The Zine Pile_ round 1

[Garbage World Fanzine, vol 1]




Canadians know what's up in hardcore, and though not located in a more convenient tour location like Toronto and Montreal, Calgary is happening, and this zine is proof. Jason Scharf is the man behind this zine, assembling show photos and conjoining interviews as a way to "give back to hardcore." Noted in the intro, he'll travel far and wide to go hard in a great pit of a great band, he can get shit offensive about things, has no musical talent, and doesn't give a fuck - and I respect that atttitude. Some pretty entertaining interviews from bands like The Ropes (Chicago), Scab (UK), Vacant State (Vancouver, CAN), and White Wards (Olympia), and, especially, some really insightful facts about hardcore in Canada. Apparently Victoria is a "god forsaken piss soaked tourist corpse" (White Ward), much of the sounds of Vancouver doesn't get out of the city due to geographical restrictions, and outsiders of the country like Scab have much love and acknowledgment of the scene. I look forward to the next issue, and in all curiousness I hope it comes equipped with more insider info from those North of the border because that's what zines were all about before the internet happened, right? I'll admit I almost whipped out my red pen because there are a lot of typos and fragments and errors that make the skin of an anal, journalism graduate like me prickle. But the wall-worthy xeroxed photos, pleasantly succinct content, and leaving Scab's winking emoticons be left me feeling lenient, for now.

Send an email to Jason at droppinthekidsinthepool[at]gmail.com to see if any are available/pick up a copy for yourself. The first print runs in 80 copies. Oh, and photos I took from the Columbus Ropes show are in this zine as well.

[Fashionable Activisim, issues 1 and 2]



Kevin McCaughey, a.k.a. 1/2 of Fashionable Activism and known in the punk\internet/VLV\Tumblr world as negativekevin, stayed at my place for a hot week last month to experience New York City. While doing so he dropped off copies of his online-to-print zine, including the latest issue that came out last fall. In its hardcore punk fanzine form, Fashionable Activism transports the wittingly opinionated reviews and ramblings of its star creator onto a visually pleasing medium. The interviews thrown in, nonexistent in its online form, are proof that NegiKev ( o.k. with being "young, dumb, and full of cum") is not only doing his homework, but actively seeking to learn more. As a reader you get to participate in that through the conversations with today's noteworthy acts like Mauser and The Men. "The purpose of this zine is the proper documentation of hardcore 2010, and to express my current taste and feeling of this whole shit." Of course, it would be disappointing if it the zine didn't incorporate the snarky, love-me-or-hate-me, opinionated voice of yours truly.

Both issues are available (looks like they were reissued) at Kevin's Pass Judgement Records webstore.

[Our Show with Elliot Aronow Zine, winter/issue 1]


Commonly described by various outlets as "if GQ became a DIY punk zine," the first issue of Our Show successfully reeled in a new fan. I'm loving this whole punks go dapper overhaul among friends and strangers, and frankly there's nothing wrong with a man who takes good care of himself. Google Elliot Aronow and you'll find that not only is he the climbing tastemaker in culture and lifestyle - and being other cool things like co-founder of RCRD LBL and writer behind Kanye Wests' press bio, but this handsome fella never shies away from the opportunity to bust out a Cro-Mags shirt and oh my gods I can't even... Swoon with a capital S. Anyway, slightly digressing, taking on the fashion of your everyday punk zine, Our Show's entire 42-page, black and white spread is "a social alchemy at work," but his social circle is the cool kids kids club with more mainstream accolades, and a more refined taste for nice things than your average zinester. (Am I really using that word? Oh well.) Poetry-cum-screenshot of an iPhone conversation from Diplo, a photo spread by Yeah Yeah Yeah's Nick Zinner, AND a comprehensive crash course on tailoring and the perfect suit?! This NYC-centric zine harks back to the core practices of a DIY zine, extricating the information overload of the internet age (be this, do that, buy this, listen that) and cut it down to what Aronow finds to be truly insightful, truly necessary, one issue at a time.

Copies of this zine are scattered throughout record stores and boutiques in the NYC area. Non-residents can e-mail Elliot at elliot[a]itsourshow.com for a copy, if there are still any available. Hand-numbered, out of 300.

[Phil Knott's Tally Ho!]




The first time I ever had a magazine personally distributed to me by its bike-riding creator was with this issue. I found that moment very charming. Whether you've noticed or not, it's very likely that you've come across Phil Knott's works. His photography ranges from portraits of Broadcast to Jay-Z, his love of desaturated color and collage turned into a design for Hot Hot Heat's "Elevator" album, and his talent of tinkering with color and photography brings out a very vivid presentation of attitude and sound from his subjects. His works, in sum, are music you listen with your eyes. Knott's Tally Ho! pieces together not only his works, but works of artists like Mick Rock and Anthony Lister who are dedicated to reflecting and translating the cultures of modern life through striking works of art. It's a beautifully, understated cycle shown in print by Knott: the sociopolitical push on emotion which creates music which sticks to the minds of its listeners who use a medium like art to evoke commentary and feelings. The classics of rock and roll, David Bowie to Joy Division, are hand-in-hand with the artist in this particular tango.

