Review Summary: A punk rock cheap beer manifesto
Berkeley in 1991 was a much different place then it is today: Green Day had yet to become MTV darlings, Gilman Street was at its community apex, 40 Oz beers were $1.99, you could catch Jawbreaker at house parties, Neurosis was still a hardcore band, Maximum Rock n’ Roll was at the zenith of its cultural eminence, and the hugely influential Amoeba Records was less than a year old. This tightknit Northern California community of, “bicycle messengers, punks, and art-school dropouts,” fostered an incredible amount of diverse talent in the early 90’s, with both Blatz and Filth being no exceptions. But, where many of their contemporaries would go on to durable, celebrated careers, Filth and Blatz would only release a handful of 7” singles apiece, and this one split LP, the sophisticatedly named, "*** Split," on the venerable Lookout! Records. An unapologetically straight-forward punk rock record with no “post,” anything, no aspirations to commercial success, and no pretensions at musical bravado. The LP is confrontational, sloppy, tongue-in-cheek at moments, and colored by the somewhat silly, “smash the state, burn the church,” punk rock politics of the time. But the LP is also chockfull of catchy, driving, brazen, and brilliantly snotty punk rock that to this day sounds amazing in all of its alcohol-drenched, middle-finger-fits of juvenile-delinquent vim and venom.
Alternative Tentacles has repressed this LP on CD with additional tracks, but this review is of the good ol’ fashioned 12” split. Let’s begin with the Blatz side. There is a facet of early 90’s West Coast punk that was; altruistic, level-headed, serious-yet-thoughtful, and morally sound, all of which, Blatz were not. They were the antipodes of that. They were cynical, schizophrenic, playful-yet-quarrelsome, and a charmingly unhinged display of brash debauchery and dark punk rock vitriol. This smart-alecky East Bay punk band, eponymously named after the cheap-as-piss beer, featured 6 members, of which 3 were vocalists, 2 being female, and one being male. Drawing parallels to early X (circa Los Angeles) is the most logical comparison, and the opener, Homemade Speed, is a textbook Blatz song that does lend itself to X’s streetwise punk swagger. Blatz’s unnerving lyrical motifs might not be as literary as X’s, "Johnny Hit and Run Paulene," but they are still a dark, sometimes wry, but always genuine, depiction of the gritty East Bay. They were quick-witted, cranky, snarky, drunk and impenitent. But Blatz also played crafty, well-written punk rock that cleverly borrowed from early 80’s punk rock bands like The Germs, Avengers, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, and especially The Rezillos, as Blatz incorporated some of that bands penchants for pop hooks and short, stabbing guitar lines. A sometimes polarizing element is the eleventh-hour, screeching, screaming vocals (I always thought Kathleen Hannah must have loved this LP), but I think they work perfectly, sounding spiteful and derisive, but always staying mischievous and flippant. And even with all of this caustic cattiness, Blatz manage to cram an LP’s worth of striking hooks, and back-alley storytelling into the nine songs that comprise their half of the LP.
The Blatz side ends with one of the most ridiculously magnificent testaments to unrestrained, alcohol-saturated, punk rock inhibition maybe ever recorded, the elegantly titled, "F*** S***Up." The anti-authoritative motivation that got most of us into punk rock in the first place is delightfully condensed here in all of its anthemic punks-vs-the-world approach. It’s a snotty ode to anarchic abandon and all the satirical rage we have as kids. But, underneath that wonderful youthful abandon, is pure punk rock gold, almost a pop-punk anthem for the ages, with an inanely churlish gang-style chorus of, “tonight, we’re gonna F*** s*** up.” There is zero pretention in a song called, "F*** S*** Up," and, in today’s hyper-critical, post-everything world of high-brow underground music, that’s not only refreshing, but reminds me that punk rock is usually played best by inexperienced drunk teenagers with crappy attitudes and good record collections.
All of this pertains to Filth, who play an indignant, “f*** you, f*** the system,” brand of catchy hardcore reminiscent of early 80’s punk like The Subhumans, and Conflict. In contrast to these bands Filth seemed to be intuitively influenced by the East Bay pop punk revolution brewing all around them. Because below these crusty, hardcore invectives are huge slaphappy hooks, unquestionable pop tendencies, ‘gargling Old Crow and razor-blades’ vocals, and even a sense of humor with the well-played Peter & The Test Tube Babies cover. It’s kind of like the entire East Bay pop punk scene of 1989 unconsciously meshed with the band’s favorite 2nd wave punk rock bands like the UK Subs and Crass. This isn’t to imply the songs lack edge. In fact, the songs are so on edge it’s slightly alarming at times. Songs like, “You Are S***,” and, “Night Of Rage,” are classic punk rock diatribes, played loud, fast, sloppy and full of runaway rage and frustration, with just a pinch of gutter-punk. There are aspects of dark-hardcore and crust that colors the Filth side. Though it’s tame in contrast to other hardcore bands of the time like Econochrist or Capitalist Casualties, it still gives these popped-up-hardcore songs an even fuller sound.
The Gilman street scene that spawned Filth shaped some of the biggest bands of the last 25 years (Green Day, Neurosis, Jawbreaker, Rancid, etc), and it is somewhat ironic that in 1991 Filth would release the song, "The List," on their half of the 12”. "The List," is a call to arms of sorts, a song about not selling out and keeping the punk community united. But, In 1991 NOBODY thought that any of these little bay area bands would achieve the success they did, giving the song prophetic impact in retrospect. Hindsight aside, "The List," is one of the greatest punk rock anthems ever written. Opening with a hazily familiar hook, followed by a tried-and-true punk rock chord progression, "The List," is certainly not a post-modern art-school missive, but an impeccable encapsulation of everything that is instinctually brilliant about punk rock: It’s a fist-in-the-air-anthem, it’s pissed off, provocative, and more than anything, extremely f****** catchy! This just may be the supreme pop-crust song ever written, and an enduring classic (the Pg.99 cover is an impressive example of this song’s sustained inspiration).
Punk rock when done right is timeless. It’s a perpetual snapshot of youthful rebellion, creativity, and hedonism. On, "The List," Jake Filth sardonically screams at the ‘millions long,’ list of sell-outs, ‘teenage rebellion is just fine, as long as you stop once you turn eighteen.’ It’s been almost a quarter of a century since the *** Split 12” originally came out. Times have changed, music has altered, and that original generation of East Bay punk rockers have come and gone and now have their own kids. This new generation of East Bay punk rockers attend shows at Gilman Street, worships Neurosis, shop at Amoeba Records, drink $1.99 40’s on the tracks, read Maximum Rock n’ Roll, start punk bands, and sing along to “The List,”….hmmm, ”perhaps the list is only hundreds long.”
