Is My Tea Ready or Is That Just My Tinnitus?

Posted on by Kevin Tit

I’ve been going to punk and metal shows for the better part of thirty years and I’ve seen a lot of things change over time. Everything from the sound to the fashion, to the… hold on. Do you hear that? I think the tea is ready. Would you like a cup? I’ll be right back. Two seconds.

Okay. Nevermind. I forgot to turn the hot water on. Where was I? Oh yeah. The scene. It’s come a long way from where it was. I mean, when I was a kid going to shows you didn’t know if you were gonna make it out aliv- there it goes again. Damn, that water got hot fast. Excuse me for a second.

Sorry. False alarm. Y’know, to be completely honest, my tinnitus has gotten so bad that I can never tell if my tea is ready or if the eternal ringing in my brain is amplifying. It’s pretty miserable sometimes, I can’t lie. I should have worn earplugs at all those shows but I didn’t wanna look like a dweeb. I mean, it was the 90s! Nobody worried about that type of thing back then.

Thinking back, it wasn’t worth it. This condition has really ruined my life. Never in a thousand years did I expect to end up on the no-fly list. I didn’t mean to scare everyone at the airport! I really thought I heard the faint high-pitched sound of a bomb dropping out of the sky and I thought I could save hundreds of lives. And since only thirty-five people were trampled to death in the panic, I’d say the numbers support my decision to speak out.

If I could instill any advice onto the younger generation of folks going to shows it would be this: WEAR SOME DAMN EARPLUGS. Not only could it save your life but it could save others and, oh, hold on. I think my tea is ready.

The Hard Times Guide to Saying Nothing When a Young Person Discovers a Band You Like

Posted on by Tom Peters

It will happen to us all. We will see a post online or overhear a conversation in a vintage store. An excited young person will make a public declaration about a cool band they just “discovered.” One that we’ve already lived several lifetimes with, tracking their ups and downs with each release, perhaps even abandoning them forever, only to come back around again with the forgiveness that only time brings. It can be tempting to speak up and tell the Wednesdays of the world that the “new” band they’re falling in love with actually belonged to you first.

That’s why we’ve put together these step-by-step instructions on how to not do that. This is the Hard Times guide to saying nothing when a young person discovers a band you like.

Step 1: Don’t Say Anything
This is always the hardest one to get right. How can you resist explaining to a Stranger Things fan that you’ve listened to Metallica for so long that you only like “Master Of Puppets” ironically now? Simple: Shut the fuck up. Just let people enjoy things and try to remember what that feels like. Besides, young people don’t need any extra help thinking you’re old.

Step 2: Be Quiet
Okay, you’ve made it through step one. The hard part’s over. But how will everyone know you’ve got an original pressing of the latest TikTok trend on vinyl? This one’s tricky, but it looks like the answer is still shutting the fuck up. It turns out that younger generations don’t share in your object fetishization, so the gate you’re keeping has already turned to dust. Just keep quiet and go back home to your precious possessions and be happy that your records will go on to make someone happy long after you’re gone, or whenever you decide to sell them.

Step 3: Did You See Them Live? Doesn’t Matter, Stop Talking
Quite possibly the highest form of clout to lord over a burgeoning music fan is having seen a band live in their heyday. But unfortunately this, too, is meaningless. There’s no magic that rubbed off on you because you got drunk in the same room as a cool band. Frank Stallone saw the Velvet Underground live and look what happened to him. Just write down whatever you were going to say and post it in a YouTube comment where it belongs.

Step 4: Keep Shutting The Fuck Up
Time to take everything you’ve learned and get out there and leave everybody alone. It might feel like your favorite music is a precious resource and that new fans enjoying it the wrong way will take away from how much it means to you. But for them to gain doesn’t mean you have to lose. Fandom isn’t a zero-sum game. Just be happy that your favorite bands are living on through new fans and the magical life experiences they’ll be soundtracking.

Gen Z-er Refers to Album That Saved Your Life as “Content”

Posted on by Mark Hassenfratz

NEW YORK – Local 22-year-old Jacob Alvarez described your all-time favorite album, which you routinely credit with saving your life, as an interesting piece of “content,” multiple aghast witnesses confirmed.