75,000 copies in ciruculation. Available in newsstands, premiere book chains, and fine art galleries worldwide.

If I haven't made it more obvious, I love zines. If there's any out there that you think I may be into and really should check out, shoot me an e-mail with more information. Ciao x

Life in One Hour.

Wanderlust.

Athens, Ohio's "Boogie on the Bricks." View from the south side of the street. Basically like a college street party except the general 21+ crowd gets beyond buzzed on craft beer and jives to daddy rock.

Achtung, I am one step away from finally getting my college degree. I turned in my final paper for my writing and rhetoric class around 7 a.m. today, then blacked out from my iced-coffee fueled all nighter. On the bright side of things my online Shakespeare class will be done in 5 weeks, I somehow found a way to squeeze a little money out of this small town by babysitting two kids, the Etsy store is finally open, and I have all the time in the world to prepare for my move, discover new music, and do a little bit of traveling (on a budget).

Speaking of traveling and music, feels like it's been over a month since I last been to a show (and therefore suffering a dry spell). Being chained to schoolwork was a great way to save money - enough to make it out to these following shows. (Still pretty bummed to have missed Wiccans, Milk Music, and [just now] the Backslider/Disciple of Christ duo these past few weeks.) Hope to see some of you guys out there. I'm looking forward to doing some reviews + photo recaps of these shows (linked for info/ticket vendor):

7.26 to 7.29_ Chicago birthday
7.30_ KVLT V: INTO THE DARK. DAYLONG FESTIVAL feat. Teengirl Fantasy, Pictureplane (!), Gatekeeper (!), Todd Pendu (of Pendu NYC), Textbeak, Funerals, I†† & more @ Double Happiness, Columbus, OH. adv. $10 tickets here.
8.2_ Cold Cave, Austra @ The Grog Shop, Cleveland. $12adv/$14door. Tickets here.
8.3_ Crystal Castles @ Newport Music Hall, Columbus, OH.
8.9_ ICEAGE, The Men, White Walls, Unholy Two, Scavenger @ Carabar, Columbus, OH. FUCKING FREEEEE SO DON'T MISS THIS OHIO (but damn that means I have to miss the soon after Avon Ladies show, blech)
8.13_ MAD DECENT BLOCK PARTY feat. Dillon Francis, Dawn Golden & Rosy Cross, Bosco Delrey, Kito, Reptar, Lunice, Benzi and Curren$y @ Wicker Park area, Chicago. FREEE
8.19_ bye Ohio

Gatekeeper is entrancing live and I feel like I'm in some sci-fi underworld every time I hear their stuff. The video above is from their set at the Secret Project Robot in Brooklyn. I'm not hard to spot in that video: I'm the one getting my dance on. Particularly excited with this dance marathon and my little break with the astounding bill for the Carabar show. That will spark an exciting overview of booze-fueled fun. As far as the Mad Decent Block Party, Chicagoans looking to gyrate against the August heatwave and are down with moombahton should hollar at me, my crop top, and my air horn. That's not completely set in stone, but I certainly don't want to miss this.

Edit: re-opened my Netflix account now that I'm less occupied. Two thumbs down to the extra charge for DVDs (first world problems); thumbs up to my fattened instant queue dashboard. Which reminds me, I need to check out Spotify soon because everyone's raving over how it's the music of Netflix... yes?

5_13. THE ROPES/SOUTHSIDE STRANGLERS/ROCKS AT COPS/HARDTIME @ The White House

Any punk on the block will agree that basement shows make the best venue for punk music. There's no better backdrop for spit riddled snooty screams, spastic riffs, and some crowd bulldozing action than a dusty, humid basement.

The flyer for tonight's show that features The Ropes, Southside Stranglers, and locals Rocks At Cops and Hardtime, says the show starts at 8 p.m. "sharp," so I arrived around 8:40 assuming the show functions on punk time. My mental clock wasn't punk enough to guess that the show started, instead, around 9:20 p.m. After chilling on the steps of the White House, the house-cum-punk venue located just off of Columbus’s High Street, and passing time drinking cans of PBR, guitar feedback shook the living room floors signaling the start of the show. I made my way through some couch potatoes watching sports on T.V. to the tiny basement and propped myself against the damp brick wall.

The locals opened the show and Rocks At Cops was the first to take the plate. I'm surprised I didn't have blood trail out of my ears because prior to starting, guitar feedback took over for a good three minutes. As if super glue kept them in place, Rocks At Cops remained static while hastily ripping through some fast hardcore tracks - so fast, that my recollections of that set are all too blurry. I do remember a sparse crowd, arms crossed and timidly throwing their heads down when the guitars got melodic (if a band like this even had a melodic part), but that's always the curse of opening acts.



