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First it was Venom, and most recently Paul Stanley was given the honor, but now it’s Jimi Hendrix’s turn to step up to the mic for nuttin’ but raw stage banter! It’s right at thirty minutes and (as somebody who doesn’t do drugs) I felt absolutely intoxicated by the end of this.

In an attempt to "relax" the next few days, I think I’m gonna post a couple more weird esoteric mp3s like this before I leave for LA on Thursday. Oh, and did y’hear that The Police are gonna do a "wacky impromptu jam sesh" at the Grammies? Yeah, me and the wife have to endure that bit of commercialism. I’m sure I’ll survive. Anybody know where the cool coke parties at?

Jimi Hendrix – Spoken Word Tape
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The first album I completely obsessed over was Bill Cosby’s "To Russell My Brother, Whom I Slept With." In fact, to this day, I can recite the entire 22 minute conceptual piece b-side to it without assistance. As years went on, I ended up with Cosby’s entire discography and loved all of it, but "Russell" still stands out (perhaps due to childhood bias) as a shining star. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I bring this up……

Since around Christmas, I’ve been obsessing over the edits of will become Patton Oswalt’s second "proper" album which we recorded in Austin last month. Oh sure, I co-produced the first album and I produced all of the EPs and dumb little one-off things, but this album (due out in June) has been my singular responsibility and is now permanently etched into my cerebellum. I know my wife has grown tired of hearing it, my puppy is too cute to grow tired of anything, and me? I’ve fluttered between knowing what I’m listening to and thinking I’m a mad man over the past ten days or so.

Working on this album has given me a whole new appreciation for what actual record producers do. Fussing over mixes, overdubs, mastering, the whole nine yards. Hell, I’m working on a live stand up comedy album, and it’s a lot of work! However, with that said, I do think that this Patton album will easily fit in the pantheon of all time great comedy albums alongside records by Redd Foxx, Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Steve Martin, Bill Hicks and a few others that I can’t think of right now (it’s 3 a.m. and I’m drop-dead tired).

I’m so honored to be working on this album and I’m giddy to hear what people have to say about it because, in all honesty, I think it’s going to be an instant classic. In the meantime, get a mug of hot chocolate, download this mp3 and pretend you’re a 9-year old listening to this for the gabillionth time and you’ll get a glimpse of what was flowing through my noggin in 1978 as a kid sitting on the living room floor of my parent’s suburban house.

Bill Cosby – To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With
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You know, earlier last year, I co-hosted a day at Shake It Records in Cincinnati where me and my co-host Billy took people out of the Hall of Fame that clearly didn’t deserve to be in and inducted many who so painfully deserved it. Of course, along the way, Billy and I became lovers. So it’s with great pleasure that I noticed that Van Halen are FINALLY being inducted. They’ve been eligible for four or five years but (as with most industry oogie-boogie rituals) there’s no rhyme or reason as to who gets in or who doesn’t. And the Ronettes? Doesn’t it seem like they would’ve been in ages ago.

This year’s inductees are:
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five
R.E.M.
The Ronettes
Patti Smith
Van Halen

Feel free to list any bands that should be inducted in the comments section. Me? The Thirteenth Floor Elevators, The Troggs and The Sonics seem like no-brainers, but I know I don’t have mass popularity in the front of my mind very often. Call it a curse.

Van Halen – Live at US Festival 83
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Any soul, gospel or funk reissue released by the Numero Group label
Dead C Vain, Erudite and Stupid (Ba Da Bing!)
Dead Moon Echoes of the Past (Sub Pop)
Coyle & Sharpe These Two Men Are Imposters 3CD/1DVD set (Sharpeworld)
The Fix At The Speed of Twisted Thought (Touch & Go)
The Birmingham Sound The Soul of Neal Hemphill vol 1 (Choke)
Chavez Better Days Will Haunt You (Matador)
Kenny Smith One More Day (Shake It Records)
Botch Unifying Themes Redux (Hydrahead)

I got this photo earlier today and totally forgot about the duck feast that Les Savy Fav cooked for everybody at the old ATP location at Pontin’s in Rye. Ah, I get misty just thinkin’ about it.

Artistic genius most likely to use the phrase "leg injury" to excuse "poor ticket sales."

