SEATTLE — Long-running punk outfit Wrought Iron Spleen chastised their audience at High Dive for making eye contact with substitute touring guitarist Leroy Paul, fans reported.
“Hey, HEY! Eyes up here on me, okay? Do not look at Leroy, he is absolutely NOT in Wrought Iron Spleen,” shouted singer Riley “Scotch” Smith, who begrudgingly hired Leroy Paul after realizing they can’t sing and play guitar solos at the same time. “He is basically a temp worker, and he won’t be here forever. Unfortunately there’s no room offstage for him, so he has to stand with us tonight on the real stage. Usually he’s behind a curtain. Just ignore him, or we’ll leave him here and it’s your problem.”
Paul expressed gratitude at being hired for Wrought Iron Spleen’s West Coast Tour while also articulating some reservations about the situation.
“I’m just, uh, happy to be here I guess. It’s fine, I don’t need any credit for the years of practice I put into guitar and my ability to memorize an entire band’s catalog of music in less than a week,” sighed Paul, who was reportedly heard calling his mom in Rhode Island asking her to pick him up. “I don’t mind that they routinely tell me that I’m not in the band, but it’d be nice if they at least gave me a shout out during band introductions before the last song. And it’s just awkward when they don’t let me sit at their table in Taco Bell or enter the green room. Look, I’m a person! And I’m playing all the hard parts! Stop being so mean.”
Experienced musicians offered some advice to bands who must hire a touring member due to circumstances beyond their control.
“It may sound callous, but you can’t even begin to let them think they’re part of the band. Or human,” explained Green Day frontman Billie Joe Armstrong. “We’ve had two dudes named Jason- I think that’s their names?- on retainer for decades now. And each day on tour, one of us watches as these guys make a pledge that they do NOT believe they are members of Green Day. Otherwise, they start expecting more money or comfortable lodgings and there’s no going back. How do you think Todd Morse joined The Offspring? Tragic. I can’t believe they let that happen.”
As of press time, many touring musicians have unionized to demand better recognition, led by touring bassists of Interpol, Paramore, The Who, Ghost, and boygenius.
2005 was a sort-of-not-as-good-sequel to 1994 in that many bands with the word “punk” in their description blew the hell up to the point of being on TRL often; Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and John Denver all put the “pop” in “pop-punk” or any other subgenre that is synonymous with this world in the mid-aughts. Sadly, Goldfinger didn’t really get any bigger this year, and this LP and other external factors about the post-Napster industry are both likely to blame for such. Honestly, albums one through four are the band’s peak LPs, but their fifth and last major label LP, “Disconnection Notice, ” likely, for lack of a better word disconnected, and in a witty non-Black Flag reference, damaged hardcore GF fans sans any notice altogether. Luckily the band’s 2008 record we are discussing next, and its two other 2010-and-beyond follow-ups weren’t as uncomfortable of a listen.
Goldfinger’s sixth album “Hello Destiny…” features an ellipsis as well as Bert McCracken of The Used, Monique Powell of Save Ferris, and Sergei “Punk AF” Rachmaninoff of Winger. The record is also the first/last GF release to come out via SideOneDummy Records, former home to The Gaslight Anthem, Jeff Rosenstock, and current home to an idiot laying on his side. Also, there is another feature that we won’t shout out because the singer is a deplorable cum dump, and that’s putting it EXTREMELY mildly, but Google and Wikipedia are both fun ventures, so take a gander if you’re feeling frisky; you likely won’t be very amused and you will eventually say goodbye to the idea of this individual being considered a human. Anyway, “Hello Destiny…” is definitely closer to the Goldfinger that you know/love like a milkshake, but the next six LPs to be mentioned are far better.
We hear that this is John Feldmann’s favorite Goldfinger album, and while we can’t fault him for such, we won’t say the same one out loud, and we hope that this ranking gets you what you need. Goldfinger became such a tight supergroup that one cannot cut ‘em with a knife on, err, “The Knife,” and new members Philip “Moon Valjean” Sneed formerly of Story of the Year rocks it on guitar/vocals, Mike Herrera currently/likely always of MxPx kills it on bass/vocals, and Travis Barker of hip-hop fame beats hits the drums hard. Eventually, Nick Gross of girlfriends joined the fold along with former/now current GF lead guitarist Charlie Paulson just one album later. Speaking of features, this record is a ska-punk hippity hop LP with members of One OK Rock, 311, blink-182, and Blue Oyster Cult playing the silver triangle like only Will Ferrell can.
