Show Ends With All Bands Lining up to High Five and Say “Good Gig”

Posted on by Joe Rumrill

TUCSON, Ariz. — Every musician who played the Rat’s Nest Thursday night showed an unprecedented display of scene camaraderie by forming two lines, high fiving, and repeating “good gig” to close the show, stunned sources confirmed.

“It just felt like the right thing to do. Everyone was sounding so fantastic that night, just incredible sets all around,” said Grime Grubber guitarist Lynda Ng. “Even the guys who are typically big showboaters all shared the spotlight and exhibited a deep understanding of the importance of the fundamentals. If we’re gonna say ‘good gig’ fifty times, we’re gonna mean it. We all ended up sharing some orange slices that my mom had given me before the show and drinking some warm beer that was sitting in a cooler behind the bar. It reminded me why I started playing music to begin with.”

Unfortunately, not everyone in attendance held such positive reactions to the showing of good sportsmanship, like the irate response it elicited in certain parents in the crowd.

“Some of the applause the other bands were getting was total bullshit. My son Donny was clearly MVP of the show, he plays bass like a little angel. The sound guy was fucking him over all night, it’s like he was turning him all the way down in the mix on purpose,” said Gregg Suskin, father of Donny Suskin who plays in Bunkle Uck. “Yeah sure, I got a little tipsy and started yelling as much to some of the other parents in the bleachers, but that’s what the damn Rat’s Nest gets for installing bleachers into a punk club. They can say it’s ironic all they want, but if a brawl breaks out ‘cause I spill a beer on another dad, don’t blame me if I put up my fists.”

Venue popcorn vendor Honus Rebhorn said it was one of the finest shows he’d seen in his over thirty-year career.

“I’ve seen a lot a lot of bands take the stage in my time here at the Nest, and I’m man enough to admit that I teared up when I saw those kids line up to high five,” said Rebhorn. “I consider myself a lucky man, being able to hold a multi-decade career in selling popcorn at rock shows in this economy and all, but that night, I felt even luckier. The best part was the one band that had a dog playing in it, though. That was really something cute. Nobody had any qualms about it, because they knew there was no rule against it. Music’s for everybody, man or beast. Heck, I’d high five to that, too.”

When reached for comment on whether or not the bands deserved to get taken out for ice cream afterward, Rat’s Nest owner Gil Vernon said simply “we’ll see…” which everyone seemed to know always means yes.

Review: Poison the Well “Tear From the Red”

Posted on by Colleen Nerney

Each week, The Hard Times takes a trip to the past to review a classic album. This time around we take a look at Poison the Well’s “Tear From the Red” the album that landed the band a deal with a major record label.

Metalcore icons Poison the Well are known for their early-2000s efforts like “Tear from the Red” as much as they are for their numerous, seemingly relentless lineup changes. Since the process of writing and recording an album is often as important—if not more—than the finished product, I thought I’d take a look back at the legendary story of “Tear from the Red,” an album so cursed with bad luck, it may as well have been influenced by spirits from beyond the grave.

And by “may as well have been,” I mean “literally was.” Did you know that the making of this album began when frontman Omar Rodríguez-López purchased a Ouija board from a curiosities shop in Jerusalem? Yep, that’s right. This shit had creepy potential from the start, but it started out innocuously enough. On their tour with Red Hot Chili Peppers (yeah, I know), the band apparently spent most nights using the board on the bus after a show. The spirits contacted by the band, known collectively as “Goliath,” began communing with them on a regular basis.

Granted, talking to the dead is a pretty hype concept for an album, but it definitely came with risks. And man, these guys had it rough after unleashing a flurry of angry spirits on themselves. The recording process was marred with bad luck, from flooding to injuries to lineup changes caused by mental breakdowns. Even the sound tech quit after realizing this album was touched by something evil.

