Well as we all know, the basketball lock out is still happening, though the players union and the owners are negotiating away, attempting to salvage the 2011-2012 season. I was looking forward to see how the New York Knicks were going to do this season, but it is conceivable that once the Superbowl ends in February, Hockey will be the only game in town. Currently it is the only game for most days of the week, which does not bother me in the least. Watching is not as much fun as playing, not by a long shot, but I am perplexed why the sport isn't more popular in most of the US. It's exciting, fast moving, and pretty violent at times. What's an American not to like? I guess since its the national sport of Canada we can't seem embrace this pastime. Same reason bullfighting isn't going to replace the NBA anytime soon for us. But we simply can't compete--when Canadian children are born, they are fitted for skates as the umbilical cord is cut--it's an arms race we can't compete with. But if you watched Fareed Zakaria's GPS you probably know this already.
So, what better theme music is there for the battle for Lord Stanley's Cup than Johnny Hanson Presents Puck Rock Vol. 2!! Released back in 1999 on Joe Keithley's Sudden Death Records, a label that has done a great service in making a lot of essential Canadian punk rock readily available. I have already discussed Volume 1 in an earlier post, and like its predecessor, Volume 2 is a bit of a mixed bag, but still with a lot to recommend it. If the best of both volumes was on a single disc it would be a recording of ice melting awesomeness. But the best things here make it a worthwhile consumer for your favorite hockey punk. The album starts out pretty strong, then peters out with too much samey sounding aggro/hard core.
First of all the disc begins and closes with Hanson brothers. Some people would want to take their kids to see Smurfs on ice, but the Hansons are basically the Ramones on ice. Though I enjoy my hilarious Connecticut beer hockey compatriots The Zambonis, the Punk Hansons are the Kings in my opinion. Marvel at the their take on the D.O.A punk classic The Enemy, turning the tune into an all time great hockey song. They fittingly end the compilation with Ring Dem Bells, a Hanson original. "The sticks are up and the gloves are down, Grab your partner round and round". I think they have 3 studio discs and a live for all you completists out there.
The other hands down classic is D.O.A.'s turbocharged tribute to old-time hockey, Beat 'Em Bust 'Em.
Headbutting, eyegouging, Impaling, decapitating A broken arm and skull, fracture, conquest & defeat, A 5 minute major and a suspension, a new team and a hospital sheet.
Joe Keithley......he's like a Canadian Dylan Thomas. More hockey songs, please! It doesn't get better than this folks. One of the best sports songs ever.
The Swedish band The Bones make a nice punk pop contribution with Some Kinda Freaks. Euro-contenders. You High Sticked My Heart by the Dinks is also pretty good. As far as the harder edged songs go, The Red Wings tune The Commies, and Penalty Box by The Commies are decent, short and not so sweet. Royal Grand Prix's CCM is more overdriven punky pop.
Jon Ginoli's Pansy Division (see my post on his earlier band, The Outnumbered) make an appearance with their funny song about mullets, Ice Hockey Hair. I like the hard riff rocking 60's sound of JP5, where they declare their love of Gino Odjick. Sillier novelty songs like Hockey Night in Toronto by King Hokum & the King Bees, and The Stool Pigeons' DollyPartonesque Ballad of Cookie LaRue, are also pretty entertaining.
Probably the only other hockey classic is Blood on the Ice by The Riverdales, a side project of Screeching Weasel. More Ramones inspired puck rock glory.
Blood on the Ice There's a puck flying at your head Slammed into the boards and you hit the deck
Get up and try to fight but you're going down tonight It's time to drop the gloves Blood on the ice.
So, it's almost winter, so do yourself a favor; drop the gloves already and pick up some Puck Rock today, pencil neck.
Kind of a sad rough ending to the holiday season. I have to admit I stopped paying attention when my NY Rangers were unceremoniously eliminated in the first round. Hopefully they will stick with the youth movement and not start trading for old washed up superstars like they normally do when they start getting good. I think a lot of Americans were surprised about all the rioting that occurred in Vancouver after the disappointing result by the hometown Canucks--I know when I talk about hockey to a typical American, their eyes start to glaze over in about 15 seconds. But as most fans know, if you finish with the best record in the NHL in the regular season, you probably will be eliminated in the first round. Hockey is an unpredictable game--the puck takes funny bounces during a long rough physical playoff series.
But now that it's over, we can relax, regain our composure, and start preparing for next season. And what better way to deal with the long summer off from professional hockey than to listen to some good old American-style Puck rock.
The Fans all go insane....
