that it serves as a junction for a few major roads, and also is a necessary fly over if you’re going anywhere up or down the coast. Highway 6 deadends at the 101, which will be my Highway for the rest of the trip. I’m thankful for that, as the 101 is one of the most beautiful and scenic highways in the world, in my humble opinion. I coast through downtown for a bit looking at the various tourist shops, but I’m mostly interested in finding a cafe with wifi, tea and a bathroom; the three basic needs I have when stopping in town. I also promised a couple folks that since I don’t have a phone on this trip that I’ll check in with them via email at least once every two days, even if it’s just to say “hey, I’m not dead”. This is actually a responsibility that comes up quite often in my life, if you can believe it.
I spot a Safeway at the edge of town, and across the street from it I see a small cafe with a big “WE HAVE WIFI” sign hanging out front. Business owners – be sure to advertise this fact; you will at the very least be receiving my patronage when I’m traveling. I lock up my bike and decide to visit the cafe first, and while entering I realize that it’s just a single diners table and a few booths in what looks like the hallway of an indoor mall. Kind of an odd set up, but not too surprising as these small towns usually have multiple businesses that share one big room like this. I sit in a booth and order a cup of tea and the only vegan and gluten free thing on the menu – the tomato soup. At first I was a little bummed to only see one thing on the menu I could eat, but the tomato soup turns out to be amazing, and I regret not ordering a bigger portion as soon as I’m done. I check my email and write to concerned parties as to my whereabouts (i.e. I’m still not dead) and try to cool down from the difficult ride I just finished before I get up to leave. I tip the server generously, as she’s the only one working and was extremely helpful with finding me vegan stuff on the menu. Also, as a general rule you should just tip service workers. That’s how they make a living. Seriously. Give them money.
I leave my bike locked up out in front of the cafe and cross the street to make a stop at the Safeway for supplies. While crossing the parking lot I see a red-faced cyclist with two touring bikes parked next to him. I get the impression he’s taking 5 while his touring buddy is inside getting snacks. I give him a wave and he waves back as I drag my heavy bags through the entrance of the store.
With my business concluded at Safeway I return to my bike and follow my map to the state park I’ll be sleeping at tonight, a place just South West of here called Cape Lookout. “Cape” on the Oregon Coast is just a fancy word for “huge hill next to the ocean that you have to climb on your bike”, and that’s exactly what lay in store from me as soon as I leave town. Having already had a pretty strenuous day due to the headwind, this was a challenge for my leg muscles. There are a lot of little side routes posted on my map that are deemed safer and more scenic for cyclists than some sections of the 101, but in this moment I start to doubt the decision to take this route and the added few miles it requires. My cares drift away though as they usually do when I start descending the other side of the cape, and after I leave the more populated areas of Tillamook behind I enter the state park, where the view of the ocean is breathtaking. I mean, it is so unbelievably beautiful out here that I can hardly describe it, so I might as well spare you in hopes that you’ll travel out here on your own to experience it for yourself. It’s late in the day, so the sun is starting to drift closer to the ocean, soon to be entering what us photographers like to call “the magic hour”. In this hour, with the wind blowing past me as I’m descending the cape, I have a view of the most dramatic landscape my eyes have ever had the privilege to be laid upon. My only regret in this moment is not making enough room for my SLR camera so I could take photos.
As I’m enjoying myself and bombing the cape down the other side, I slowly start to feel the wind sweep underneath the brim of my hat and begin lifting it off my head. Before I can get a hold of it, it goes flying off me and sails through the air as my hand comes down on the top of my hatless head. FUCK!!! I gently apply the brakes and dip to the left to make a u-turn and start the climb back to where my hat lay in the road. Upon arrival, and as I’m trying to set my bike on the kickstand in just a way so it won’t tip over, I see an SUV climbing up and over the hill and approach my hat at a considerable speed. I decide it’s all or nothing at this point, so I ditch my bike and bolt out into the road, grab my hat, and frantically run back to the other side again to dodge the car without looking back, thinking looking over my shoulder would only slow me down. I realize how foolish this act was as I look up and see that the guy had slowed and then completely stopped on the side of the road to allow me to grab it. I then remember hm, sometimes people stop for you when you run out into the middle of the road, since (and I don’t know why) I just assumed this person would run over my hat for whatever reason. The guy then pulls up alongside me and rolls down his window, just as I notice a “Bike Portland” decal stuck to the side of the car. I’m not sure what that company is exactly, but I agree with the sentiment. YEAH! BIKE PORTLAND! He asks if I’m from Portland as well and I respond that I am. He takes a glance at my bike and says “interesting set up!”, which is both a nice way of saying “what were you thinking when you made that thing?” and also what I imagine to be a common phrase I’ll be hearing on this trip from this moment on. Unfortunately, not everyone can afford a fancy bike setup, and I hope that people realize that as I’m kicking their ass climbing these capes with a beat up old Schwinn while they’re on their $1,000 bikes.He seems nice enough though, and I’m sure he didn’t mean any offense, so I remain polite. We have a pleasant exchange, aside from the awkward pauses between topics of conversation where we either just kinda stare at each other or a car squeezes past us, irritated that we’re in the road. He’s apparently taking a group from PDX on a bike tour down certain sections of the coast. He drops them off and they bike down the 101 and then meet up with him again at the campsites. Seriously? People pay for the privilege of doing that? Do they not know how easy it is to get a map and do it yourself? I finally end the conversation as I’m eager to get to the campground and wish him a good day and a “maybe I’ll see you at the hiker-biker sites!”, which is another exchange that I think will become very prevalent on this trip.