Apparently, it got so bad that Rodríguez-López had to fucking bury the Ouija board in an undisclosed location in order to stop the parade of madness that followed him at every turn. Honestly, I think this would make a dope horror flick, with a banger soundtrack to boot. Someone jump on the rights to that, and if it works out, bring a soothsayer and sage or some shit to protect yourself!

And there you have it, folks, the story of the most cursed album of all time, “The Bedlam in Goliath” by The Mars Volta.

Wait, fuck—

SCORE: 0/1 correct albums I researched for this

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GWAR Still Haunted by Fact Dave Matthews Dumped More Feces on Chicago Than They Ever Will

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

RICHMOND, Va. — Shock rockers GWAR admitted recently that despite decades of dousing their fans in bodily fluids, none of it compares to Dave Matthews Band dumping liquid feces on a Chicago tour boat.

“Over the past forty years, GWAR has committed acts so vile that mere mortal musicians couldn’t even imagine. From showering willing and eager audience members in guts and sinew, to murdering Ethan Embry, and even feeding various heads of state to a crack-addicted T-rex. But we’ve never quite reached the same level as that sick fuck Dave Matthews,” said GWAR guitarist Balsac the Jaws of Death. “Dropping a literal butt ton of poop on unsuspecting tourists admiring Chicago’s breathtaking architecture has been a dream of mine for years. And knowing that a freaking jam band out-GWARed GWAR hurts my soul.”

GWAR fan and DMB victim Tanya Blaese provided unique insight into the experience.

“It was pretty obvious from everyone else’s reaction that I was the only GWAR fan on that tour boat. Apparently these people had never been drenched in a scumdoggian monster’s semen, because they all sued the band. If anything, I felt like I needed to pay Dave for the experience. I only regret that I wasn’t wearing a white shirt that I could have kept as a souvenir,” said Blaese. “As much as I love GWAR, I don’t see how they could ever top what Dave did that day. And to answer the question everyone asks me, yes, being virtually waterboarded with DMB shit is preferable to going to one of their concerts and getting my ears filled with DMB shit.”

Despite GWAR’s jealousy, Dave Matthews insisted the incident does not represent his band.

“With all due respect to the fine creatures that make up GWAR, Dave Matthews Band is not proud of the unfortunate and disgusting incident that occurred on the Chicago River. The last thing we want is for our band to be remembered as the guys that blasted ass juice all over a major metropolitan waterway,” said Matthews. “If anything, we should be remembered as the guys who wrote the song that many elder Millennials regrettably lost their virginity to. Then after that people can remember the bridge shit spray incident.”

At press time, GWAR’s lawyers, whom the band affectionately refer to as “GWARyers,” are investigating ways in which they could legally drop an entire audience into an open septic tank.

Basement Punk Show Constantly Being Interrupted by Annoying Carbon Monoxide Detectors

Posted on by Chris Bowen

LIVERPOOL, N.Y. — Individuals attending a punk show located at 532 Rey St. complained of an annoying carbon monoxide detector sounding its alarms inside of the basement venue, irritated and unconcerned sources confirmed.

“When you go to a punk show you expect a lot of noise, but that alarm was pissing everyone off,” attendee Maggie Wentz said in a slightly dazed manner. “I was trying to enjoy Smutshock’s set and all I could hear were those loud-ass beeping sounds in the background. On top of that, the singer’s crucial between-song banter was all incoherent and slurred, then the drummer kept passing out. Needless to say, ‘the iconic’ basement show of the entire summer was a major letdown.”

Jason Ruiz, the owner of the decrepit home and show organizer, had a cavalier approach to the pesky alarms interrupting his fun.

“Yeah, those detectors are a pain in my ass,” a visibly frustrated Ruiz said. “Time and time again whenever I have shows in my basement, I get people coming up to me and telling me I need to figure out why they’re going off and then puking all over the floor. I usually just turn a fan on and take out the batteries then everyone is happy again. I mean, what the hell is ‘carbon monoxide’ anyway? I’d rather be dead than have that noise keep me from seeing Smutshock right here in my own basement!”