Goldfingers newest and eighth LP, and first for Feldy’s, Nick Gross’, and former Vagrant Records’ executive Jon Cohen’s label Big Noise, is the band’s best since 2002, and that is not a joke! Big Noise also features The Used, 408, and The Shirelles, and has its own publishing and sync team, making the label a force in 2023 and beyond… An infinite one! Back to “Never Look”: Feldy must really like Save Ferris’ Monique Powell, as she proved that she was so much more than a Dexys Midnight Runners cover on both this and “Hello Destiny…” with a feature that hearkens to the golden days of the late-90s. Careful what you wish for, eh? Sowry for such a dumb question. We can’t wait for GF’s ninth album “Always Ignore Front,” which will be released in late-2024 after diarrhea stain Captain Covfefe wins in 2024.
In late-1999 Goldfinger released the epically to some, and meh for others cover record titled “Darrin’s Coconut Ass: Live from Omaha,” which has a sterling and satisfying cover of The Police’s underrated gem “Man in a Suitcase” from their also-underappreciated 1980 LP “Zenyatta Mondatta,” which, food for thought, is a mish-mosh title that apparently means “everything,” and just a few months later in March 2000 GF’s third LP “Stomping Ground” hit stores. Fun fact: The Japanese version of “Stomping Ground” also features some cover songs consisting of former drummer Darrin Pfeiffer’s booty, The Who, The Specials, and Morbid Angel. Back TO the US but not IN the USSR: Tracks one through six would’ve also made a sick EP, and if you think it’s a joke, bro, you are going to need some forgiveness, so get away and don’t say goodbye unless you want to pick a fight with us.
Angry Goldfinger is truly good Goldfinger, and “Open Your Eyes,” the band’s fourth album, is without question the band’s best LP from this century. Here is a youthful thesis statement for fathers from the band that encompasses many of the visually and aurally biting themes from “Open Your Eyes”: Fuck dads, love Wayne Gretzky, and utilize your spank bank every January… It’s good for your life! Furthermore, it’s also quite cool that over twenty years later in the year of our lord known as 2023, the band still opens some shows with our “play it again” track “Spokesman,” which cuts wood quicker than a woodchuck could ever hope to. On a serious note, the title track “Open Your Eyes” is a sad-but-true animal rights song explicitly listing the horrors of animal agriculture. Still, regardless of whether you’re a vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian, or carnivore, this album has something for everyone, except Ted Nugent.
This is the one that started it all, and it still really holds up! The only non-Feldy produced Goldfinger LP is self-titled for a reason. Easter egg for all denominations: Nearly twenty-five years after “Goldfinger” came out, the alien babe from its album cover also appears on the band’s newest LP “Never Look Back,” thus bookending the space lady as queen for a day, month, year, and century! Also, “Here In Your Bedroom,” featuring one of the coolest and poorly covered bass lines of all time, was a legit hit for the four-piece, and “Mable,” featuring puppy dogs, flowers, trees, Charlie’s package, and curly hair reminiscent of Annie, was a minor one. To showcase our love for this perfect LP and its follow-up below, there are no “skip it” tracks listed for either. Please stay.
Post-WWII, Americans were comfortable that evil had been vanquished in 1945 even though racism, sexism, homophobia, and puritanical values thrived in the states. Scholastic reminded us when Ax took the form of a rattlesnake and bit a fellow Andalite in an attempt to kill Visser Three that sometimes America treads on itself.
In this book, the Animorphs and a band of well-intended space extremists require a human shield to save them from dying at the hands of the Yeerks. Scholastic wanted us to remember that fascists will murder and imprison the most vulnerable members of society first as a way to consolidate power.
In 2023, America is literally a sick horse stumbling around the midwestern plain states, but everyone is too focused on Martians to see what’s really going on. Coincidentally, that is exactly how this book from 1997 starts. The only problem is that we can’t horse morph to get away from all this bullshit. I really wish I could fucking horse morph.
In this subversive check on the pulse of fascism in the United States, the Yeerks have set up a logging company and are deforesting in an attempt to find Andelites in hiding. If that doesn’t sound like industry being used to punish and exploit dissidents, I clearly don’t understand metaphors.
You couldn’t foreshadow the coming of Donald Trump any better than writing a sci-fi YA fantasy novel where the heroes need to break into a Marriott Resort. AND WHILE THEY’RE IN THE RESORT, THE FUCKING ANIMORPHS DISCOVER SECRET DOCUMENTS WITH PLANS TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT, YOU GUYS.
It fits the bill, but “Mom and Dad” is a concept so close to “Go to work” in my brain that this one does nothing for me in terms of distracting me from my horrible fate.