And the Number 1 Hockey band south of the 49th parallel is of course Connecticut's own Zambonis, a clever bunch of hockey obsessed guys with musical chops and a great sense of humor. While I moan about the Rangers not advancing in this years playoffs, these guys have still not recovered from the loss of their Hartford Whalers (they are now the Carolina Hurricanes). And as far as I'm concerned, when it comes to music and sports, hockey is the best medium by far. Sure, you have your proponents of badminton, curling, and chess punk. You even have the legendary Madras golf punks, The Divots, from North of Beantown. Some people like wrestling and rock (kudos to The Cramps take on "The Crusher") or those rap songs put out by 300 pound pro football players right before the Super Bowl. Give me my hockey rock any day.
The Zambonis are Dave Schneider, Pete Katis, Jon Aley, Tarquin Katis.
A perfect introduction to the group is the 7 song Ep, Play-Off Fever!, which showcases the bands abilities to play in a variety of styles. The first song is the excellent Avalanche!, a hi-energy tribute to the ex-Quebec Nordiques, the upstart team that would soon hold Lord Stanley's Cup! They quickly segue into the Band-like country of Great Zamboni of Devotion. A love song!--could anything be more romantic than comparing your girl to a Zamboni? Or the mustard on your knish? Then its off to the world of the moshpit, with the hardcore tune Lost My Teeth.
But the boys save the best for the latter part of the disc, first of all with their plea for hockey safety, C.C.M. P.S.A. (The Helmet Song).
Hey, Craig McTavish You've got a lot of hair on your head, But if you lose your balance, You just might end up dead.
But if you wear a helmet You'll be fine And if you wear a helmet It'll be alright.
As you can see, this band has filled a basic gap. As is often brought up in the academic world, hockey is one of the few topics William Shakespeare didn't live long enough to adequately cover. After the novelty instrumental/ dance number, Here Comes The Zamboni!, they really come up big with Hockey Holidays, which ought to be played in heavy rotation throughout Canada in December. A lesson maybe some of those crazed Canucks fans could take to heart.
All I want for Christmas Are some brand new shoulder pads To protect me from the enemy when he cross checks me really badly....
So lets remember its December before we drop the gloves Even goons like yourself Deep down... need to be loved. So lower your high stick, and remember jolly old St Nick
Hey you big idiot!! Happy Holidays Hockey Holidays...
And like any self respecting hockey tribute group, they end with the mighty Hockey Song by Canadian troubadour, Stompin' Tom Connors. They begin the song with a country twang, but with each chorus, the music gets faster, louder and more frenetic. Maybe not the equal of The Hanson Brothers Ramones avatar take on the tune, but nonetheless, well played, well played.
If you are a music loving hockey fan, you will fall over when you hear their music. Just don't get too excited and start rioting. Their official website has all kinds of crap on it, t-shirts, discs, even a Zambonis' cowbell. In addition to the Ep, they have put out two worthy full length albums, 100% hockey and other stuff, and More Songs about Hockey... and buildings and food. So check these guys out--get out of the alley and back out onto the ice.
This post goes out to my friend, the King of All Goons, the only man Tony Twist ever called "Sir".
Yeah, I like hockey. If not for financial reasons, I'd still be playing in a glorified beer league. But, hey, it's my beer-addled glory, dammit. I've been hit in the head enough times not to know when to quit. I've had some great times playing in tournaments in Canada--we only had problems when we had to face real Canadians. It's like trying to beat a fish in a swimming contest. Since the playoffs have started (my Rangers just lost a hard fought battle against the Caps in OT.) I thought it would be appropriate to do a posting on my favorite hockey punk album. Yes the mighty mighty Hanson Brothers.
My other band is sniffin' glue
Everybody likes a good homage.
The Hansons are a spin-off of No Means No, a Vancouver Punk institution if there ever was one. It was an opportunity to indulge themselves in a three chord orgy of loud fast punk pop. If they had a Smurfs on Ice, why not a Ramones on Ice? I think in my dotage I would like to just form a side band and skip the real band altogether. The Hansons have few albums out, but this one is my favorite, as it is more hockey centric than their first album. Connecticut's Zambonis are a cool band and are wittier, but these guys have a visceral edge on the other Puck rockers.
So much to applaud on this album--for those Americans who love hockey, you know how normal people get when you start talking about the sport--they get that scared look in their eyes and start looking around for a fire exit, or an open window. Listen to their wonderful rendition of Stompin' Tom Connors The Hockey Song that is the start of this punk rock juggernaut. You'll never look back.
Next up is Stick Boy, about a bench warmer who's itching to show the world what he can do. Another fine fine tune is a tribute to hockey mania, namely Rink Rat. Other Hockeyesque numbers are Danielle (She Don't Care About Hockey) (you might even know a woman or two who are in the same boat) and Third Man In.
Of course, you are saying, that's all well and good, but this album needs more hockey tunes. I didn't mention the mainly instrumental album ending stomp Sudden Death. But I waited till the end to mention the hockey grail, the Stairway To Heaven of all hockey songs. That's right folks. He Looked A Lot Like Tiger Williams.