“It’s not fucking ‘content,’ it’s art about pain and truth! It got me through the darkest periods of my entire life!” you said, clenching your fists while trying and failing to fight back tears. “Would you call the Mona Lisa ‘content’? Is the Coliseum ‘content’? ‘Full Collapse’ got me through every breakup I had in college and I listened to it every time I cried in the shower during that three-year streak where I was unemployed. I’ve been blasting that album on my car’s shitty stereo driving home from minimum wage jobs since before these fucking zoomers were spilling Cheerios on their first iPad.”

Despite your teary pushback, Alvarez continued to defend their love of Thursday.

“Yeah, Geoff Rickley is probably one of my favorite content creators right now. Apparently, he’s got a novel coming out, which I guess is some long-form content printed on paper and bound together and you actually read it page by page. It sounds trippy,” said Cladge. “I’ve actually been getting into that whole era of music lately. I’ve been playing my dad’s vintage copy of ‘Tony Hawk Pro Skater.’ I just wish these bands would tour more often. You’ve gotta constantly be producing stuff if you want to reach all of your followers these days.”

As millennials enter their late middle age, these generational divides are becoming more pronounced.

“Surprisingly, Gen Z has been pretty good for business,” said Ricky Barret, owner, and manager of Noise Factory Record Store. “Kids will come here to buy a $30 LP so they can hear a seven-second clip of a song that went viral on TikTok. Lots of them are finding that music sounds a lot better coming out of nice speakers as opposed to their waxy AirPods. I just wish these little twerps would stop asking me when lo-fi beats to study/relax to is getting a vinyl pressing.”

At press time, Alvarez caused you further emotional distress when he suggested you check out the movie “Napoleon Dynamite,” a movie he claimed he had just discovered and “should be talked about more.”

We Reviewed Our Sister’s Wedding Playlist and Now Our Mom Is Asking Us To Apologize

Posted on by Neel Bhakta

It’s not every day that you get to see your little sister’s fifth wedding. The sight of her rounding the corner and walking down the aisle is a moment that will stick with you for the rest of your life. And as her older brother, it is my ultimate responsibility to make sure everything is 100% perfect. Having said that, I regret to announce that my sister’s wedding playlist is complete dogshit.

It began with way too much Ed Sheeran. I thought we were listening to a 17-minute song by that British freak, but it turns out it was 6 different songs! Listen, I’m not one of those loser music snobs that hates pop music, I’m just one of those cool guys that insults pop music every chance I get.

I understand everyone has different music tastes. I thought for sure Every Thug Needs a Lady by Alkaline Trio would be played but nope. Hell, I even offered to go get my acoustic guitar and play it live but apparently, my dad would take me out of his will or whatever. I guess all those years of forcing my sister to listen to the Psychobilly station on Pandora never taught her anything about what true love is.

After the Ed Sheeran section finished, some other mediocre White singer-songwriter started crooning about some “feeling your heartbeat” shit. I took matters into my own hands and I found the guy in control of the playlist and had to bribe the asshole to play something punk. Then he had the fucking gall to look me in the eyes and queue up a Coldplay song like that’s what I wanted! To make it worse, it wasn’t even Parachutes Coldplay, it was that god-awful Ghost Stories shit.

And now, our mother is forcing me to apologize for complaining. I’m sorry, but when did she become the moral authority on music criticism? This is the same woman who thinks The Beatles are better than the Rolling Stones, her opinion belongs in the trash next to all the fondant flowers from the cake.

You know, come to think of it, that wedding fucking sucked. Music was garbage, no pins and patches policy on suits, I even had to go out and buy a dress shirt because I wasn’t allowed to wear my badass Jeff Rosenstock tank top.

Fuck it, I think I’m gonna go get married out of spite. I’ll even get the band back together so me and the boys can finally play in front of an audience that’s obligated to stay for the majority of the set.