Sure, it’s fun, but it’s still a movie about someone who’s at work, which is the last thing I need. I would be too preoccupied with thoughts like “fuck my life” and “Isn’t clopening supposed to be illegal?” to get into this one.
No matter how many times I watch this movie, it never quite registers in my brain. It’s confounding that a movie about a space duck is this boring. Plus I think the duck winds up sleeping with the lady? And it’s a Marvel movie? The confusion to comfort level is way off here.
Not the fantasy movie I need, but probably the one I deserve. Krull is a mess. It’s got a lead actor who smiles like he’s won a contest the whole time, who wields “The Glaive,” a magical, unnecessarily complicated pocket knife, to defeat aliens who ride horses. How is something that weird this boring?
Nice cozy Saturday morning kids show energy completely devoid of plot, “Megaforce” would be the perfect thing to finally lull me to sleep if not for the cornball dialogue and dated ‘80s misogyny making it occasionally jarring and, if I’m being honest, funny.
Just let this movie whisk you away to a time when it was just you and your friends on bikes pretending to do missions and stuff, blissfully unaware of student loans, economic recessions and utility shut-off notices.
What could be cozier than harkening back to a time before kids knew the Nintendo Power Glove sucked shit?
Part “Conan The Barbarian,” part “Dr. Doolittle,” all Dar. ‘The Beastmaster” is a wonderful slice of cheesy ‘80s escapism, slightly soured by your adult mind wondering how well all those animals were treated on set.
It won’t give you the desperately needed rapid eye movement that keeps your sanity intact, but watching “Tank Girl” is maybe the closest you can come to having a dream while still awake. The logic of this movie is insane. There are inexplicable jumps in the action, animations that may or may not be happening in the world, 4th wall breaks, Ice T as a mutant kangaroo and heavily implied beastiality. It’s a mess, and so are you.
Asking yourself “Can Val Kilmer and his crew use their kid genius intellect and precociousness to stop the evil government laser in time?” is a lot more fun than asking yourself “Am I working with creepy Mike all day tomorrow?”
It’s sort of like “Nightbreed” for kids, or “Monster’s Inc.” with cozy practical effects. Just let blue Howie Mandel drag you under the bed to a magical world where… you know what actually I just talked myself out of this one.
There was a time before toxic internet fandom where movie versions of established IP didn’t have to answer to anybody. If it weren’t for everyone calling Ivan Drago “He-Man” you wouldn’t even know this was supposed to be a He-Man movie, but that’s what makes it singular, weird and great. Go ahead and bask in the glow of this bonkers Cannon Films epic before schlupping off to work and listening to your nerd coworkers complain that Admiral Thrawn in Ahsoka doesn’t accurately hold up to the Star Wars Legends continuity, whatever the hell that means.
What better place to escape to than the magical land of Oz? And why settle for the for the cutesy Judie Garland version of Oz when you can have this fucking madness? Watching the alienating, confusing and horrifying spectacle that is “Return to Oz” is perfect conditioning for the sleepless 8-hour shift that awaits you.
You remember “Clash of the Titans,” don’t you? Sure you do! Back in the days of cable TV, when you were home sick from school desperately channel surfing for something that would appeal to you? It was this or “Price is Right” and at least this had monsters and stuff, so you watched it? Watching it now will awaken those memories and subconsciously tell your body “I am being comforted” and “Something is wrong,” both true!
Ninjutsu, surfing, a magical Sega Game Gear and the guy from the “Naked Gun” movies for some reason. It’s all here, ready to get that sweet sweet nostalgia dopamine flowing enough to make you think “Maybe another 8-hour round of dealing with coworkers I’m sick of and the uncaffeinated public isn’t the fate worse than death I’m making it out to be.” Maybe.
Hearts are quasi-important for staying alive, but sadly this effort, GC’s fifth album “Cardiology,” truly isn’t. If “Cardiology” was removed from everyone’s iPhones and brains as quickly as U2’s “free” one was from yours, the overall career of Good Charlotte would have far less filler, much more killer, and this piece would be much chiller. We honestly don’t think that the most ardent GC fans would miss “Cardiology” THAT much. Maybe we’re wrong here just this once, but we know you’re always incorrect in everything that you say, do, and have yet to do. Still, “Let The Music Play” would’ve been a solid addition to any GC LP, as it held up then and does even more so now. This album was the band’s last before their almost four-year hiatus, and happily they returned closer to form with their next two LPs.