I think I’m showing my age with this post, but what a fucking band. Michael from the DUSTdevils has been gracious enough to post the band’s entire recorded output through his own website for free download. I really don’t know what to say about this band as I’ve always put them as kind of an indescribable force. A show in Pittsburgh and then later at a shit-box loft in Baltimore were the only times I got to see them and thankfully, I did. Further reaffirming the fact that living in the South keeps those ‘cult’ type bands away, I don’t reckon the DUSTdevils ever played down south once I moved here.

"Rhenyard’s Grin" is a common dollar bin find, but I still wonder why. It, along with "Struggling Electric + Chemical", are total keepers. I guess people are too interested in finding Animal Collective bootlegs instead of digging deep in the back catalogs of better (and more significantly talented) bands.

DUSTdevils were peers of bands that went on to have ‘legacies’ like Rhys Chatham, Glenn Branca and Sonic Youth and other legacy-free bands like Live Skull and Rat At Rat R…. Funny how time and place can trivialize or mythologize an artist.

Download all this DUSTdevils stuff for yourself and tell me I’m wrong. This is one of the most under appreciated bands from the late 80’s/early 90’s. Hopefully having these records for free download might help remedy that problem.

To call this last week a "recovery" from the 13th anniversary is a joke. No sooner did the thing end than I had a movie crew to shuttle around for a day for this Rye Coalition movie coming out. Then they left and the in-laws showed up 2 hours later. That was fun. I got to take them to IKEA for the first time. After that, I decided to put the remaining Chunklet 13th stock for sale. In 24 hours I got 175 orders! By week’s end, I got double that. The local post office hates me right now. I’m still in a fog. Still photos and mp3s to post from the past weekend, still orders to fill and then there’s this thing I have called a "Life" somewhere in the mix. More later.   

One thing though….. The Zach Galifianakis shirts are going to their rightful owner on Tuesday morning as UPS picks them up to deliver the boxes to Mr. G in Virginia and the Patton/Melvins split is all but gone. I strongly urge getting these now before I have to delete your tardy request for these items after I told you to get on it. Cool?  

And in case you’ve ever wondered if you should get 300 car air fresheners made with the aroma spice, don’t even consider it. My car reeks right now only because I refuse to bring the box into the house. What the hell was I thinking?

Laughing Hyenas – Everything I Want
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Laughing Hyenas – Here We Go Again
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Laughing Hyenas – Life Of Crime
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Laughing Hyenas – New Gospel
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I’m sure chunklet.com seems like a never-ending shrine to the greatness that is Harvey Milk, but whatever. It’s my party, I can do what I want. 

Of course, flying Harvey Milk in to play 3 shows together this past weekend was a crowning achievement. A headlining show at the Drunken Unicorn (mp3s below provided by Southern Shelter), and two shows opening up for The Big Melvins with Yow? I mean, duh. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to see that?

Two bummers, though. Number one, I didn’t get the chance to see the Atlanta show because I was too busy at the 40 Watt show I had that night with Zach and Patton seventy miles away in Athens. I heard the show was awesome, but surprisingly not that well attended. So bizarre, but I did hear that Celtic Frost was playing a block away. Anybody’s guess…

The second bummer is that while en route to the Whirlyball show in Roswell, the van carrying Kyle, Stephen and a couple of friends got in a terrible collision on 316. The good news is that nobody was hurt, but the bad news is that Harvey Milk were in no shape to perform which is a crying shame.

Even though the band’s barely been back a year, things are already changing. It’s looking like Paul is leaving the band to become a daddy, Kyle Spence will more than likely rejoin the band and there’s rumblings of (gasp!) Joe Preston joining as well. Let’s see what happens….. Knowing how the band operates, I’ll believe it when I see it, but I just want to see them perform and get out there as much as possible. The world needs them now more than ever.

Harvey Milk – I’ve Got A Love (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – War (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – Crush Them All (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – Instrumental (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – Love Swing (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – Old Glory (Atlanta ’06)
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Harvey Milk – Mother’s Day (Atlanta ’06)
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Let the photo posting begin….. So much to say…

These pix were all taken at Whirlyball Atlanta on Sunday night. Yow totally threw down on the Whirlyball court, but Buzz was apprehensive. It was only at 2a.m. that he decided to join and it was the exact moment the courts were shut down. Next time, Buzz.

