Thursday, July 31, 2014


Last week I finally saw one of my all-time favorite bands, Man Or Astroman?

Yeah, this is gonna be weird because their name does include a question mark, so trust me when I say I'm not supposed to sound confused every other sentence?


Ah, Man or Astroman? Where do I even begin? The furthest memory I can drudge up is sitting in my brother's room back in Illinois, staring at this marvelous, colorful album cover. CD's were pretty cool back then, way more advanced than the current, dinky cassette tape, so I guess there was a lot of charm in this album art being so huge. Well, my older sister had a bunch of shitty new-wave records at the time, so, uh, those don't count because those suck.

I liked everything about it. Robots either mining for gold, building a base to destroy Earth or simply working out, who knew? All that mattered was what lie beyond the front page and into the meat of the matter...the music.

Oh, and really, the name "Man or Astroman?" is just so inherently weird and cool you couldn't fuck this one up if you tried.

The music is great duh

Surf-rock with an outer space flair. Throw in a bunch of sci-fi movie samples and you've got a pretty good idea but you don't because there's so much more to Man Or Astroman?

They're better than all other surf bands. They've exceeded by somehow turning a pretty laid back, goofy genre into really kick-ass shit. Not trying to hate on the classics, jus' sayin' is all. Jus' sayin', bro.

I'm gushing, aren't I?

"Destroy all Astromen," specifically, is my favorite album. Actually, I like a few other albums more but this one was my first taste -- it's hard to forget the soft caress of your first lover's touch. This is the album that would hook me for, oh, twenty years, and would help me form my own playing style as a guitarist. I owe a lot to these stinkin' goofs.

They stopped playing years ago, so I pretty much threw in the towel when it came to ever seeing them live. I've accepted my forever bummed-out-ness. Once Youtube rolled on in, I finally had access to see what they even looked like. It only pissed me off more. And fascinated me. So many grainy clips from so many grainy shows. Who were these guys? The mystery remains and shall always remain I've missed my chance fuck!

So imagine my surprise when I found out that Man or Astroman? was once again playing shows and was coming to Phoenix, AZ, my back-fucking-yard. The joy! The excitement! I said to imagine my surprise, did you imagine it? There's a lot of it!

Everything was perfect and in harmony at the show. The Crescent Ballroom is quite posh for a venue, and since their house beer is "Luchador Lager" I've committed to the idea that I will one day move in and live under the stage. Plus, most of Man Or Astroman's? fans are so specifically Man Or Astroman? fans, so it was just a bunch of nerds in glasses and old dudes. It was pleasant.

I'll spare you the details (code: I'm lazy) but the show was killer. Sadly, a few original members have been replaced for the night's festivities (where the fuck were you, Coco?!) but all was negated once the guitars were humming and the drums were pounding. I dunno, man, it was pretty kewl.

Speaking of the drums, Birdstuff, who was very nice in hearing our excited claims of eternal fandom, was unstoppable. He played quick, fast and sparse. Small drum-kit but BIG sounds, it was incredible. He even broke a tom and instead of just, ya know, not using it, he took it off his kit and wore it over his head. Are you not entertained?

And then the show ended and he did this really crazy thing and stuff. 


It's art! From outer space! They called it a night by stacking every instrument into a pile of throbbing, bizarre noise. I can only imagine the clean up, which makes it all the more impressive.

100% satisfied. Thanks, MOAM?

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Ghoulies in my bathroom.

I love a great bathroom. With all the years I've spent traveling, I've come to appreciate a good toilet with a secure door that doesn't leave the participant in a world of fear. I hate what I've become, but I've learned to embrace my new outlook on life. In fact, I have a list of requirements:

I like it when there's toilet paper, of course. I like knowing there's soap available. It offers a glimmer of hope and makes the process a little less stressful. It's as if the crime as a whole can get however crazy it wants, as long as there's that light at the end of the tunnel. Oh, I also prefer paper towels over the blow-dry fan things (can double as second tier toilet paper paper when the occasion arises) and the more stalls the better. In fact, the bigger the better the bathroom the more vast and anonymous it can become. I like anonymity. AND IF THERE'S ON THING I hate the most it's when someone is right outside the door and are really, really impatient.

I don't know how to swing this back around to what I'm trying to say but um just get a "Ghoulies" movie poster and put it above your toilet i like bathrooms

"Ghoulies," for those unaware, is a 1980's horror film about a gang of troll-demon-turds that are summoned by the wicked ways of black magic. Some guy is in a house with his wife or something, and he goes into the basement, maybe reads a book and hey yeah there ya go. I can't remember how or why any of this took place, but I think it was because...why not? Wouldn't you read creepy, Latin passages from a dusty old book?

It's an awesome Halloween flick. You can't go wrong with this and it's many sequels. It's dumb fun and entirely enjoyable because of this. There's a whole lot of silliness and little monster dudes running around, which is entirely up to the viewer whether that's good or bad (of course it's good) but I can assure you that we, as a whole, HATE that the ghoulie featured in the movie poster is not in the film.

Not even a toilet is shown! We demand a ghoulie wearing red suspenders! We want it all and we want it now!

It doesn't really matter. Even if the movie is jumbled and confusing and red-suspender-ghoulie-less, this is THEE best decoration one can use to spice up that boring room you poop in, guaranteed.

This fits my mood. It fits the aesthetic. I am one with The Toilet and now I can show my appreciation by framing and hanging a picture of a little, green turd-monster jumping out of the can.

It excites! It invokes! It tickles! I stare deep into his eyes and he looks right on back.

Now my bathroom rules. In fact, I might invite friends over just to show them where I keep my toothbrush and zit cream and HEY LOOK AT THAT A GHOULIES POSTER DONT YOU THINK ITS COOL GUYS?!?!

Yeah, my bathroom rules.