Help Mike! A Benefit for Middle Class Guitarist Mike Atta

The Echo Presents

Help Mike! A Benefit for Middle Class Guitarist Mike Atta

Adolescents, Mike Watt & The Missingmen, 45 Grave, Audacity, White Flag, The Abigails, Channel 3, The Garden, Agent Orange, White Night, The Urinals, Shattered Faith

Fri, January 25, 2013

7:30 pm

Echoplex

Los Angeles, CA

$17.00 - $200.00

This event is 18 and over

Mistress of Ceremonies will be ALICE BAG from THE BAGS

Adolescents
Adolescents
Adolescents from Fullurton, CA
Mike Watt & The Missingmen
Mike Watt & The Missingmen
written by Karen Schoemer - October, 2005

I first met Mike Watt was in 1995, when he was on tour for his album Ball-Hog or Tugboat?. I wasn't familiar with much of his other work, but I wanted to interview him because I was interested in roots music, and Watt's former band the Minutemen was roots music--the roots of American punk rock. Ball-Hog or Tugboat? was billed as his first solo album, but it functioned as a tribute album as well, featuring guest appearances by members of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Bikini Kill, the Germs, the Meat Puppets, and other punk and punk-influenced bands. Joining Watt on the tour were drummer Dave Grohl, Pearl Jam singer Eddie Vedder, and Lemonheads frontman Evan Dando. I wanted to know why guys like Grohl and Vedder--they were genuine rock stars; they sold millions of records, they were all over MTV--wanted to hang around someone who was basically unknown outside of college radio. So I met Watt one night backstage. He was wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt, his hair was turning gray, and he had an unusual way of avoiding eye contact: he'd look at the table or the floor or sideways at the wall, but the moment I looked away his eyes were on me, staring with a gaze that peeled my skin. He seemed shy and self-conscious one moment, a roaring bear the next. I didn't have to ask many questions, because despite his apparent discomfort, Watt talked almost without pause, using vocabulary words like spiel and thudstuff that were strange to me, making references to people or places from his punk-rock past that went over my head, and stringing together thoughts and reflections in an improvisatory way that I couldn't always follow.

Despite these gaps in communication, there was something about Watt that I did understand, something weirdly beyond words or explanations. See, I'm not punk rock. I like melodies, I'm very amenable to violins and folky sounds, I've never dyed my hair or punched anybody, I've never crowd-surfed or been spat upon, I'm not an outward antagonist, and I think there's a valid case to be made, as far as the history of rock is concerned, for the conformity that pop music represents. When I was thirteen in 1979 a kid named Ed Biehl sat next to me on the bus, ranting about how great punk rock was and I shouldn't believe what they said on the news and I should really check it out because he thought I would like it, and I looked at him and said flatly, "I would never listen to that music." Well, I grew out of that narrow-mindedness, thankfully, but even after I got into college and worked at the radio station and heard Sonic Youth and the Birthday Party for the first time, punk rock remained kind of scary to me, and when I got into my twenties and wasn't scared of it anymore, I still felt a little uncomfortable around really extreme expressions of it, and left hardcore and most of the Homestead Records catalog alone. But when I met Watt, suddenly punk rock revealed itself to me in a new way. I realized that I didn't have to practice it, so to speak, in my daily life in order to love it and appreciate why it mattered. It was as though I met punk rock itself that day, not just a person who played it. I guess that's a weird thing to say. But from that day on, Watt has been my touchstone, my living embodiment of what punk rock means. And I think I'm not the only one. Maybe next-generation musicians like Grohl and Dando and Vedder feel that way, too, and that's why they like being around him. As long as Watt is here, punk rock stays true to itself. He nurtures it, helps it stay healthy, and in doing so points the rest of us in the right direction. He's the lighthouse keeper.