“Generation Rx” is the seventh LP from Good Charlotte, and their most recent full-length effort that you likely didn’t know existed… Well you should! Much like their yet-to-be-mentioned third record, this one is dark AF, and catchy as Covid right this very moment. At just nine tracks, “Generation Rx,” is GC’s shortest album, but it honestly could’ve been shorter, despite the fact that this LP has FIVE freaking singles, or a solid four to five-song EP front-to-back. Even BAD Charlotte is GOOD music, so this very thoughtful, deliberate, and sincere collection of songs deserves your time, demons, and actual pain. Fun fact: The MUSYCA Children’s Choir, which stands for Musical Youth of California and not Maryland, shines on track seven, “Leech,” featuring Sam Carter of British metal act Architects, and track eight, “Better Demons,” featuring Satan of Klezmer fame. The way you say you love us is by listening.
Life can’t get much better: Good Charlotte’s sixth album “Youth Authority” is the band’s best album since 2007’s “Good Morning Revival,” and its first track “Life Changes” is among one of the better pop-punk LP opening songs… We own this statement! Also, in a manner that makes an Easter Egg look more like a cruddy ornament, the band proved that they were clever by closing this album with a song called “Moving On,” when they had previously ended their 2002 breakout sophomore LP “The Young and the Hopeless” with its cool apostrophe slang version called “Movin’ On”; we see you. It’s clear that the band stuck to their personal five guns, kept fighting the good fight with swingin’ hands, and proved that they had more of a reason to stay with “Youth Authority,” as they literally are one for the youthful Hot Topic world.
When one thinks of Good Charlotte, said thought typically doesn’t include Orange County’s Avenged Sevenfold, but GC’s fourth album “Good Morning Revival” certainly changed that for many outside of the 714 with their MTV-staple single “The River,” which featured A7X vocalist M. Shadows and the band’s lead guitarist Synyster Gates. Working with Don Gilmore, who also produced the band’s self-titled debut album and Linkin Park’s first, GC incorporated more dance-rock and new-wave elements into this LP than any others up to that point, and fans all over the world ate it up, especially “Dance Floor Anthem (I Don’t Want to Be in Love),” which was easily one of the more “pop” single in the band’s saccharine-in-a-good-way catalog. Recorded in both Vancouver and LA, “Good Morning Revival” sounds huger than both Bowen Island and Van Nuys combined, and has the distinction of being very successful whilst being underrated. March on.
Little things that are far less complicated than whatever Avril Lavigne sang about: If you had a chance to catch Good Charlotte on tour with MxPx and Ultimate Fakebook on tour for this album, you caught a solid/unforgettable show, and are cooler than Stroke 9 fans wearing little black backpacks, but not as cool as Nine Days’ peeps repeatedly cycling through the story of a girl. Your clothes never wear as well the next day, and you can literally hear the youth that is yet to be an authority in these songs. Basically, this LP has resonated so strongly with many fans young and old who claim it is their best, and will scold us in the comments for contradicting such an objectively/subjectively incorrect opinion. We hear you screaming, but you’re wrong, and you should change your proclamations that do little to motivate anyone but your selfish selves.
A new beginning? Oftentimes a band’s second major label record is a version of its former on steroids, without reinventing the wheel that it once rode on. “The Young and the Hopeless” is just that in a nutshell, but with FAR more emotionless and riotous squirrels of all genders. Good Charlotte took over the rock/roll/pop/punk world with guyliner, spiky hair that skyscrapers were jealous of, and so much more with this fourteen-track LP, and have proof of such with sales of over three million in the United States, and countless poor imitation bands attempting to sing about high schools feeling more like a jail cell than a crab cake. Also, TRL in the early aughts owes this band several royalty checks till the day that this band dies, and then some, as their descendents’ descendents have lots of looming expenses which include pounds and pounds of pomade.
The Madden Brothers, Sir Joel and Corporal Benji, plus guitarist Billy Martin, bassist Paul Thomas, and former drummer Chris Wilson, also of the underrated (The) Summer Obsession after his GC departure, made a perfect record called “The Chronicles of Life and Death,” which includes zero “skip it” tracks here; Dean Butterworth joined the band just one year later, and that lineup still stands today, which is a great feat in ANY musical genre. Anyway, this specific gold medal-winning placement may shock and/or offend anyone who ever heard of Good Charlotte, but that’s just what we believe, and we like being far from predictable whilst telling the truth! If you ever wanted to hear GC if they listened to more Silverchair than H2O, then this third album is for you. If not, maybe walk away or something? Seriously, we don’t care in this world or any other.