And depending on how you count Team Melvins (Porn, Big Business, Melvins, Altamont, etc.) we could’ve chalked up another 4 victories, but we’ll take the high road and just say it was just one more for the victory column. What does that put us at now? 26 and 0. Our next match is a revenge rally with Death Cab and Ted Leo. And yes, I am nervous.

The artwork just arrived and it’s being cut down and scored as we speak. With the Zach Galifianakis shirts, the Jay Ryan posters, the Jesse LeDoux posters, the records along with 2 G5 computer crates (it’s best that you don’t ask), my living room looks like a receiving dock right now. I keep reassuring my wife that it’ll all disappear by next week.

You know, I love Jay Ryan. I mean, he’s not only a great guy, a great bass player and a great illustrator, but he was more than happy to oblige my hair-brained idea for the poster celebrating the 13th anniversary of clowns, robots and little nerdy kids fighting each other…..

Of course, I spotted that Jay omitted Mr. Yow from the poster which was easily remedied on the final version. These’ll be available on the site after the party…providing there are any left. Then again, Athens is legendary when it comes to doing horribly with merch sales….. So I might actually have a ton to sell on here. We’ll see.

I did this interview in the El Myr parking lot with cars honking all around me and my burrito getting cold inside. Still fun. Much like Houston was.

Finally, the great cranky Christ is waked from its sabbatical, given the royal archeological treatment. For those of legal drinking age in the fair State of Georgia, the ‘90s were a deep-throated beer and bourbon funnel with a few unwanted lap dances thrown in for brunch time trophy talk. That Athens’ Harvey Milk just so happened to be playing when most of the carnage unfolded was the luck of the draw; some people just lead Goddamned charmed lives. Now Chunklet’s Henry Owings has somehow managed to compile an exhaustive collection of the band’s most compelling performances on a DVD for those of that were blinded by blackout when the sparks flew.

Named for a gay San Francisco politician and comprised of three guys who could have become caricatures of their selves, Creston Spiers, Stephen Tanner and Pauly Trudeau—later “drum dork” Kyle Spence—woke flannel choked crowds with a sound that ran with few and walked with even fewer. Creston was created solely to karaoke any song Billy Gibbons ever belted out, but his delivery dragged on into near torturous realms. Left drunk and alone, in front of the television while the Sorrow and the Pity plays over and over again is about as close as one might get to an analogue. Pauly: He pummeled his kit; skins were skinned; cymbals smashed; kick drum crushed by a five-ton foot. Tanner? That fucker bobbed and bounced and shook his skinny ass; bass slung low, shit-eating grin kept behind an omnipresent five-day growth.

All of the above is presented in fine form, and in some of Atlanta’s most esteemed halls: Dottie’s, BLT’s, Grooveyard, The Point. Dottie’s, the sole survivor, regrouped as Lenny’s, the rest were either bulldozed to make more space for “loft” apartments, coffee houses or suburban chain restaurants. Harvey Milk sped up as dive bar mortality rate rose; with Kyle Spence on the throne, Tanner upped the boogie. Creston acquiesced; in navy blue onesie, he wrecked through some of the heaviest honky tonk’d rock ‘n’ roll not heard since the Little Band from Texas unleashed Fandango! The counterpoint is tremendous. What was once La Brea paced was now the quickest horse out of the gates. Potency remained; it only transmogrified, sprinting through complex and engaging arrangements peppered with Creston’s trademark salt: lyrics built around the engine of non sequitur—Cormac McCarthy and methamphetamine separated by six degrees, powered solely by the irrational, the unwanted. He delivered them like he was trying to pass a football out of his ass. Tanner and Paul—Tanner and Spence—broke up the space around his tirades; there were often casualties.