DIY scene veteran James “Spew” Price talks about some of the common dangers of basement shows past and present.

“In my 35-plus years in the scene, I’ve certainly come across situations some would consider ‘hazardous’ to a person’s health,” Price said while drinking straight from a Jim Beam bottle. “Garage shows with burn barrels directly in the middle so half the pit was set ablaze. Basement gigs where the radon was so prevalent, half the crowd was sterilized when they left for some reason. Stuff like that. So a little carbon monoxide is child’s play. After all, this is punk. Punk is supposed to be dangerous and ruin your life.”

At press time, several witnesses saw an ambulance driving towards the Ruiz home, where Smutshock was still performing.

Let’s Just Say Sometimes I Need to Pee When There’s No Public Restroom Available, and I’m Smarter Than the Police

Posted on by Dan Rice

Salutations and tip of my cap, officers of the Sunnybay Police Department. You don’t know me, not yet, but you are familiar with my work.

I understand you’ve had quite a morning. By now you are no doubt aware of the dirty mess some neer do well, under cover of night, left for you to clean on the west-facing wall of the public library. I’ll save your forensics team some leg work and confirm what I’m quite certain you already suspect — it was piss.

How do I know the details of the library pissing even though you have yet to share them with the media? I think you will find that I’m one step ahead of you on a great many things.

I also know about pissing behind Starbucks last fall, the Spring Street piss wave, and most recently the incident at Summerfest that left attendees saying “Hey, what’s that smell? Is it piss?” They are all courtesy of your humble author, John Q. Me.

What can I say? I’ll just be going about my day, minding my own business when all of the sudden I’ll just get the urge. And once that urge takes hold, I know by now it’s just not going to go away. Not until I take a pisssss.

Perhaps you find my crimes to be sick, or mad. You wanna know what I think is mad? The total lack of public restroom availability in downtown Sunnybay. What do I think is sick? A town that rents 4 portajohns for a Summerfest attended by nearly 3000 people in the course of one weekend. A society that allows Starbucks to remodel their bathroom during pumpkin latte season. I was driven to these crimes as the neglected beggar is driven to theft, as the waters of the flood are driven to low ground.

It was your world that made me what I am. But now that I’ve had a taste of it, the sheer thrill of taking a human piss somewhere you’re not supposed to be pissing, I want more. So much more.

Perhaps you’re wondering why I would take the risk of publishing this letter. Perhaps it’s hubris. Perhaps like many madmen before me, I wish to be caught. Or maybe I’ve just come to enjoy our little game of cat and mouse. It doesn’t matter. Soon this town will be ripe with the stains of my glorious becoming.

Your public buildings are not safe. Your sidewalks are not safe. You are not safe in your homes. Well, okay, you are safe in your homes, but the sides of your homes themselves? I’m pissin ‘on em.

I’d love to stay and chat, but I just finished my coffee. My third cup. It seems the cafe’s sole restroom is occupied. Maybe I’ll take a little walk to the mayor’s office. Tah tah.

Werk, Queen: Three Inspiring Roughnecks Who Are Crushing It on RuPaul’s Fracking Ranch in Wyoming

Posted on by Jus Kaplan

“RuPaul’s Drag Race” is nothing short of an international sensation. The Emmy Award-winning reality competition franchise has launched the careers of countless drag queens, and it continues to be replicated in countries around the world. RuPaul has undeniably built an entertainment empire.

Tragically, the hardworking roughnecks of RuPaul’s other empire — the fracking one — hardly get the same fanfare as the televised drag performers. For years, they’ve toiled behind the scenes making untold millions for their boss, without even an ounce of credit.

Well, today we sat down with the top 3 most productive frackers on Ru’s ranch to learn more about their hidden lives and talents.

Frackers, start your engines, and may the best roughneck win!