What I've learned through Watt is that some of the conventional wisdom that has grown up around punk rock over the past twenty-five or thirty years--that's it's loud, angry, violent, confrontational, macho, primitive, harsh, unpleasing--doesn't always pan out; those surface truisms contain deeper complexities. Punk rock at its best is thoughtful, inquisitive, hopeful, redemptive, illuminating, eloquent, passionate. In the fall of 2004 I went to see Watt on his "El Mar Cura Todo" tour in support of his most recent album, The Secondman's Middle Stand. This is his "sickness" opera, written about a perineal infection that had almost killed him. The music was a vehement marriage of avant-garde jazz and prog rock, with stop-and-start drum rhythms and complex bass patterns battering a shrill wheez of Hammond organ. The sound system that night wasn't very good, so I couldn't hear many lyrics, but I caught phrases about vomiting, piss bags, and tubing. Watt was singing and playing his bass so intensely that the veins on his neck jutted out. It was difficult music, but I hung in there for it, and I got the feeling that I always get with Watt: that he lays himself on the line, that he pushes himself as far as he can go, that he gives up every ounce of his brainpower, bodypower, heart, and soul. And while the sickness opera is probably never going to be my favorite work of his, it brought something to light that night that I'd never noticed before. Like a real artist, Watt puts what he's got out there; he doesn't edit it or censor himself in order to please the audience. He makes sense of his world and his life through his music, and doesn't flinch from the tougher parts. In that way he reminds me of Neil Young and Bob Dylan, two other rock guys whom, at their best or even not-best, you always want to keep an eye on. And what that made me realize was this: that the best punk rock transcends punk rock, and enters into a realm more glorious and revolutionary, which is art.

I followed Watt's path to punk rock; he laid his own. He was born on December 20, 1957 in Portsmouth, Virginia, the son of a navy sailor. Dick Watt had enlisted when he was seventeen, and attended boot camp in Chicago. Watt's mom, Melinda, had grown up in a coal-mining town in Wyoming; when the coal ran out, the town closed, and her family resettled in Peoria, Illinois. "For midwest people, I think Chicago is the big town," Watt says. "So she went up there, and that's where she met my pop. That's where I was conceived. They married young. I was born when he was nineteen."

Military life had a huge impact on Watt. For one thing, the family--soon to add two daughters--moved around to such far-flung places as Schenectady, New York, and Blackfoot, Idaho. "My pop was an engine-room guy, but for nuclear engine rooms," he says. "This was a new program: nuclear energy to run boats. Not weapons--boats. The advantage of having a nuke-run boat is that you don't have to fuel 'em for years. They can run at forty, fifty knots for, like, eight years. He was on a nuclear cruiser and he was on the Enterprise, which was an aircraft carrier. He also worked at plants. A lot of this nuke stuff they hid deep in the country, in case something went wrong. So I lived in some weird places." Watt's dad rose to the rank of chief (the army equivalent of a sergeant), and they lived mostly in navy housing. "Navy housing is like tract homes," he explains. "All the houses look the same. Everybody's pop was the same rank. There's a lot of negative to the military--like, most of it. But one good thing was I lived with all kinds of people, as far as ethnic background or whatever. Because the navy was integrated. That was kind of neat. And with everybody's pop being chiefs, you could see that no one was above or below anyone else. You know how neighborhoods get all caught up in different things? Well, in the military you're not like that. You're all together. So I will say that was one positive thing that came out of it."

By 1967, with the Vietnam war on, Watt's dad needed to be near the Pacific. The family moved to San Pedro, California. "With military life, you get the orders and you've just got to move," Watt says. "That was very hard on my mother. She'd have to start all over, take the kids out of school. By the time we got to Pedro I was almost ten, and my mother said, 'No more. I want to stay still.' Of course my pop got other orders, but my mom said, 'No. I ain't gonna move anymore.' So that's how I ended up staying in Pedro. They divorced when I was twelve. But before that I didn't see him a lot, either. So it wasn't like a big change at twelve, because my sisters and I had already been used to it."

The family moved from navy housing in a project called Park Western, and it was there that Watt became friends with future Minutemen bandmate Dennes Boon. In the 2004 documentary We Jam Econo: The Story of the Minutemen, Watt explains how they met: "He was playing army, and he fell out of a tree on me." The two bonded listening to music in their respective pads, and pretty soon they were playing it, too. "I'm not really a musician," Watt says. "I tried music in the seventh grade and they kicked me out after ten weeks. The teacher said I tried hard but I just didn't have it. I never tried that academic thing again. I just did it to be with D. Boon."

