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Notes From the Underground

[whitespace] Damone Mention It:
One weekend show cut short; others raged on

NOTHING CAME OFF QUITE AS PLANNED on Saturday night. Off Ocean Street, party-goers paid a relatively exorbitant $4 fee to see the Damones and three opening bands--and presumably to drink from the keg in the back. Local newcomers Phoenix opened up, followed by swingin' fun-rock from the Coldcuts. Edaline, from Santa Rosa, was captivating, playing songs with escalating pitches that revealed some exploration of beauty, then broke into the more predictable "fast part." The Damones would have made a lovely contrast, like going to play air hockey after a slightly draining art flick, but it was not to be. An officer escorted guests off the property shortly after the band had set up.

I heard the US Bombs show in Felton the same night was a much bloodier fiasco, with territorial fights dominating the audience's attention.

On Sunday, however, Naked Aggression's show at the Felton Community Hall was a little too serene, with the kids barely daring to tap their feet. Four openers played short-but-impressive sets to leave time for NA. The Krupted Peasant Farmerz, an old San Jose outfit risen from the dead, did not disappoint, with finely layered pop melodies punctuated at regular intervals with lots of "whoa, whoa, whoa." The Ready Men from Eugene were also great, with the right kind of scruffy, Clash-y ska-punk that reeked of Operation Ivy in 1989. Who knows if the bands made enough dough to cover gas, but a good time was had by all.
Arwen Curry

The Burbs

PSSST. Suburbia is a mondo creative and perverse comic smorgasbord of local artists that you need to get your little paws on now.

Terrific pro-style artwork dominates this impressive 24-page debut. The seedy "Memories from Suburbia" appealed to the evil cherry Pop Tart side of me, whereas "Blurb" reminded me of crisply animated "Dazed & Confused."

This whole zine is filled with trailer-trash story lines that would make Jeff Foxworthy and John Waters blush. I guess there are actual artists in this town who don't hang out at Pergolesi and sport Bauhaus shirts with Porter College I.D. cards strapped around their necks.

The "I Love Hammers" collage is disturbing and effective. It's more eerie than Richard Simmons decked in his bedtime speedos after consuming a bottle of boxed wine. This piece is pretty brutal and seems out of place in terms of the light-hearted nature of everything else.

But by far, my favorite piece was Paul Van Horn's "The Slave" about a giant Sea Monkeyish sperm that bullies its owner into going on a killing spree. I can picture a sitcom of this strip wedged in between The Simpsons and King of the Hill on Fox and called something like When Sperm Attacks. Trust me--this is well worth the $2 alone. Send contributions to Suburbia, 1099 38th Ave #67, Santa Cruz, CA 95062.
Matt Koumaras

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From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of Metro Santa Cruz.

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