...f-word,early arrivers on th'LA punk scene back in 77'n th'first to get a long play wax out to th'populace,a cool way for them to kick off,its a live offerin' taped at th'mabuhay gardens(fab mab) showin' rick l.rick/dim wanker/dutch shultz/steve effete crashin' their way through a heavy blast o' newly formin' spikey punk rock,stripped down speedy metal, grounded in th'likes o' th'iggy/james williamson combination, like what radio birdman sounded like in '76, th'amphetamine mid70s garage beat from th'inner suburbs o' differin' major locales across th'rocknroll-planet...thrashin' mangled spazz rock poundin' its way into existance,th'first tune(after a great intro by club owner/promoter dirk dirkson where he has friendy banter with poshboy,f-words english manager, dig it...)exhalts th'onlookers to'do th'nihil',f-words anti-dance they no doubt had high hopes o' seein' come to fruition, but th'manifestation o' such ideas only become corporate'n end up as th'retarded mosh pit o' identikit pop-punk thirty years later...showin' their'dedication'to nihilism they treat th'then paranoid-freaky hillside strangler(LApunx own charlie manson for a few months) to an ode,followed by more thrashin'n then a NYdolls cover(bad girl)which they do real well,a basement spillage o' overdosed rockin'...ever more rowdy rockin' comes on over th'next few all ends with th'germs'shut down'n stooges'no fun'with some inbetween audience participation,just like a 69 stooges gig only more friendly...every thing a layabout needs for a buzzed afternoons rockin',wonderful mind travel to when there was fresh hope in th'rockroll universe,when th'backrooms/cellars o' dank'n dirty buildin's provided cats with a refuge from th'blahs,a hideout from th'square world,bohemia with blastin' ampage,warm beer'n a spliff to get on through to th'other side...


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