Radiologist Queues up Demo for Unsuspecting MRI Patient

Posted on by Joanna McNaney Stein

NEW YORK — Radiologist and sludge metal rocker Rory Hanson took his future into his own hands on Monday morning when he played his demo CD for an unsuspecting MRI patient, sources who asked to postpone their appointments as a result confirmed.

“The patient looked just like the famous record producer Clive Davis, so I thought this was my chance,” said Hanson, who was recently given a warning that he’d be stripped of his radiology license if he kept playing his original music. “Turns out, you’re not supposed to play your demo CD through the MRI machine, but this was my Beatles’ rooftop moment. Wait, they were already mega famous, so that’s not exactly the same, but you know what I mean. It was like my ‘before they were famous’ Beatles moment. Consider me the Pete Best of radiology.”

Unsuspecting MRI patient Siro Baresi admits he is often confused for a famous record executive before noninvasive medical examinations.

“For the record, I’m not in the music business. I’m just a regular old guy who wears transition lenses. I probably could have avoided all of this if that guy saw that I drove up in a 2004 Saturn with 350,000 miles on it,” explained Baresi while adjusting his glasses. “When it was happening, I just thought the MRI machine was busted or something, but then the kid kept asking ‘You dig it, man? You dig it?’ The good news is, they didn’t find a tumor, but the bad news is I will never get that horrible music out of my head. Not sure which is worse.”

Facility compliance officer Karmela Bai was completing her annual review of the radiology department when she heard loud music coming from the MRI room.

“I immediately knew what was happening,” said Bai while taking an aspirin. “Unfortunately these occurrences are fairly common. Our research shows that 8 out of 10 people with radiology degrees are musicians just hoping for their big break. The other two are usually actors hoping they get to do radiology work on big-time directors. That’s why you see most patients leave here with a hefty bill and a copy of the radiologist’s headshot.”

At press time, Hanson was seen writing a new song called “Ethics Violation,” based on his recent experience, which he couldn’t wait to debut during his next shift.

Five Classic Hot Rods That Can Drive You Straight Out of Your Nightmare Marriage

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

If there’s anything more American than a bitchin’ classic hot rod, it’s an overwhelming, constant desire to escape that nightmare your marriage become by any means necessary.

Thanks to these kings of the highway, you can hit the road in style and drive away forever, never having to think about whether all of this is because you cannot truly let yourself be known or loved, because, baby, these automobiles are just too powerful for that.


1. Ford Thunderbird 1971: Only 36,055 of these were ever built, and every single one has the 429 cubic inch V8 engine necessary to transport you away from the home that you thought you had built, but a voice inside tells you you were always planning to destroy. Fun fact, Neiman Marcus offered a special “his” and “hers” version of these cars, but you sure as hell don’t need that!

2. Lamborghini Miura 1966: This classic car has a clocked max speed of 171 miles per hour, exactly the speed to drown out the sounds of your own sobs as you realize you’re doing it, you’re really doing it. Of all the petty manipulations you ever pulled in your marriage, this is the pettiest.

Yeah, you really did it now. Rev that engine!

3. Bugatti Type 57 Atlantic 1938: This “Aérolithe” concept by Jean Bugatti is considered one of the sleekest and sexiest designs in all of automotive history, and brother, they’re not wrong. What is wrong is waking up every day and feeling like something is broken, but not knowing how to fix it. That kind of wrong will kill a spirit… and a marriage.

4. Ferrari 250 GTO 1962: You didn’t think you were going to get out of here without feasting your eyes on a Ferrari, did you? Strangely enough, everyone who has ever bought this car did it because of their ability to maintain a relationship had collapsed under the pressure of daily arguments, hidden bottles of cheap brandy, and simmering resentment. Now you can too!

5. Aston Martin DB5 1964: This is the car that James Bond drove. His marriage ended in her death, but still less emotionally damaging than yours.

Black Metal Parents Keep Pestering Daughter to Give Them Grandkids to Sacrifice

Posted on by Bobby Korec

FRENCH LICK, Ind. — Local black metal parents Suzanne and Dmitri Ubnatern are persistent in asking their 30-year-old daughter to give them grandchildren to metaphorically sacrifice, hesitant sources confirmed.

