Using the word “krunk” ages before hip hop popularized it.
Dan Halligan. 10 Things zine
Okay, so I might have exaggerated a little when I said in my last post that listening to Pud changed my life. But they did become a musical staple for me — that tape rarely left my Walkman, which I wore frequently around my tiny hometown. (It was either them or the Descendents.) Once, I told someone at a party that I was listening to my band’s “new demo” and let him listen to it. He liked it, though I’m positive he never came to any of my shows, so my deception went undiscovered.
Pud were also to be the headliners of the first show I ever promoted and played.
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Yeah, ha ha, their name is Pud.
This, right here, is one of the reasons I started this blog. When I first thought this thing up, I would tell myself, “…and I’ll get to post about Pud!” Really; it was one of those things I just daydreamed about.
When talking about Bainbridge Island punk rock bands, the locals would think it more prudent to talk about bands like the Rickets or March of Crimes. But seriously, fuck them; I want to talk about Pud.
About the end of 1994, I was told by some school friends of mine that the Rickets were breaking up and were planning a “last show.” in Seattle.
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The first in a series of posts featuring buried treasures from the mid ’90s that prove, once and for all, that Bainbridge Island is full of ridiculous people.
Yesterday, after a run to Amoeba, I checked off another entry from my list of records I must own before I die. For a whole $2, I finally purchased the Cleavers’s “Livin For Leisure” 7″, a record I’ve been looking for since it was released in 1995. Oh happy day!
“Who are the Cleavers?” you ask. Well, does the name “Murder City Devils” ring a bell?
While the majority of what-would-become-the-Devils lived in Seattle and played feedback-drenched, double-screamer hardcore in the band Area 51; across the Puget Sound, in a little place called Bainbridge Island, Devils-to-be Nate Manny and Gabe Kerbrat* both played guitar and sang in a band called the Cleavers. (Other dudes that went by the name Joe and Oliver played bass and drums respectively.) Best described as “immature punk,” (though I bet they had a funnier/stupider name for it,) the band sang about the awesomeness of Abe Lincoln, failed attempts at escaping Alcatraz, and, most notably, what they would do if they were robots.
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