Hardtime was next on the bill, and fronting the New York hardcore cover group is one of the tenants of the house. When I hear that band name, I think of Cro-Mag's "Hard Times," so I knew that this show was about to get ignorant. Tucker Lappi, the vocalist, spent the past 5 years fronting his other hardcore projects Triceratops and Forget It, so naturally he's a master on the mic. I have a terrible ear when it comes to recognizing what songs are being covered - even if it's by a band as inimitable as The Misfits. Admittedly I don't remember exactly what songs were covered that night. I can assess that Hardtime put on one flawlessly brutal set. The crowd could not resist hard stomping to the tumbling, storm chugging sounds of New York Hardcore, and at one point a modest pile-on formed during a crucial sing-along.



The show took a slight shift to a more denotative punk sound. I say denotative because Richmond's Southside Stranglers played the straight-up, rock 'n' roll garage punk - the kind that, as the vocalist Kenny pointed out, "your girlfriend probably listens to." Interesting to see the ex-Government Warning frontman make this switch for the '80s hardcore sound. Whatever, Southside Stranglers had the audience shuffling and getting into the whiskey-fueled fun of their melodic numbers. I couldn't keep count on how many times Kenny stumbled into the crowd, locked lips with his bottle of whiskey, and was constantly in tango with an equally animated crowd member who, during song transition, heckled the band to "play something that's up the punx."



Finally the night capped off with the act everyone wanted to see: Chicago's The Ropes - a.k.a., basically The Repos with a name change and slower sound. As everyone crowded around the band's merch table to get a piece of their 100 copies exclusive tape release, the basement was packed to the brim. The bassist took a long drag of his cigarettes before The Ropes blew away the audience with its cacophonous blast of barking vocals and blown out guitars. When that guitar wails, a section of the audience gets a pile drive, and those up front were seeing red when "Heads Will Roll" erupted body shuffles and sing-alongs. I was upstairs snagging a tape and t-shirt when the "set" was over, missing the encore that left everyone seemingly satisfied according to the roars and clapping. This would be one of the last two chances for Ohioians to see the band before they check out of touring until the end of 2011. This night left everyone walking out of the house with a satisfied punk fix and ready to take on another house for the after-party.

5_6 - 8. Chicago

I don't think I'm going to add too much commentary about this weekend. Overall, I had a blast and realized that I had a lot more friends living out there than I thought. Always wanted to go to Chicago before the school year ended and this seemed like the best time to do so.

I took the Megabus up to this city to hang out with some Ohio University friends and celebrate the quarter of a century's worth of Miss Julie Wainwright's life. She's a dear friend of mine and former co-conspirator of the Athens punk scene back in '08. The food and beverage menu of the party consist of Taco Bell hard shells and a Baja Blast mixed drink - which was as dangerous, if not more, as the green turkey drink the girls had back at the Zack Morris house. Absent from the party were igniting bottle rockets and a long list of peeps who were part of the '07-'08 crew.

I had plenty of time on my hands to explore the city and its night life. When I wasn't chilling on Chicago Ave. and eating over some wine with the roommates, who are both me and Julie's good friends, I was tagging along my friend Kevin. Friday night, we went to some warehouse where a bunch of artists lived and threw free shows. Broken Water played on the bill, and aside from technological difficulties that often involved some inconsiderate individuals stepping on the guitar pedal, they put on one hell of a show - singer/drummer in her underwear and sheer tee and all. I was pretty happy about this, because I had to ditch their Athens show earlier that week for an all-nighter on an English paper/presentation due the following day. Saturday, before going to Julie's birthday fete, we went and saw Libyans, Skrapyard, Daylight Robbery, Scabs, and The Outs at a relatively new space not far from Kevin's house. I ended up seeing only the last three bands because I had to walk out the whole neighborhood to figure out that N Albany is split by 3 streets. I lost it when I saw the Jack Skellington come to force in the pit, because you don't see that anywhere unless you're at a Chicago show or a Chicago band and its crew come to your town.

Sunday I accompanied him on a museum trip to the Art Institute. We only had 30 minutes to explore the museum because the place closed at 5 on Sundays, and somehow we managed to snake our way through - if I remember - 16th century, post-impressionist, and the contemporary exhibits before we were forced to scram. After watching tourists stare in amazement at the Cloud Gate with their Nikon D40s in tow, we made a brief stop around the corner at Reckless records before parting ways. I came home to the roommates throwing a small slumber dinner party over Smoking Aces 2 on Netflix, sat through the atrocity of the film, then frantically packed and took a taxi downtown when I realized my bus leaves Union Square at 10 p.m. sharp. Taking an overnight bus to your 10 a.m. class is a miserable experience.