Louis Stephens

Louis, 44, was born in Cheyenne and has worked in oil and gas since 1997. His favorite part of working on the ranch is manning the giant drill, which Ru said everyone has to call ‘Ornacia’ for some reason. Louis says he does not know why, but doesn’t ask. “Mr. Charles hired me to drill for fossil fuels, not to ask questions,” he added. Thanks for spilling the tea with us, Louis!

Cara Lopez

Cara, 32, started on the ranch as an HR specialist, but made the switch to fracking after Ru said she had real potential. “I didn’t believe in myself until Ru called me a ‘true Shale Queen,’” she said. “Mama Ru saw something in me I didn’t see in myself — my innate ability to extract natural gas from deep below the earth’s surface for profit. I’m so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone.”

We love to see the character growth, henny!

Jinkx Monsoon

I bet you didn’t expect the reigning winner of “All Stars 7” to be working on RuPaul’s fracking ranch! Well, as it turns out, the fine print in this season’s “Drag Race” contract clearly stated that the winner would be required to spend an entire year there “on tour.” Jinkx was not contractually allowed to discuss their experience on the ranch with us, but did give us a signed hard hat with the word “help” written on the inside.

We stan a generous queen of queens! Thanks Jinkx!

Forgotten Amp Now Cat’s Favorite Scratching Post

Posted on by James Klinger

WAUSAU, Wisc. — Local cat Penelope D. Paws staked her claim on an old guitar amp which makes for the perfect scratching post to keep her claws healthy and sharp, frustrated sources confirmed.

“I’ve stapled carpet to the wall, I’ve bought those cardboard scratchers and dumped cat nip inside, but she really loves tearing apart that amp,” said cat owner, Seamus Callahan. “Every time I hear her scratch it I’m reminded of my shattered hopes and dreams. I think she’s doing it on purpose to make me feel bad about quitting my band. Granted, I never plug the amp in anymore, and I usually just use it as a place to store plates while I play video games, but I might want to sell the thing someday. Now I’ll have to get the thing reupholstered and that can’t be cheap.”

Penelope believes that any surface in the house is fair game for her to scratch.

“This vintage amplifier is simply a must for my precious claws,” said Penelope right before knocking a glass of water off a desk. “It’s not like poor Seamus was using it anyway. Besides, after scattering his picks across the house and trashing his tweed guitar case, I needed more to satisfy my feline urges. This is squatter’s rights 101, if something is forgotten and in the house it becomes mine. I’ve paid my dues, having to listen to his pitiful attempts at playing guitar for years, I’ll show him what shredding really is.”

Veterinarian and renowned cat expert, Kaitlynn Klinger chimed in with her professional assessment.

“It’s typical for house cats such to want to scratch things around the house, and cats tend to instinctively know what will bother their owner the most when they scratch at it,” said Dr. Klinger. “This behavior is shown to mark their territory. The face of the amplifier is the perfect material for the cat’s claws and it is widely known in the cat community as a promoter of good paw health. Some people think moving an amp out to their garage might help, but that usually just leads to raccoons or possums using the amp as an enclosure to have babies.”

Penelope also announced plans to walk across her owner’s laptop which she hopes will lead to the “accidental” deletion of the solo synth project he’s been working on for months.

We Asked Our Best Friend What They Really Think About Our Band and Turns Out They Love It!

Posted on by Yancy Lee Crawford

I finally got a chance to sit down and talk with my best friend to find out what they think of my band. You guys aren’t gonna believe this but it turns out they love us!

Sure, they haven’t made it out to see my band, HotRod Diaper, in a long time but they promised they’ll be at the Knights of Columbus on Saturday fucking everyone up. Well, as long as there isn’t another escape at the prison by their house, late-night blood drive for earthquake victims, or a biblical case of the shits. There’s always a good reason they can’t make it to a show on Saturday night at the bar a mile from their apartment.

