Tag Archives: Revolting Cocks

04/02/2020 · 4:20 pm

The Crisis Fetishist

Hey kids… you want a soundtrack
That’s gonna make you feel tense?
Let you express your frustration?
Make ya scared, wanna run out and buy a gun?

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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1993, 2020, 9-11-01, despair, global pandemic, laughter, mainstream media, NYC, politics, Revolting Cocks, social media, Timothy Leary, Wuhan virus

06/12/2018 · 3:33 pm

I do not like Porno For Pyros. At all. I know some people are sensitive about them. I know they only have one album (I think; I’m not gonna go look). I just don’t like them. I also can’t remember why I bothered to split my face between the two center panels, or what the change in shirt was supposed to indicate. Maybe I was mad for a really long time. It’s not like that’s a rare occurrence.

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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care

Tagged as 1000 Homo DJs, 1990s, 1993, 1994, Art Alexakis, Bands I Useta Like, Belly, comic, depression, Everclear, Jeff Ward, Lard, Low Pop Suicide, Ministry, music, NEU!, political correctness, R. Kelly, Revolting Cocks, Santa Monica, sellouts, Skafish, strips, suicide, TLC

02/20/2018 · 8:18 pm

Bands I Useta Like: The Unofficial Soundtrack, Vol. I & II

Imagine if you will, a world parallel to our own, identical in many ways, disparate in others. Long story short, in this mirror universe, Bands I Useta Like was optioned by a major independent film studio, and made into a hit movie. It combined animation and live action, and because the producers had deep pockets, licensing songs for a decent soundtrack wasn’t a problem.

Whether I allowed the film to be produced at all was contingent upon the quality of the music choices. If they balked at a crucial song, or refused to include it, I would walk off the project. Which I did, and they replaced me on-screen with a real actor. Like I said, the movie was a hit.

The 2-disc soundtrack sold out of stores overnight. Even though it came packed in that shitty double jewel-box, which just winds up broken, on the floor of a car.

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