“I just want to be blessed with grandkids so I can finally know what it’s like to truly love a child. Also, we need to sacrifice something in the name of metal every now and then to keep up appearances,” said the father of three. “Sure, I don’t mean traditional sacrifice in an Old Testament sense. No one does that anymore. Instead, I’m thinking in terms of applying corpse paint to the baby’s face and blasting nothing but brutal metal from Norway as a way to indoctrinate them into what I like. With children, I always find it easier to push your own interests onto them. That being said, our daughter should really be thinking about us and our needs from time to time.”

Maxine Ubnatern was not having any of her parents’ requests to reproduce.

“I’m very much turned off by the idea of having kids right now and it’s not just because my parents keep using words like ‘ritualistic’ and ‘sacrificial’ when they ask,” said the child-free daughter. “I’m just not ready emotionally, mentally, and financially to raise anything. Maybe I’ll be all caught up and mature enough by the time I’m in my 70s. Besides, why can’t my parents be normal music fans where no one is ceremonially offered up to a divine spirit of metal? I would almost prefer they be super into Rush. Say what you will about the prog rock community, but not one of them is sacrificing humans in their spare time.”

Family counselor Doug Framerson sees this sort of relational clash all the time.

“Parents kind of need to let their adult children make their own life-altering decisions,” said Framerson. “Either that or let the economy make it for them, which is more typically the case nowadays. You see, more and more young people are not so much choosing not to have kids, but having that choice made for them thanks to unaffordable housing, stagnant wages, and a blistering combination of student, medical, and consumer debts. Long gone are the days when you can raise a bunch of kids on one salary.”

At press time, the Ubnatern parents decided to pivot and ask their daughter when she’s going to get married to a tall, dark, and handsome metalhead.

Quiz: Is Your Mustache Sleazy Enough To Be a Photographer?

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

Imposter syndrome is a real thing and can prevent you from achieving your dreams, no matter how weird and stupid they are. Too many people have failed to realize their disgusting aims because they feel unsure if they’re really terrible enough.

If you have worries that your gross mustache is not sleazy enough for you to be a photographer whose “studio” is just their efficiency apartment, you’re in luck!

Take The Hard Times mustache quiz and figure out if your facial hair has what it takes to make people very uncomfortable while you pretend to adjust a lens!

Is your mustache way too obsessively over-groomed or is it disgustingly unkempt?
A qualifying mustache is either wheedled out into the finest of wax points or has barbecue chip fragments in it. Nothing in between.

Does your mustache obscure your tongue as you frequently and lingeringly lick your lips at your model?
Mustache length can vary from scumbag to scumbag, but the appropriate growth for someone going into a career entirely facilitated by Craigslist posts and promises that this will be great for a model’s resume must not exceed one-half of the upper lip.

Have you ever described your mustache as “a real party-stopper and a panty-dropper?”
Eww. Just move on to the next question. Jesus.

Are you John Waters?
While Mr. Waters is generally known best as a celebrated filmmaker and raconteur, his experience in conceptual photography-based art installments and the best mustache ever qualifies him for anything. We salute you, Mr. Waters.

Quick: is your mustache ironic, post-ironic, or post-modern?
Pretty much any of these descriptions applied to a mustache are sufficient to guarantee that you are a colossal dirtbag, and therefore basically Ansel Adams.

Does your mustache hide dark secrets which must never be known?
Truly, the facial hair one chooses to display to the word is a statement. But is that statement merely a facade, a smokescreen to disguise the terrible acts that you have performed and will continue to perform, regardless of what you tell yourself at night? If so, congratulations, you’re a photographer!

Aging Punk Confuses Equal Vision Logo for QR Code

Posted on by Clark Orr

NEW BEDFORD, Mass. — 38-year-old punk Eli Collum once again hovered his phone’s camera over the old-school Equal Vision logo thinking it was a QR code to access a brunch menu, disappointed sources confirmed.