D.'s mom suggested that Watt switch from guitar to bass. "I didn't know what the bass was," Watt says. "In arenas you couldn't really hear it. But we saw on album covers that every band had a bass player, except the Doors and the Seeds. So we knew it was a big part of the band. In the pictures it looked like a guitar that had four strings. I didn't know they were bigger. I didn't know it was lower." He was equally naive about songwriting. "We never thought about lyrics much as kids," he says. "Most lyrics sounded like lead guitar or something. We weren't thinking about the meaning of the words. My whole teen years, I wrote one song. It was called 'Mr. Bass King of Outer Space.' Stupid song. It was about playing the bass so low[long? tk] that it was blowing everybody off the stage."

Punk, arriving first in the form of records by the Ramones and Television, and soon after through gigs by L.A. bands the Dils and the Germs, completely changed Watt and Boon's outlook. Lyrics suddenly seemed more crucial: "People were trying to tell you something about themselves," Watt says. And the fancy musicianship of '70s arena rock bands went out the window, too. "Before punk, bass was kind of where you put your retarded friend," Watt theorizes. "Left field. It was a real inferiority complex dumped on me because of the bass guitar. But with punk, you had everyone lame, so all of a sudden the bass player was elevated and everybody was brought down. It was a lot more equal, and the bass drove the songs more. They were all learning, they were all beginning." With high school friend George Hurley on drums, Watt and Boon formed the Reactionaries at the end of 1978, then refitted themselves as the Minutemen a year later. "The 'minute' meant more like minute," Watt explains. "Like we were small compared to a big arena rock band. And the other reason for the name--I had a bunch of names on a paper, and D. Boon picked that one. He liked it because there was some right-wing group who used the name. We thought, we'll call ourselves the same thing--there goes their power! It'll dilute it and confuse things."

Even the Minutemen's songs were little. "We got the idea from this band from England called Wire. They had this album Pink Flag. The basic idea was to make the gig like it was one big song with all these little parts. They weren't supposed to be individual songs so much as little tributaries of a big river. We were doing these severe device type of things to find out what we were about, what was our sound. We didn't want to be just like Creedence or Blue Oyster Cult--we wanted to find out what Minutemen were. We would put the limitations on ourselves in order to bring a focus, to try to get some kind of originality. You could make up any rules you wanted to. That was something we gained from the movement. Like with the Pop Group, where they took Captain Beefheart and mixed it with P-Funk. You know, why not? Why not do anything you want? I mean, that sounds naive now, but in those days, from listening to arena rock and records that were more conventional, we thought there were formulas you had to abide by. And the punk movement exploded all that for us."

The Minutemen released five albums, but ended prematurely in late 1985, when D. Boon was killed in a car crash. Watt has dedicated most of his career since that point to Boon's memory. In 1986 songwriter Ed Crawford looked up Watt's number in the phone book, and traveled from his home state of Ohio to San Pedro to convince him to make music again. With Hurley again on drums, they formed fIREHOSE and released the albums Ragin', Full-On (1986), If'n (1987), and Fromohio (1989) on SST. The band then signed to Columbia, releasing Flyin' the Flannel (1991) and the EP Mr. Machinery Operator (1993) before disbanding. Watt's first solo effort, Ball-Hog or Tugboat?, was meant as a kind of philosophic inquiry into the nature of bass playing, although that aspect of the album got lost underneath the avalanche of big-name guest stars. "The title Ball-Hog or Tugboat--I'm talking about the bass," he says. "What is it? Is it going to aid and abet, or is it going to bogart? What am I? The dumb bass player. So it was like this test. But hardly anyone got that. What's obvious to me isn't always obvious to other people."