Sitting at a Grooveyard table, dead drunk, hunched into a chair, watching as two half-empty Mickey’s danced over the side to smash upon the floor without a sound. Harvey Milk were slamming through “Smile”; it’s included on this DVD, brought back to me in an impossibly bright light that feels like every single one of my ‘90s blackouts delineated in painstaking detail. A year later, there’s a performance of “All the Live Long Day,” complete with sledgehammer. One of the Milk’s finest moments, Creston unearths railroad workman angst of biblical proportion and hammers it into nothingness. Three years later there’s “Anita Languished in Solitary Splendor, Jabbing Needles Into Her Buttocks,” jetting beyond the awkwardness of its title, fleet of foot and at the mercy of Kyle Spence whose impeccable timing and taste strut, smash, and sprint through every random rhythmic pattern that presented itself to Bonzo’s booze addled brain. A full nine years later we’ve come full circle. Pauly’s back behind the kit; Creston and Tanner to stage left and right: new songs, good Goddamned old sound.

Harvey Milk: not many listened to them. Their shows—at least the ones I was at—were sparsely attended. Their longevity is as inspiring as it is surprising. No one expected them to last as long as they did, much less reform. For those that came late to the party, Anthem will be a scolding revelation. For those that stayed too late, it’s a salient reminder of giving praise where praise is due, at home in this puppet show land, where everything has got God’s hand up its ass.

Harvey Milk’s Anthem is available on DVD now.

Although I’d take him to task for over-romanticizing the Atlanta rock club scene, thank you, Stewart Voegtlin.

The day before this show was spent driving and scrambling around to see Celtic Frost and then the party at the Spotted Pig, but day-of-show in New York was nutty. I was thinking that I’d finally get a decent night’s sleep, but no dice. Sarah woke up early to go shopping and I got up around 10 and was answering email and on the phone the entire time leading up to the show.
Logistically, the show was kind of fucked. A projection screen that was to arrive by 4 wasn’t at the venue until 10 minutes before doors opened and the stage manager’s native language was Italian so there was just way too much miscommunication given the nature of his job. However, the show itself was spectacular.

I think the show was like $28 at the door, but if you wanted to break it down, it was easily the best money spent for a night of comedy ever. Not only were Patton, Brian, Morgan and Eugene performing, but there was a cavalcade of stars rotating in for the shows….. David Cross and Jon Benjamin did a great conceptual piece that went off without a hitch. Nick Swardsen also performed. And then Jonathan Glazer did a jaw-droppingly simple yet brilliant piece as the insult comic Johnny Ding Dong.

Got to see a ton of friends at the show. Seth Jabour showed up. Tom Scharpling came. Met and bonded with Terre T about our mutual disdain for modern hipster publications. And of course as always, Todd Hanson from The Onion came and let me touch his beard. That shit is so fucking tight.

The big question that Brian and I had for the days leading up to the show is to whether it’s pronounced "Kel-tic" (my pronunciation) or "Sell-tic" (the more traditional American pronuncation).

There was a great black metal band called 1349 that opened. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a band actually perform with corpse paint on. I don’t know why, but I just find it funny. Not in a ha-ha sort of way, but in a "why bother?" sort of way.

We then went to a bar called the Speckled Pig and ate with Brian’s buddies Scott Ian and his wife Pearl along with managers, agents and other folk that reaffirm as to why I live in Georgia. Oh, Sarah Silverman also asked me if I was a cop. I guess that was an interesting highlight, but really, I was just dead tired and wanted to hit the hay immediately.

Celtic Frost-Dethroned Emperor
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Celtic Frost-Ground
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Celtic Frost-Innocence and Wrath
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Celtic Frost-Eternal Summer
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I’m not too keen on days off, but the comedians insist. Went and had snacks with Patton’s family in the VA ‘burbs, had killer sushi then went back to Brian’s room and watched 9/11 sentimental drivel for 2 hours.

This show probably ranks up there with Chicago at Logan Square as one of the best the CoC have ever done. Apart from a shitty heckler during Morgan’s set, the crowd was in these guy’s hands. A fun show. Couldn’t ask for a more supportive crowd.

28 year old Timmy Von Trimble who is 1/2 inch tall opened. Check out The Best Show on WFMU to find out more.

Courtesy of the mighty Ryan Russell….

All the pix are right here.

I really couldn’t envision a better start to the tour. The Pull The String Players did a 20 minute puppet show to open about MC Homo Side, the world’s first gay gangsta rapper. Everybody did great sets, fun crowd. We’re now running late to Asheville, but goddamn, I fucking LOVE Asheville.

Best Patton one-liner of the nite:>Q: What did the Jewish pedophile say to the child?A: Alright, that’s enough candy.

This tour’s gonna rule.