I’ve always been worried that they didn’t like the band because they never wears the shirts I gave them. Also, they make this funny face when I play our songs sometimes but I’m sure it’s because our mixes are so rough. I wish they’d just be truthful and tell me we deserve more money so we can have higher production value, but I understand that sometimes friends keep things to themselves to protect each other’s feelings.

Finally knowing for sure my best friend loves my band, I gave them the VIP treatment and personally explained how to find our Bandcamp, sign up for our newsletter, and accept our Top Fan award on Facebook. I really wanted to play them the new demos, but I guess they’ll have to hear them at the next show since I put them on the list. I love my honest friend! Aka our number one fan.

Punk House Residents Stand on Widow’s Walk Awaiting Return of Long Lost Roommate With That Other 30 Pack They All Chipped in For

Posted on by James Knapp

SWAMPSCOTT, Mass. — Residents of local punk house The Swamp were recently spotted tearfully eyeing the horizon in anticipation of their long lost roommate returning from voyage with the other case of Genesee Ice that they all threw him a few bucks for, gradually sobering sources confirmed.

“I can’t even remember how long it’s been since we saw our dear roommate Salty Fitz off on his long journey to Stop & Shop. Like, it’s been at least forty-five minutes but probably closer to twenty years by now,” regaled resident Tonya Shulfer while clutching several hand-picked black lillies. “I come out here often to await his return. Some of the others have given up hope and say that he probably crashed at his girlfriend’s apartment and isn’t coming back. But I still believe I’ll see him again before this buzz wears off. I have to believe it.”

Salty Fitz, who clarified his real name is Daniel Fitzgerald, detailed some of the hardships he has experienced so far on his journey for alcohol.

“Man, it is rough out here. I was tripping on psilocybin pretty hard when I left and immediately this huge sea-dog tried to swallow me whole!” explained Fitzgerald of an apparent run-in with his neighbor’s neutered cocker spaniel. “After that I was so far off course that finding my way back to the house has been almost impossible. But I’ll keep trying as long as it takes to return because honestly I forgot why my roommates sent me out here in the first place.”

Old-timey sea captain, Alabaster Edwards, shared his thoughts on the tradition of awaiting the return of those lost on long expeditions.

“Aye, many weary widows have wasted their lives longing for the sight of their dearly departed from upon the walk. It would feel more tragic if I hadn’t been the one who sent most of those crews to their doom,” said Edwards. “All I can say for these kids here is ‘don’t let a false hope guide you.’ Also, ‘go check the coffee table, because there’s a good chance he forgot the money you gave him to buy beer there anyway.’”

At press time, The Swamp residents had begun preparing a candlelight vigil before realizing they also sent Fitzgerald with the only functioning Bic lighter.

I Shot the Sheriff, but It Was Too Late Because He Already Killed Like 23 People

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

I went to the event this weekend. There were street artists, rides, food that was out of this world, and holy shit so much violence. I was trying to get one of those crazy bejeweled corn dogs that I kept hearing about all year when shit got crazy. There were gunshots and lots of screaming. Amidst the chaos, I found a gun lying in the street and while I’ve never actually fired one in my life, I started to feel that whole “good guy with a gun” thing that I always hear weird boomers talking about. Now all I had to do was find a bad guy!

There he was, discharging his weapon into a crowd of innocent civilians. That’s when I aimed, inhaled, and shot the sheriff. Unfortunately, he had already killed like 23 people. Shit.

That said, I did not shoot the deputy. The sheriff had actually already shot him. I guess they had a little kerfuffle earlier in the afternoon. But that wasn’t before he took out like 23 other people, kicked a dog, pushed over an old man, tipped over the corn dog cart (bummer, I was really looking forward to that), and told his entire precinct not to respond to any sort altercation in which public safety might be an issue on a large scale.

Afterward, I got on the ferris wheel to survey all the damage that was done and that’s when I realized I didn’t deliver a kill shot. The sheriff was only slightly wounded and he was beating the shit out of somebody trying to give away balloon animals to underprivileged children for not having a permit. Classic sheriff.