“It took me about three solid minutes to realize my mistake. I thought something was wrong with my phone at first, I quit all the apps I had open, and then I realized I’d been pointing my phone at the back of a used 108 record I just copped at Purchase Street,” said Collum while forcefully blinking his eyes. “But I guess it all makes sense. I always thought it was confusing that Hare Krishnas had such a big influence over the hardcore scene, and now 30 years later Krishna is still fucking me up. But maybe this is a sign I finally need to get glasses.”

Collum’s longtime girlfriend Lisa Packer noticed his mistake immediately, but didn’t want to embarrass him in public.

“A lot of the places we eat got rid of hard copies of their menus during Covid so we are used to scanning QR codes before ordering. I tried to lead by example and show Eli the QR code on his placemat, but he just sat there getting more and more frustrated,” said Packer. “He started grumbling like a jaded grandfather about how ‘technology is trying to kill him’ and how ‘things were so much easier back in 2004.’ But honestly I don’t even know why he pretends to look at the menu, he always orders chocolate chip pancakes no matter where we are. He’s pretty stuck in his ways.”

Equal Vision founder Ray Cappo says he does not understand why anyone is confused by the logo.

“Anyone can see the logo is a divine deity. If your eyesight is failing you it’s probably because your parents gave you poisonous vaccines as a child,” said Cappo, also known as Raghunath Das, before doing 15 push-ups and locking into a Mayurasana. “Human eyeballs should work with complete clarity for at least 150 years. Only outside toxins can cloud your vision, and if you open your third eye you will be able to see past this world into eternity and beyond. Also, Youth of Today will be playing Brazil next March and we will have some exclusive merch for the tour you don’t want to miss.”

Friends fear Collum’s other senses might also be failing him after he reportedly said “I went back and listened to an old H2O record and it wasn’t that bad.”

Photo by Clark Orr.

Review: Wipers “Over the Edge”

Posted on by Joe Rumrill

This week, The Hard Times takes a listen to 1983’s “Over the Edge,” the third album of the legendary American punk band Wipers.

This is an album I was excited to revisit, not only because I’ve been a Wipers fan since college, but also because for the past few weeks, I’ve been stuck plant-sitting for my eccentric neighbor while they try to set the world record for being in the background crowd at “Good Morning America” most consecutive days. Good luck, Mr. Lanford! We’re all watching!

Anyway, I heard somewhere music is essential for plant livelihood, so I made sure to drop the needle on the record in the vicinity of Mr. Lanford’s prized venus fly trap. Well, we didn’t even make it to “Doom Town” before that thing started growing ten feet tall and gaining the gift of speech. I was amazed, but really, when you think about it, that’s the power of music!

By the time we got to “Romeo,” it started begging me to feed it, so naturally I gave it all the human blood I could find (there were lots of jars of it in Mr. Lanford’s basement, I assume for emergencies like this.) It spit it out with disgust and chided me for assuming it wanted blood to eat, sarcastically referring to itself as “the venus blood trap” for the rest of the conversation. I guess I have a lot of learning to do.

As “No One Wants an Alien” cranked through the speaker system, I frantically scrambled to find some flies for the increasingly irritable vegetation. I couldn’t locate any! (Well, ok, I found a few, but I had worked up quite the hunger myself from rushing around, so…) Well, long story short, I realized there was an airport across the street (not sure why I hadn’t noticed it before, the plane sounds drowned out most of the record so far.) And it didn’t take me long to convince the plant that the planes were actually big ol’ juicy flies, ready for the eating.

The venus fly trap gave me a hearty earful about proper greenhouse management, over the din of both “No Generation Gap” and the aircrafts taking off, and lifted itself up by the roots and dragged itself across the street to dine like a king. By the time the record was over, that thing was housing a 747 at an altitude of 35,000 feet. I couldn’t help but salute.

I still think my statement about the power of music holds up. We should play this album in the Amazon rainforest and see if we can’t get a few more miles of greenery back up and running. Just remember to re-route any air traffic.

Score: 14/76 days before Mr. Lanford breaks the record. Confident I’ll replace the plant by then.