PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

Young Punks

 

In the next five-to-ten years, I expect the letters of the Roman alphabet to form their own association, with annual awards in a variety of categories (best letter in a supporting role, e.g.), and while the letter S will have huge popular support (so curvaceous!), I’ll be lurking in the background, lobbying hard on behalf of X.

There are so many reasons to love the letter X, beginning with its shape. I happen to like symmetrical letters, and one that has two firmly planted legs, two victoriously outstretched arms, and virtually no tummy flab strikes me as a letter that is very fit. Also, without X our language would be lacking in key words, such as “Sox” and “Pixies”.

X is such as great letter that an L.A. punk group used it as its band name. The heyday of “X” (the band) might have been in the 1980s, but I can assure you, from having seen them just four nights ago, that the band still exudes authentic punk nearly 40 years after it was formed, despite the wrinkles and increased BMI. Of course, it never hurts to be playing at a superb venue, which The Sinclair (in Cambridge, MA) certain is: intelligently designed, with the bar (mostly) separated from the music, no damnable posts to interfere with sight lines (take that, Paradise!), and excellent sound all around make this my favorite small venue in the Boston/Cambridge knot of human activity.

 

Punk Never Sleeps

 

It occurred to me, when I saw the show listed months back, that seeing aging punk rockers in a small venue that might not entirely sell out (unclear if it was) would be just too depressing (for aging fans, including me, and for the band itself), but after being steeped in all the great energy, excellent vocals and harmonies, and guitarist Jesse Dayton’s expert performance sitting in for Billy Zoom (get well soon!), I can assert that the experience was the very opposite of depressing. I walked out of the show thinking that this band isn’t so very old after all (and maybe neither am I).

Continue reading
  2903 Hits
Tags:

Please Pass The Riceboys

 

Among the very few things I remember from my first year of college was a flyer for the punk band Einstein’s Riceboys, which was posted on the campus of St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY, where I was badly botching my freshman year. (When I think about what a lost year that was, I wonder why it never occurred to me to take a year off after high school. Wait – that did occur to me! So why didn’t it occur to me to listen to myself?)

Einsteins Riceboys r              Not The Flyer I'm Trying To Find

Einstein’s Riceboys more likely came to the town of Clarkson, NY, some ten miles away, rather than to Canton, the bleak little dot on the frozen landscape where I was sentenced to a year of utter apathy.

The poster I recall was of the Riceboys’ headshots, cut and pasted (that is, cut crudely with scissors and physically pasted, not Photoshopped) onto the bodies of contortionists, then photocopied onto colored paper and stapled onto telephone poles around town. This was 1982 or 1983, when, if you had access to a computer, it was very likely introducing you to the concept of losing all your data.

 

What you see above is the cover of the band's first album, "Milk of Amnesia"; this is yet another example of Punk Rock's knack for producing more hilarious band names and album and song titles than any other genre of music.  I probably never actually saw the Riceboys, although from what I've read the singer was also the drummer, and I definitely did see, in the basement of one of St. Lawrence's many beer-steeped fraternity houses, a loud punk band whose blond haired drummer "sang" all the "songs."  (This is enough for me to claim that I might have actually seen the Wisconsonian punksters). 

I'd love to know where Einstein's Riceboys played that year to ascertain if it's even possible that I attended the show. You can find Milk of Amnesia and some good Riceboys imagery at a blog called "Cheap Rewards" (and yes, I did ask Mike, the blogger, if he has a copy of the flyer, but, alas, he doesn't).   I managed to download the whole second LP, Civil Rice, at the site mkepunk.com (with MKE being an abbreviation of the city of Milwaukee, I believe).

But what's more important to me than the music itself is finding that darned flyer. The time may come when I attempt to contact one of Einstein's famed Riceboys in order to see if any of those flyers withstood the test of time.   

Continue reading
  6327 Hits
Tags:

 

 

Daily Haiku

 

Cats oft’ void their guts.

They cough out fur balls. They puke.  

We tread carefully.  

 

College Tuition

We dig ourselves a deep hole

Need a second job.

 

Now that I’m sixty

People think I’m a wise man

Probably, I’m not

 

I’m in my Fifties

But tomorrow I’m Sixty

Will need a sports car

 

My PCP Says

“Keep doin’ what yer doin’”

Prob’ly I should not

 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day

We eat beef that has been corned

Whatever that means

 

Robots and A.I.

I will make use of these soon

To do my taxes

 

Strange Oscar night end

Pacino failed to mention

Best pic nominees

 

Who’s this Katie Britt?

Scary. Wierd. We could have used

A Trigger Warning

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

The Future Eclipse Yeast COVID-19 Halloween Joan Jett Communication Channels Art vacation Rabbit Hole baseball Theater acerbic high school principal College People I know Existential Crisis soapbox rantings Grass Skiing Email Canada Syracuse Audio Bands I've seen My sisters Stories I should write seasons Eating and Drinking Wind Christmas Snow Guns Imaginings Ice Dancing Soup Rock Bands Ketchup Martinis coronavirus Ukraine Car Dealerships afterlife Cornhole star Bob Dylan Elvis Presley Hache Verde weather My grandparents Higher Education Belgian Ales Accounting Skiing Sports Mom and Dad Hand Planes Beer Them Kids Tom Waits Folk Music Biden Weather Things I've done Boston COVID Golf My Estate Emergencies The Past Work Skating Soccer Soul Coughing Bikes My Parents Peacekeeping Bodysurfing Scotch and Sirloin high winds The future the sea winter The Old Days Coyotes Knots Trump Brain Surgery First World Problems Teeth Motorists Vaccines Hawaii Europe Hurricanes Godfather Cats US Senate Politics As Usual Big Shoes Mike Doughty Hot Air Balloon the future Butterfingers Bunker Bicycles War and Peace New England Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Cars Good Reads nukes gathering throngs Football Pats Fiction technology Real Estate Religion Sugarbush NFL Reveillon Dad advice Canadiana Ticketmaster Chowder Vaughn Music Short Fiction Diseases TV 1980s BB King midwinter vacations plan mid-winter vacations Smoke Meat Climate Change Advertising Quebect Mass General Hospital Bill Monroe Marketing Gimmicks Food Soviet Union Putin Liz Phair Barber Shops Drumming Royal Stuff Spoon the band Reese's Peanut Butter Cups NPR Audubon Bar Zoom Bands I haven't seen curling shoes China Plastic Red Sox Stairs Earth Spice Girls Masks Candy When I die Brewing Texting Allergies Me Head injuries town square punk music Radiohead Mustard tambourrine Roommates I've Had Guns and Ammo cornhole Bands I've Seen