I roll into Cape Lookout with a fair amount of daylight left, and I seem to be the only one here so far. The hiker-biker sites are cheap here as usual, $6 as opposed to the expected $5, but I can’t complain as the campground is really well maintained and the biker sites are far away from the the inane conversations and horrible country music being blasted over in the RV area. There are also free showers here, which are the two sweetest words one can hear after biking all day in the hot sun. Soon after I get my camp set up, I’m joined by two other guys claim the spot directly across from mine. I recognize one of the guys as the fellow I said hello to at the Safeway back in town. They seem like nice dudes, so when I head out to take a shower I ask if they can keep an eye on my stuff for me, since the showers are a 5 – 10 minute walk from this section of the campground. They give me the thumbs up and once I reach the bathrooms I have the most exhilarating and refreshing shower of my life. The water is only one temperature, which is luke-warm, but I feel like the luckiest guy in the world in this moment.
After I return to the campsite, I scrounge up the wood left behind in my fire pit and build a decent sized fire to cook my dinner. After I heat up my Masala and a small box of quinoa pasta I got in town, I wash out my bike shorts at the water tap and hang them on a stick over the flames to dry them out. I sit and enjoy my food while keeping an eye on my shorts to make sure they don’t fall off the flimsy and stick and into the fire. After I’m done eating I head next door to chat with the two guys across from me, feeling like it’s important to familiarize myself with other folks I’ll be sharing spaces with. Their names are Zach and Dan and they’re both from Seattle, and it turns out Zach is vegan as well and knows some folks that I’m familiar with from California. They’re both friendly guys, but as I fear more and more that I’m encroaching on someone’s personal space and their private vacation I head out and take a walk around the grounds to see the sites. There are some pretty awesome sand dunes on the other end of the park according to this map I got at the front desk, so I hop on my bike to ride to the other side of the park and check them out. After riding with so much weight on the front, riding my bike like this feels awkward and my arms uncontrollably shake from side to side. It’s the strangest feeling, almost as if my arms are flailing about as if independent from my body. Thankfully I don’t crash and I make my rounds before returning to my tent. My tent itself is actually only about 10 steps from the beach, I realize I forgot to mention. On my return to my site I notice a few new groups of cyclists in the campground; 3 people, who I find out are Canadian, taking the spot off to my left and a group of 3 women set up just behind me. I can hear the waves crashing from my tent site and it’s a familiar and well appreciated feeling, so I grab the Townshend’s Kombucha (my favorite brand of botch) I bought at Safeway and decide to drink it on the hill overlooking the ocean just down the path from me. As I’m enjoying my beverage and watching the sun sink below the horizon I think that I wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the world right now; this is where I want to be today, and any care I have in the world has instantly dissolved, if only temporarily.
Pretty soon the quiet is broken by shuffling behind me, and I see Dan and Zach hopping a fence I’m sitting near with a frisbee in hand. They tell me they’re going to go toss it around on the beach and invite me to come with, I agree and tag along down to the shore. We have a fun and rambunctious game of catch with the frisbee, which Zach tells me he bought at the thrift store back in town for a quarter. We all joke about how when we see other people tossing a frisbee around we typically make fun of them, but like most things you don’t realize how awesome it is until you start playing. We’re zipping it over our heads, catching and throwing from between our legs, making dramatic running catches, and daring each other to really go for it and dive hard into the sand. We all keep reminding each other repeatedly that whoever chucks it into the ocean has to swim and get it, and we have a few close calls and some wet shoes when the disc lands in the shallows and starts getting dragged out to see with the tide. We all also get thoroughly covered in sand by the time it gets dark, even though none of us dove headfirst for a catch, but we decide to call it as the sun drifts further toward the horizon. Afterward I return to my perch on the hill to watch the waves, and Dan (who tells me he’s an Arborist by profession) climbs a very dry and extremely tall tree a few feet behind me to get what he claims will be ultimately a better view. He gets probably 40 ft up in the tree, and he’s even so far up that it’s impossible for me to photograph him with my little ipod camera in this rapidly dimming light. He shouts down that to his dismay the tree branches are blocking what he expected to be an amazing view. We both sit in silence for quite a while, and as he begins to climb down I spot a couple walking down the beach far off in the distance. They’re walking just along the edge of where the water touches, when they both stop for a moment and face the ocean. I assumed at first that they were just taking in this glorious view we were having. But oops, no. Wait. No, he just dropped his shorts and is peeing on the sand. He’s pulling the “I’m just looking at something” move while he pees with one hand on top of his head and the other clutching a beer can. Meanwhile, the woman just stares off in a random direction until he finishes, not convincing anyone that nothing weird is going on because she’s not even looking at the ocean. He then zips up his fly and struggles to pull his shorts back on properly with one hand, not wanting to let go of his brewski even for a second. What a precious moment.
After they leave I decide I’ve had my fill of both beautiful sunsets and people urinating on public beaches for the day, so I head back to my tent and start getting ready for bed. Zach and Dan are still up so I chat with them for a while, but as yawns start to spread around the circle we eventually call it a day and wish each other goodnight. Last thing I tell them I say before heading off to my tent is that if we’re leaving at the same time in the morning and they wanted to roll down to Lincoln City together that it could be a lot of fun. Even though I’m doing this trip solo it’s always nice to meet cool folks, and there will be plenty of opportunities to have time to myself when I need it. Plus, they told me they have a pretty rad stereo they blast music from as they ride.
I finally climb into my tent, change into the basketball shorts I like to sleep in and unpack my sleeping bag from my pannier. Another night of being pleasantly and thoroughly exhausted, so I’m thinking I won’t have any trouble falling asleep. The sound of the waves and the salty air are a soothing presence as they drift through the mosquito net of my tent, and it’s a gentle end to a difficult but fulfilling day. Goodnight world, I hope you’re all as happy as I am in this moment.