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.

The band members took two cars to the show — a tiny pickup and a full-size van. The tiny pickup carried the singer Gavin, his then-girlfriend whose name I forgot, and driver Jake Manny to my house in Richland, which is about four hours from Bainbridge Island.

In the van was the rest of the band and some friends tagging along; about 11 people, or so I was told. As they were about to enter Yakima, their van broke down. A tow truck was sent for them from Bainbridge Island.

I had the three over for a while at my house as the van drama played out. I didn’t hang out with them much since one of my neighbors kept complaining to the cops and I had to deal with that. In the little time I did hang out with them, I remember two things:

1. My mom had made a bunch of hot dogs for all the bands (I was 14) and when I offered Gavin one, he told me he was vegetarian.

2. When the cops finally shut down the show and left me feeling like a failure, Jake Manny was nice enough to give me a hug. I appreciated it.

I never did see Pud live, but my good friend Shawn moved to Olympia a year later and went to a party that Gavin was at. Apparently Gavin drank so much that he ended up looking “like Leo DiCaprio in ‘What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.’”

Later, Shawn would come back to Richland from college and bring with him a copy of Pud’s “Punk As Krunk.” The cover featured a pen-drawing of the back cover of Rancid’s “Let’s Go,” with the members of Rancid being replaced with the guys from Pud.

The recording was made a few years before the Breakout demo. It memorializes the band at a time when they were still fumbling with their instruments and trying way too hard to be funny. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were 14 when they made it.

(I understand if these tracks aren’t downloaded a lot, but please do yourself a favor and listen to What’s That (It’s Love!) at least once)

A year or two after the band released “Breakout,” they put out an album on Recess Records, one of my favorite labels in the ’90s. (I was a big FYP fan.) “The One On The Wall Is A Trout, I’m The Shark” really is as ridiculous as its title, but it’s worth a listen. I give them genius points for making music this over-the-top.

They also had a 7″ — “I Was Teenage Rancor” — as well as some tracks on a couple Recess compilations, but I’m not going to post those. I think if you care enough about the band, you’ll find those tracks on your own.

After fronting a few over-the-top rock bands in Seattle, Salvation and the Blessed Light, Gavin now fronts an L.A. group called “Winter Flowers.” They describe their music as “California Mystic Folk,” but I should let this video do the talking:

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.

I was 14 at the time, about the age I first began considering myself a punk. (Yes, I let it be known that I endorsed the idea of wearing t-shirts and jeans everyday, and also appreciated loud, abrasive music.) The Rickets were one of the first bands to convince me that I too could play loud, fast music, and could start doing so as soon as my parents bought me an instrument. They were an ironically large influence on my life even after my dad tried to ban them from my house, which is why, when living in the Tri-Cities, I would have to turn down a seat in my friend’s car and miss out on my favorite band’s last show.

When I saw my friend at school the Monday following the show, he didn’t say much about it, just that “Pud was better than the Rickets.” Are you kidding me? It was the Rickets last show! And a band named Pud was better?

Soon afterward, I sent off a letter to the bassist of the Rickets (we were pen pals) asking for contact info for Pud and about six to eight weeks later I received in his response an address for “Lucky Eddie.” Sent this “Lucky Eddie” four bucks and an SASE, and soon after moving to a new house, I received the “Breakout” demo tape.

Imagine receiving a random demo tape with a convict holding a cop hostage on the cover, popping the tape into your Walkman and hearing this:

Yes, it did change my life.

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.

Missoula, Montana-based label Wantage co-released the Livin’ For Leisure 7″ with Left Over Productions. Only 500 pressed on clear vinyl and inscribed on every record was what could only be described as nonsense, but were probably inside jokes. Side A: “The moon is hallow! In a movie about hockey there is a million whip cut if not more because in Canada they don’t have T.V.” Side B: “Did you ever meet a free mason you liked? Did you ever see that movie called Warrioirs(sic) about the fucked up gangs in New York? Come out to play Warroirs!” (Maybe Warroirs is the French spelling? -Ed.) You have to wonder if they actually paid for it to say that or it was thrown in for free.

The record also comes with a full 24-page zine. Gabe, while in the Cleavers, also published a zine called “Hellbound,” a perfect example of the smaller, goofier fan zines that lonely punks in small towns all over the U.S. produced en mass. Issues of Hellbound were filled with band interviews, record reviews and a comic that featured “Abe Lincoln shooting steroids and fighting people,” according to Dan Halligan from 10 Things zine. Gabe, who now blogs about his life for [url=http://kerbrat.wordpress.com/]The Best Chapters,[/url] loved the Hellbound name so much he would later use it for a record label, his band-management company and even a house he lived in.

The zine accompanying the record is an inane diatribe against the evils of the Easter Island Heads, who the Cleavers blame for every horrible moment in history. The zine starts off: “What do the assassination of Abe Lincoln, the sinking of the Titanic and the Apollo moon landings have in common? Need we bother asking.(sic) Often mistaken merely for giant stone heads, the Easter Island Heads are in reality much much more. It was the Easter Island Heads that brought the human race to this planet so many years ago aboard the moon, hollowed out to accommodate our freeze-dried ancestors…” Later: “Easter Island Heads, what in the hell are you talking about, is that what you’re saying? Well buddy, I think its about time you take the first train out of Idiotsville and open your eyes. All aboard the reality express, destination: you figuring out that the Easter Island heads control even the most mundane aspects of your existence.”

The zine goes on to say that the “Heads” control TV and every government in the world, while displaying pictures that show heads with historical figures such as Hitler, Mussolini and Lee Harvey Oswald. (When my scanner stops acting up, I’ll post the whole thing.)

Here are a sampling of tracks from “Livin For Leisure”

A quick sample of the lyrics to “Robot”:
If I was a robot I wouldn’t have to breath
and I’d go into outer space
and I’d play rock and roll on Mars.

and

If I was a robot I’d eat nuts and bolts
and I’d drink motor oil
and if you double park me I’ll eat your car.

Larry Jackson, of the Rickets and Jesus Fucking Christ, told me once that he used to drum for the Cleavers. “But I always made sure not to play as well as I could have, because I didn’t want them to be as good as the Rickets.” (One more fact proving that Larry rules.)

As Murder City Devils fans already know, the Cleavers begat the Unabombers, while across the sound, Area 51 begat the Death Wish Kids. And both the Unabombers and the Death Wish Kids begat the Murder City Devils, the demigods for an entire generation of kids in high school during the ’90s (including my wife.)

Coming soon: BI punk, pt.2 — Pud, creators of Ragna Rock ‘n Roll!

*Yes, I know Gabe was only the roadie, but many considered him to be the “7th devil.”