For the past ten years, Watt has shied away from putting together a permanent band. He recorded his 1997 solo album, Contemplating the Engine Room--a reflection on both his father's life in the navy and his own experiences in the Minutemen--with a trio called the Black Gang, featuring Nels Cline on guitar and Stephen Hodges on drums. Drummer Jerry Trebotic and keyboardist Pete Mazich backed him on his album The Secondman's Middle Stand. On the side he performs in Stephen Perkins' punk/free jazz outfit Banyan; his longest-running band to date is the two-bass duo Dos, with former Black Flag bassist Kira Roessler. "After fIREHOSE, I kind of wanted to stop having bands," he says. "Like, with D. Boon, this was who I played with, so all the music ideas were sent through this paradigm of D. Boon, which for me was okay. But with Ed from Ohio, it seemed kind of unfair to him. Some stuff he liked. Some stuff he was like, 'What the fuck?' I couldn't blame him for that. That's kind of why I ended fIREHOSE. Now I don't really have a band. I put bands together around different projects. Maybe it's like, when you're younger it's easier to have roommates. I'm older. I'm not trying to say, 'Oh, there was this trapped voice and the band was stifling me.' I'm just trying to say that my life has changed a little bit, so the way I make music has changed, too."

And sometimes he prefers not to be in charge. Over the course of the past several years he's done stints as a sideman with Porno for Pyros, J. Mascis's the Fog, and most recently, with the reformed Stooges. "It's trippy, because I feel so tiny," he says. "This is the fucking Stooges. They're a source. They're not derivative of anything. I'd heard them when I was 16. If D. Boon had said, 'In thirty years you're going to be playing with them'--it's just very strange. On purpose I've put myself in a couple of sideman situations, because what I've learned is that you can't learn everything always being the boss. You miss out on a lot, always getting your way. If I'm going to ask people to follow direction, I should learn myself. Life's about playing different roles, anyway. Sometimes you've got to be the skipper, but then sometimes you've got to be deck hand."

Over the next several months, Watt plans on recording three new albums. He's finishing his fourth record with Dos, plus he's currently writing new material for a new guitar-bass-drums trio he's calling the Missingmen. "It's going to be little songs, like in the old days," he says. The Missingmen will tour with the new material in the spring of 2006, then record the album for release in the fall. "Then I've got another plan to go to Cleveland with a bunch of songs and just play 'em with whoever--like John Petkovic from Cobra Verde, and some other people. I liked the idea of Ball-Hog so I want to do it again, but not with such famous people."

I asked Watt toward the end of our conversation what he thought punk rock meant today. I told him that I bummed out when someone gave my five-year-old daughter a London Punk Bratz doll, and that I was disheartened by the huge number of bands who packaged punk for radio and MTV. But he cut through the noise and got at the hear of the matter, reminding me that punk rock is a process, not a product. "If it's some style, especially some shrink-wrapped thing hanging on a wall at Toys 'R' Us, then it won't live, it won't be dynamic," he said. "It becomes exactly what the marketing people want--a genre, something to make their job easier. But if it's something like, 'Everybody's telling me the wall's over there, but I'm going to push against it and see if it's really there'--to me, that's what punk is. An idealistic attitude." That's why I never tire of Watt. I don't have to be punk rock, as long as he is.
45 Grave
45 Grave
What is 45 GRAVE?

45 GRAVE, our favorite Heavy-Metal-Psychedelic-Post-Punk-What-the-Fuck-Ghoul-Rockers.

During 1979-1990 in Los Angeles, 45 GRAVE was born in the chaos of the
Punk movement and churned out their own brand of Ghoul Rock. In the beginning,
the original lineup consisted of Dinah Cancer-Vocals, Paul Cutler-guitar, Rob Graves-bass, and Don Bolles-drums.
The 45 GRAVE song "Partytime (Zombie Version)" made it onto the
movie sound track for "RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD". "Partytime"
made full rotation on MTV (1984) and the song,
"Evil", debut on MTV's The Cutting Edge in 1985. Appearing on
many a teenagers' wall or locker, Dinah was slated as
'The Queen of Punk and Deathrock' by many fan rags, and
became the ultimate horror punk pinup girl. Touring the U.S., they grew up
with and shared the stage with artists like The Ramones, The Misfits,
The Cramps, and Black Flag.