It's all you need to know. If you love hockey and Ramones like you love chocolate mixed with peanut butter, you need this in your arsenal, especially at times like this, when your obviously crazy girlfriend is trying to get you to shave your playoff beard. I often cry when I listen to this inspiring song.
If there is a God above,
I know that he must be
The kind of guy who's tough enough
To deal with punks like me
He won't take no excuses
He'll be tough but he'll be fair
And when I go to my reward
I hope to see him there
I'll bet he looks like Tiger Williams
He'll be brave and strong and true
But if you try to cross him
He will put a hurt on you.
I bet if you didn't know where this came from, you would assume it was an unfamiliar psalm.
Now get out there and clear the crease, ya pencil necks!!
This post is for my friend and #1 hockey hating homeboy
Yes, hockey season has begun my friends. Admittedly, south of the 49th parallel and west of the Czech Republic, it is not a pastime for everyone. I have lost track of the many times when in the middle of a hockey monologue, my innocent victims eyes begin to glaze over, or their facial muscles start twitching, as their eyes begin darting around the room looking for a stick to hit me over the head with.
Actually I am a hockey player, temporarily retired. Sort of. Technically speaking, I am a guy who plays beer league hockey, not a hockey player. I didn't have to get up at 5 am to get skating lessons when I was six and there is not a drop of Michigan blood in me, let alone Canadian. When I was young there weren't any rinks around and I didn't learn to skate until I was twelve. Yeah, I know, boo hoo. Anyway, I am no superstar and I'm not tough enough to be a good goon. But believe me, it is still an exciting and fun sport for masochists like me to play.
Punk Rock and Hockey seem to go together. The aggressiveness of the music parallels the physicality of the sport. It's best done with a tongue in cheek demeanor though. Today I review the compilation Johnny Hanson's Puck Rock Vol 1. There is also a Vol. 2 only --so far Puck Rock lacks in popularity so there is no Police Academyesque Puck Rock Vol 17. The record is a hit and miss proposition. Amid the brilliance there is a lot of samey sounding unclever hardcore. Basically half the songs are good here.
Hockey connoisseurs should know two important things. As far as Puck Rock goes, any recording by The Hanson Brothers or D.O.A./Joe Shithead bears the punk rock trademark of excellence. So of course their contributions to this album are peerless. The Hanson Brothers (not the boy band or the goons from Slapshot)
fittingly begin and end the record, as Johnny Hanson is curator of this project. The first song is Hockey Night Tonight (not The Hockey Song of Stompin' Tom), with punk velocity and lyrical poetry worthy of the Ice Capades. In essence they truly are The Ramones On Ice.
Put away the Snakes and Ladders
Love Connection doesn't matter
You're gonna exercise your bladders
It's Hockey Night Tonight
Don't want no instant replay
Don't care what the TV geeks say
They look like Ronny Dugay
It's Hockey Night Tonight
Its these little vignettes that allow us a Americans to get a peek at the real Canada, our friends to the North.
This song has certainly taught me more about Hockey and its Fans than any Bob Dylan song ever did. Even more than beer. Incidentally, The Hansons are from Vancouver, so the Ronny Dugay slap may be an East Coast-West Coast thing. I'm hoping he provides a rebuttal single someday. Though I must say that when I see Dugay as a Rangers analyst he looks a like a character from the movie Deuce Bigalow.
Equally great is Joe Shithead/Keithley and cub's hockified version of wrestler/philosopher Classy Freddie Blassie's version of Pencil Neck Geek. Keithley is a hockey fan who also happens to be the frontman for D.O.A. and is probably the Godfather of Canadian Punk Rock. On this track, Keithley takes issue with modern players in the Gretzky mode versus the traditional Gordie Howe player. An inspired idea carried out perfectly. D.O.A. contributes the brief but memorable Overtime. "I don't give a puck! away in Overtime."
Unfortunately there is a lot of thrown together hardcore with little cleverness. It just sounds the same and sometimes the songs just go on for too long. Lots of aggro with no wit. Jughead's Hockey Song is funny, a song about a Canadian Hockey fan and his bewildering encounter with a Frenchman, California surfer dude, and an Aussie. Take shots! What's Wrong With Lumme is another Ramone style winner by Glen Ford and the Piers. The Smugglers' Our Stanley Cup and Muscle Bitches' She Devils On Skates are decent. Itch's old school rink rap Swampwater is also pretty good. I especially like Sweaters' Hockey Sucks, where the narrator complete disses the sport, but in the process humorously reveals how much he knows about the NHL, including the names of all the teams.
I admittedly am a fan of the New York Rangers since childhood, but I am not a fanatic. I watch a game sometimes but since I started playing organized hockey, simply watching bores me. So let me relate to you a hare raising post-Halloween urban legend.
