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Disembodied - Existence in Suicide.

Do not hesitate to contact me if a link is down.

I take them down sometimes. In an effort to cut down on clutter.

Feel free to leave a comment. Or email me at hedancesfornickels@gmail.com.

They Were Always There

From the first time I saw them. To the last time I saw them.

There have been a lot of changes.

Some good. Some bad.

All of them. A part of me. A part of who I am.

For a while. A long while. Steps back.

Then. Eventually. Moving forward.

Growing as a person.

108 - Creation. Sustenance. Destruction. Go buy it!

The Land Across the River

New Jersey was the epicenter of hardcore.

At least it seemed so. Sometimes.

New Brunswick. In particular.

It felt like everything I was listening to. Everything that was coming out. New Brunswick.

Really. Only a handful of bands.

Everything is magnified when you're sixteen.

There were bands I thought were from New Jersey. They weren't.

New Jersey was my mental default. If a band was on New Age Records.

This was true. Only some of the time.

Regional bias. My whole world was Bucks County.

(To a certain extent.)

Fifteen minutes from New Jersey. From Trenton.

The bands I saw. The bands I knew. The 'zines I read.

It wasn't everything. Not the sum of hardcore. Not even close.

The early days. Naive. Clueless.

Over time. On your own. With friends. You learn.

1.6 Band - Broke Up. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

Contact

Do not hesitate to contact me if a link is down.

I take them down every so often to cut down on clutter.

You can leave a comment. Or email me at hedancesfornickels@gmail.com.

I Don't Like the Term "Post-Hardcore," but for Lack of a Better One I Will Use It

A road to hardcore. Via post-hardcore.

Quicksand. Fugazi. Embrace.

These bands. Opened doors. Increased interest. In prior bands. Related bands. Other bands.

As mentioned on here before. I had been listening to hardcore. To me. To my friends. It was all punk rock. Minor Threat. Agnostic Front. 7 Seconds.

Everything was punk rock. Everything that wasn't "heavy metal." "Rap." "Pop." "New wave."

It was post-hardcore. That really lead me to hardcore. Hardcore as a genre. Then to straight edge. Ultimately veganism/vegetarianism.

And back again.

Post-hardcore. A contributing influence. In opening my eyes to other things. Other influences. Other genres. Other scenes. Away from hardcore.

One Last Wish - 1986. Princeton Record Exchange. Bargain punk.

What Did Blur Do Right, They Do Wrong?

People never talk about them.

Or even listen to them.

Compared to other bands.

Of the era.

It makes me wonder.

What have I missed?

The Lightning Seeds - Sense. eBay. Used.

It Was Either Sweat or Get Drunk

Heather picked me up. She didn't want to go alone.

The show was hot. So I made my way across the street.

I don't remember the name of the bar. I don't think I ever learned it. Nothing to remember.

The sign outside. Advertising Hurricane forties.

I sat down. Inquired if I could sit at the bar with a forty. Take out only.

A twelve ounce bottle of Colt 45 would have to do. With a shot of tequila.

The bartender was friendly. The ambiance. Not what I was used to. Framed photographs of Martin Luther King. Junior. Of Malcolm X.

The jukebox. Motown. Soul. I put my money in.

I spent a couple of hours in there. People from the show. Coming in and out. Heather would check on me. Occasionally. I was fine.

Colt 45. Tequila. Repeat.

Two minutes of Franklin.

Franklin - Building in A and E. AKA Music. Used.

It Looks Like it Wasn't the Christmas Album After All

Vince Guaraldi - Greatest Hits. Cathy's compact discs.

Their Image Fascinating, but I Never Got around to Buying Anything by Glay

It had been a while since the last Japanese purchase.

A few years. At least.

I had been spending a lot of money on Japanese pop and rock. It probably started with Pizzicato Five. Maybe Towa Tei.

Doors Merzbow and The Boredoms never opened.

Cornelius. Buffalo Daughter. Kahimi Karie. Takako Minekawa. Puffy. Fantastic Plastic Machine. These discs did not always come cheap.

Each related to the other. Leading me to the other.

Eventually. My searching. My buying. My listening. Moved beyond Japan. To the periphery. It came to encompass Momus, Laila France and Toog.

The web was my resource. Reading fan sites to the best of my ability. Making lists of Japanese music. Acts. Bands. Searching eBay. Amazon. Spending thirty dollars. Forty dollars.

Cost meant nothing. Even at a time in my life. When it most certainly should have.

My interest in Japan moved beyond music.

Into culture. Fashion. Art.

A Bathing Ape was on my radar. Because of Cornelius.

I tried to force an interest in anime. In manga. It didn't take. It still hasn't.

Eventually. Obsessions. Interests. Become less so. They are swallowed up into the day to day. The narrative that is me. My interests. My quirks. Something new I can talk about.

Each time my interests expand beyond my comfort countries. The U.S. The U.K. Sweden. Even if it's only something as trivial as music. I benefit.

LOVE PSYCHEDELICO - This Is Love Psychedelico. AKA Music. New.

No Limit Almost Ruined The South for Me

"Drop it like it's hot, drop drop it like it's hot."

Chris and I. Working at Abercrombie and Fitch. Fascinated by this kid. Listening to. Back That Ass Up.

Fascinated. Having a laugh.

"What is he? Fourteen?"

Imagine my surprise. Years later. Alex lending me Tha Carter II. Explaining.

He still rapped. Rapped well. One of the best.

I am never in the thick of rap music. Always the peripheral. Especially where The South is concerned.

Current acts. Releases. Mixtapes. I hear what I can. Buy what I like.

Lil Wayne eluded me. Since our laughter in the stockroom. Not that I was looking.

Here he was. Releasing something every week. Feels like that sometimes.

I went back to the beginning. Starting over. Making up for lost time. Disinterest. My ignorance.

Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III. Target. New.