45 Grave are cited in several rock music biographies to being a huge influence
on many of the bands that surfaced from the
L.A. scene, including Motley Crue, Guns and Roses, L.A. Guns,
Faster Pussycat, Red Hot Chili Peppers, among others. Their hit song
"Partytime" is still licensed for tv and radio ads today.

The band's momentum took a hit in 1991, when bassist Rob Graves passed
away from an accidental overdose. The other members went
their separate ways, pursuing their own musical projects (Dinah with Penis Flytrap and Dinah Cancer
and The Graverobbers, Paul with Dream Syndicate, and Don with Celebrity Skin, respectively).

Now in 2005, with the blessing of surviving members, 45 GRAVE is back
as Dinah Cancer's 45 GRAVE. Dinah Cancer's 45 GRAVE is a collection
of Punk, Metal, and Death, the original songs of 45 GRAVE
with a new lineup. With songs like "Partytime", "Bad Love", "Evil",
"Concerned Citizen" and more, this will be the closest to 45 GRAVE tha
t fans will see in their lifetime. Giving the fans what they wanted -
one hour of the songs that they love and grew up with. According to
Dinah, "I'm building this to keep the spirit of 45 GRAVE alive, introduce
its magic to new fans, and as a personal commemorative of my best
memories being the driving force and front person of 45 GRAVE.
This is a part of my life that indeed changed me forever. Will it change yours?"

On the 25th anniversary of 45 GRAVE...Hell Is Coming To Your House!
Audacity
Audacity
Audacity are a very rare band, and Mellow Cruisers is a second album that shows a band growing up whilst still retaining the things that made people fall in love with them in the first place. The angst-y vocals/lyrics, speedy guitar and drums, and melody-controlling bass are all the winning elements that Audacity pulls off, even in their young progression. Even if punk rock dies again (which would account for the umpteenth time anyways, right?), one thing that is for sure, is that Audacity are great musicians and have a serious knack for melody that stands above any dying genre. Through the friendship they've had with Burger Records, King Tuff, and tour-mates Natural Child, Audacity have developed through observation, an even more enamored-compass towards melody, and Mellow Cruisers perfectly showcases that. Mellow Cruisers is a successful power-punk record, that's well-produced, well-written, and undeniably catchy and fun. - Heave Media
White Flag
White Flag
White Flag, Southern California's primordial hardcore pop punk rock and rulers since 1982, will be appearing in Chicago for the first time in their 28 year history, supporting Tesco Vee's Hate Police, July 17, 2010 at the Abbey.

The band is joining Mr. Vee's traveling book release showcase, celebrating the Touch and Go book

White Flag will also be celebrating the release of their first new vinyl album in 10 years, "Benefit For Cats".

The White Flag lp features White Flag founding members Pat Fear. Trace Element, Jello B. Afro, and the return the band's original legendary vocalist/nudist, Al Bum. Adding to the mayhem mayhem is guitarist Mike Mess, (also know as Mike Geek when strumming the axe for SIN 34), who first joined White Flag's revolving circus of members in 1984, making his debut recorded output with the band.

Al Bum, who left the band after the 1985 US tour due to a severe surfing injury incurred in Fiji, describes his return to the recoded medium after a 25 year, uninhibited by his physical challenges. Says Al: "If Robert Plant could record "Achilles' Last Stand" while in a wheelchair (Plant was in a debilitating car accident prior to recording the vocals for the album "Presence"), I can scream like Darby Crash's bastard son. I used to be a rocker, now I'm a roller, so get out of my way".

Known for their sense of humor as well their musical collaborartions, the new lp features a guest appearance by Adolescents vocalist Tony Cadena. White Flag have also released several singles with Tesco Vee manhandling the lead vocals.
Unfortunately, due to his condition, Al may not appearing at the Chicago show, and has actually only performed live with the band once since his marine mishap, at the memorial show for former Runaways drummer Sandy West in 2006. Pat Fear, Jello B. Afro and Mike Mess have been handling lead vocals in Al's stead "for decades now", and the band still performs all the early Al Bum hardcore classics like "Shattered Badge" and "Ticket To Moscow".