I have a friend, for purposes of anonymity let's me refer to him as "Mr. Slicey". Let's just say he is no Dancing Larry, but as far as non-dancing zealous fans go, he is in the top tier. He is a regular in the upper level sections of Madison Square Garden and probably still working on his public persona there. I fondly recall watching him enthusiastically taunting two 9 year old Islander fans during a preseason game after the Rangers took the lead.
But after the Rangers won the Stanley Cup in 1994 Mr. S. simply vanished. We did not know what happened to him. It was a sad thing, but we all moved on with our lives, as people do. We heard rumors of sightings, but we dismissed them, fearing the worst. Then suddenly 15 years later he reappears, much to the amazement of our small circle, M-Slice reappeared. It seemed to be the same person, wearing a ratty old Rangers jersey and sporting a beard straight out of the Old Testament, or a ZZ Top video. Turns out it wasn't a jersey, but merely the bottom portion of his beard knitted into a shirt. His sneaker were all worn out, as though he had walked all the way home from Manhattan. So what happened?
It turned out that at the very end of this game he was celebrating in one of the lounges when he realized that he was the only remaining fan except for a group of extremely short French Canadians. He had had a bit to drink that night and let his guard down, as he mistook the head of the group for Ranger great Rod Gilbert. They were downing ales and playing rounds on a bowling machine. "Rod" claimed that they had been doing this long before there was a Madison Square Garden. My friend doesn't remember much about what happened after the miniature Rod Gilbert led him into a mysterious elevator that he swears he went into. To this day he cannot show us where this elevator was. He vaguely remembers cheering at games, taking catnaps on top of Zambonis and has an uncanny knowledge of Ranger statistics. At times he thinks some mysterious giant named Malik is after him. His unusual regular diet of boiled hot dogs and beer gave him a serious case of malnutrition. For some reason he still screams out the strange phrase Potvin Sucks!, no matter what sporting event is played, sometimes even during reruns of Golden Girls. A sad and cautionary tale about the dangers of overzealous love of hockey in America, comparable in a way to sad story of Gram Parsons fatal attempt to become Keith Richards.
But for Canadians love of hockey is a necessary to everyday life. I believe there are secret camps somewhere in the vicinity of Hudson Bay where they do what they have to to deprogram hockey "pacifists". And no better place can be found to appreciate Canadians' love for their national sport than in The Hansons I'm Gonna Play Hockey.
But in Canada
The streets are paved with gold
In my rookie year I'll score 50 goals
I'll buy a luxury condo in Etobicoke
Let me sign on the line, I've got to go...
Mama, Papa wish me well
I'm gonna play for the NHL!!
If Joe Keithley ever becomes Canadian Premier this would be the new national anthem. Read his entertaining punk memoir I, Shithead for more elaboration on this, and the Vancouver punk rock scene.
It's okay Pete--They make the playoffs every year...
My buddy Pete complained that I neglected to wish him a happy Leif Ericson Day, so this Halloween post goes out to him. May the Aesir have mercy on his soul. I saw the cover of this album and immediately thought of him. The NHL hockey season has just begun and he is a huge fan of the New Jersey Devils. On the outside he seems like an average guy, but in his heart he is a face painter. He also used to play ice hockey with me for quite a few years. And he is tough, believe me. Early on in our beer league rookie days, he popped his shoulder out of the socket in the middle of a game. I told him to hit the showers, because after all, this is something we do for recreation. He said "no, that's alright", and proceeded to lean over and he popped the shoulder back in place like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon. The Gibson comparison ends there though--his wife is Jewish and he looks ridiculous in a kilt.
This album is crazy crazy crazy. Memphis crazy. It's a classic bluesy rock album recorded on horse tranquilizers with a budget of 149.95. There is a sort of grandiose confidence in the vocal deliveries of Scott Taylor. When he sings "I am the Mambo King" at the beginning of Skin Man Palace, I want to vote him into Congress. Every time I listen to this album, I like it a little more. A jauntily insane album, but it seems to proceed with its own brand of coherent logic, like you suddenly stumbled into a different dimension. The Grifters are compared to a huge assortment of bands, The Rolling Stones, Replacements, Guided By Voices, most notably. You could probably also compare them with Neil Young and Crazyhorse, Killdozer, Butthole Surfers, This Kind of Punishment, ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, Gun Club, and the lo-fi stuff on the old New Zealand Xpressway label. Crappin' You Negative is dense yet with a lot of sonic diversity and once you start listening you need to hear the whole thing.
This is pretty much a one of a kind album--it's too bad it seems to be out of print. But I just did some looking and you can buy this directly at Shangri-La records for ten bucks. It's probably not for everybody, but with songs like Dead Already, Piddlebach, Junkie Blood and Get Outta That Spaceship and Fight Like A Man, you probably need this.