White Flag was featured on the classic cassette compilation "CODE BLUE", alongside bands such as Rights of The Accused and Articles of Faith, issued in 1984 by Chicago's infamous Last Rites fanzine. As a nod to that early Chicago output, the band will be performing all their tracks from that release at the Abbey show. White Flag also appear in the Touch and Go book, as interviewed by Mr. Vee himself in 1984.
The Abigails
The Abigails
**Play LolipaloozaPre-party on 6/27** There are hobbies, and then there are lifestyles. The former tends to come with the non-committal ambiguity of something to merely pass the time, to fool the world that something is giving you an identity - while the latter takes the urgency of emergency, of pre-destined presence that is already encoded in one’s own DNA.

For Warren Thomas - undisputed harbinger of debauched Zen and man behind Southern California’s elegantly-wasted country act The Abigails - it would be an emergency if it didn’t come so damn easy; as there are certain people that just can’t be anything else besides legends in real-time. “It just kinda comes naturally to me,” he told L.A. Record. “You know what they say: ‘Country music is just the white man’s blues,’ and Satan’s always lurkin’ in the shadows and I’ve been around the block a few times now. So I’d say it all kinda makes sense.”

After cutting his jagged-teeth for ten years leading the Doors-esque GRAND ELEGANCE and a brief stint on percussion with kindred spirits THE GROWLERS, Warren picked up a guitar in summer of 2011 and learned all five-chords for the first time – and wasted no time to record a full album perfectly crafted, mean-spirited yet somehow vulnerable classics that surprised everyone except his inner circle who knew this day was inevitable. “Songs Of Love And Despair” was co-released by Burger and Mono Records in 2012 and sold out quickly – proving that the Abigails brand of LEE HAZLEWOOD/GUN CLUB/COUNTRY TEASERS-inspired cruelty was filling a void that was screaming to be sewed up.

By the time the tireless gigging in support of the debut was in full swing, Warren already had his next round of tarnished golden-bullets in the chamber. “Tundra” is almost savant in its creaky perfection – an album slightly heavier on the ballad side that makes it easier to soak up all the bottlenecking wisdom throughout. Never has impending doom felt so comforting – Warren was gifted the distinction of effortless, story-telling baritone (once thought only reserved for icons like LEONARD COHEN and NICK CAVE) that oozes out speakers and consumes a room as he spins tales of his misadventures with minor glimmers of accidental redemption on songs like “29” and “The Calm Before The Storm”, while “The One That Let Me Go” ventures into ROGER MILLER territory where its hinge on zaniness swings in defiance. The Abigails take on Leon Payne’s “It’s Nothing To Me” and make it their own as it begins with a chilling, non-fiction answering machine message from Warren calling his engineer from a jail in Boise before crashing into a haunting twang-tangled fuck-all, confirming all of Warren’s confident threats that this may be his masterpiece. Until the next one…
The Garden
Fletcher Shears (drums) and Wyatt Shears (vocals/bass). The band crafts songs that are extremely simple, but despite their simplicity are astonishingly avant garde and evocative of a certain dread. The majority of the 12 songs is just bass and drums playing off each other in short snippets, evoking a cave-like distance and darkness, running up and down scales while pushing out early proto-punk an
d new wave riffs.

While just bass and drums have been done before, they've never been done in such a spooky, abstract sense. The brothers base their sound in a echoed, stomping drum will the bass fiddles up and down the fret in a energetic, but thick throb, giving each of the songs the feeling that they were recorded in a cave…in winter…at night. Songs don''t have so much a start and an ending as they simply start and end. Further, although the album is less than eight minutes long, it quite clearly is an album. The 12 short pieces work off each other, cascading and getting darker and darker, digging deeper into their distanced, eerie wail.
-PunkNews.org
Agent Orange
Agent Orange
The Original OC Punk/Surf Power Trio
Named after the chemical defoliant so chillingly used by the USA in the Vietnam War, Agent Orange were one of a number of bands formed in the highly active "So-Cal" hardcore scene of Fullerton, Orange County, comprised Mike Palm (vocals, guitar), Steve "Soto" Rodgers (bass) and Scott Miller (drums). However, Rodgers left early in their development to form another local punk attraction, the Adolescents. His replacement was James Levesque.

The band's first important supporter was KROQ disc jockey Rodney Bingenheimer, who was fundamental to the promotion of many similar outfits. Their debut release, the Bloodstains EP, was the only one to feature Rodgers, and its title track was the first song the fledgling band wrote. Afterwards, they signed to prominent local label Posh Boy Records, run by Robbie Fields. The subsequent debut album showed the band rising above the usual three-chord bluster of hardcore with a melodic approach that recalled 60s surf instrumental bands (the Ventures being the most obvious influence). However, the band stormed out of the studio near to the album's completion, complaining about being "produced' and Fields' behaviour in general, leaving engineer David Hines and Jay Lansford (of Simpletones, Stepmothers and Channel 3 fame) to finish off the recordings. The Bitchin' Summer EP was one of the first skate/surf punk crossover items, with three energized surf guitar instrumentals establishing the band's future direction. Various problems delayed the next release until the trio signed with Enigma Records for 1984"s When You Least Expect It ... EP, which saw a conscious and largely unsuccessful attempt to accommodate a more disciplined, polished sound, a mistake compounded by a pointless cover version of Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody To Love'. However, all the elements came together for 1986"s This Is The Voice - the overdriven guitar mesh now allied to first-rate songwriting and delivery. This time the cover of "Dangerman" was fine, but subordinate to the Agent Orange originals. Levesque had been replaced by Brent Liles (ex-Social Distortion) the previous year.

Agent Orange remained largely quiet during the early part of the 90s save for a live album. Palm returned in 1996 with two new members and a studio album, Virtually Indestructible. Their 2000 release was a mixture of new recordings and re-recordings.
The Urinals
The Urinals
The URINALS formed in 1978 as a five-piece parody of punk rock, at UCLA's Dykstra Hall dormitory. The band consisted of Delia Frankel (vocals), Steve Willard (guitar), Kevin Barrett (toy drums), Kjehl Johansen (toy organ) and John Jones (later Talley-Jones, bass). Their sole performance as a five-piece was a four-song set (two originals and covers of the JAM's "This is the Modern World" and the Jetsons theme song) played at the dorm talent show, which was held in the building's cafeteria. The acclaim was immediate and, as a bonus, the jazz band which followed them was thoroughly outraged.

The usual "creative differences" surfaced early with Frankel and Willard's decision to depart. The remaining trio soldiered on, with Johansen picking up the guitar in place of the wheezing Emenee organ. None of the three could play their instruments, which was considered an advantage, as it forced the band to rely upon material of a tightly focused scope. Few of the early songs ventured beyond two chords.

Their debut as a trio came on Halloween eve 1978 during a dorm-wide party. Vitus Matare, keyboard-player for LA power-punk band THE LAST, stumbled upon the band and proposed to record them. Utilizing the infamous Dokorder 4-track and a microphone designed for underwater use, four songs were recorded for release on the band's DIY label, Happy Squid Records. The peculiar ambience of the record can be traced to the technological limitations of its recording, Kevin's clicky-sounding toy-drum kit, and the guitar & bass being played live through the same amplifier.

As the Masque bands began to make inroads into the Hollywood nightclub scene, the URINALS worked the UCLA circuit: Dykstra Hall and Kerckhoff Coffee House. The second release, "Another EP" was recorded in a film-scoring stage at the Motion Picture/Television department on campus. Although this was a three-track recording, the superior technology available yielded a more focused sound this time around.
Venue Information:
Echoplex
1822 W. Sunset Blvd
The Echoplex is located below The Echo, enter through the alley at 1154 Glendale Blvd
Los Angeles, CA, 90026