What we are doing, featuring a Transplants album review

On June 25^th, Transplants dropped their third album, their first in eight years: “In A Warzone.” We were especially anticipating this album after we had seen Rancid and Transplants live in Detroit and their album was not yet available, despite what Skinhead Rob had promised on Twitter. Suckers for anything Tim Armstrong records, we were all surprised to find that Skinhead Rob, the rapper of the band, took center stage in this album. It was evident that he was on lyric-writing duty as well. While the T-Plants’ previous records largely concerned criminal activity, dealing drugs, doing drugs, drinking beyond comprehension, mourning lost loved ones, and not caring about things, this album’s lyrical content is more along the lines of “fuck the President.” An avid follower of Skinhead Rob’s online activity, I am aware that he is a big fan of anarcho-punk and anti-government but socially liberal ideals (for years, I thought Skinhead Rob was named thusly for his baldness, but I have found that he is a true fan of Oi! music). He acts on these views through his raspy-voiced spewage in songs like “Silence,” “See It to Believe It,” “War Zone,” and “Gravestones and Burial Plots.” However, that does not defer Rob from discussing drug addiction, changing socio-economic landscapes, devolving moral codes of California gangland, and other issues important to the man. Nevertheless, the lyrics have more gravitas than the previous albums. Compare: “Tall cans in the air, let me see ‘em: fuck you!” vs. “One push of the button, and everyone’s gone! You gotta see it to believe it!” One is about partying hard, the other about impending nuclear war. The album’s flaws are apparent and lovable. The riff for “Something’s Different” is absolutely ridiculous, but listening to the song itself is a transformative experience. We listen to it every morning of tour and it enhances everyone’s mood by roughly 30 percent. The sheer vagueness of the line “Something’s Different” is what makes it so special: it could literally apply to anything, and Skinhead Rob and his guest rapper (I think it’s Paul Wall) literally make it a point to apply it to separate issue in each verse. The initial line, “She loves me – nope! – she loves me not,” will make you feel like you are on a drug. Skinhead Rob’s vocals become uncomfortably tuneful in “Back to You,” thus making it one of the most unlistenable songs on the album. I would recommend skipping this track to maximize your enjoyment of the vastly superior remainder of the album. Another aspect worth noting about this album, which could be its best or worst quality, is Skinhead Rob’s varying vocal styles. He spews in two forms: his “Haunted Cities”-style (their second record) raspy, more punk voice, and his laid-back, talky rap voice, which is newer and most apparent in “Saturday Night,” a song on Travis Barker’s wretched solo album “Give the Drummer Some!,” which features the Transplants. Once you can accept that these two voices are coming out of the same man’s mouth, it shouldn’t bother you much. In my own personal opinion, the best elements of “In a Warzone” are: 

• Tim Armstrong’s first verse in “War Zone,” largely because this was the first thing he sang at the highly energetic Transplant/Rancid show
• The entirety of the song “Any of the Them,” a jammer so catchy that it took every nerve in my circulatory system not to hit the “repeat one” button on my iPod when it came on
• The psychotic bass-break in “Silence”
• The general impenetrability of the lyrics – the album featured no lyric booklet, but this couldn’t necessary be expected since the Transplants’ previous albums didn’t, either.
• The Egyptian riff of “It’s a Problem” is either genius or strongly indicative of a songwriter with very limited intelligence and moral conscience.

I would grade this album an A+. Although I addressed some things as flaws, they only serve to enhance the album’s vibe. It will undoubtedly become our tour’s 30-minute anthem, and whenever I hear “Something’s Different” after July 5^th (Cruelster’s final date of the tour – Ages will continue until July 16^th as they scale the East Coast), I will remember driving through the rocky Idaho landscape with the windows down in a half-asleep daze.

Other albums I’ve and/or we’ve played to death on this tour (if I don’t list “best songs,” it probably means that either all of the songs are good, or none stand out as especially better than the others; that’s not to say that the songs that are not “best songs” are necessarily bad songs):

• NONA – “Through the Head” (best songs: “Now and Then,” “Give,” “Jack Chan,” “Bottles”)
• The Ramones – “End of the Century” (best songs: “Danny Says,” “The Return of Jackie and Judy”)
• Cocteau Twins – “Treasure”
• Cocteau Twins – “Heaven or Las Vegas”
• JEFF the Brotherhood – “We Are The Champions”
• Rancid – S/T (1993)
• The Smiths – “Meat is Murder”
• Dislitch – Demo (We haven’t actually listened to much of this, but the song titles are stuck in our collective head, i.e. “God-Sized Hole in Hell” and “Withering Cunt”)

I’m also in the process of trying to get a hold of Kurt Vile’s new album. I should also mention that whenever a band is mentioned in this blog, it means that they are worth looking up and listening to. Except Strike Force. I strongly encourage Strike Force’s reputation be tarnished.

As far as books go, I have been doing much more reading than writing, though I have read a lot of comics, including:

• Valiant Comics’ entire revamped line, including “Bloodshot,” “XO-Manowar,” and “Harbinger”
• “Jupiter’s Legacy” by Mark Millar, who I usually can’t stand, but it seems like he’s really trying this time
• Paul Cornell’s new “Wolverine” series, which, despite a terrible fourth issue, seems to be the first real examination of Wolverine’s personality and humanity
• Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s “Batman: Zero Year,” which is a more creative approach to Batman than Snyder’s previous run, which just recycled old Joker ideas and secret society intrigue
• Brian Bendis’s “All-New X-Men,” the best superhero comic I’ve read that is 100% comprised of emotional conversations
• I’m currently reading Sean Murphy’s “Punk Rock Jesus,” a science fiction atheist manifesto that is insanely better than its cheesy title suggests
• I also bought a new Fantagraphics release “The Last Day of the Rest of Your Life,” which I haven’t read, but Piss really seemed to enjoy
• Piss also read “Rage,” an out-of-print school shooter novel by Richard Bachman (a.k.a. Stephen King), and he didn’t like it. I read it a year ago and thought it was acceptable.
• I’m letting Airick read my copy of “VALIS” by Philip K. Dick (probably my favorite book of all time), which he is absorbing next to me as I type this
• Kid Gone Crazy is slurping up Joe Hill’s magnum opus “NOS4A2,” a psycho horror novel that Yes-Yes also recently finished and liked a lot
• The only novel I’ve read on tour is “Train to Pokipse” by Rami Shamir that I picked up at Copacetic Comics in Pittburgh. It's short novel that examines the depravity and uselessness of our generation through New York’s nightlife subculture and strong sexual imagery. It’s one of the best independently published novels I’ve read, and my only criticism is, despite its brevity, it could use some revision, especially regarding narrative clarity and the clever but often overused train metaphor.

I did not end up updating the van line-up as often as I had intended. I actually forgot about the idea until five days into tour, and by then it was too late. Airick’s van, Vanzig, technically seats twelve, but we seat one in the driver’s seat, which is usually filled by strong drivers like me, Symptom, Piss, Yes-Yes, and Kid Gone Crazy, one in the “shotgun” seat, two in the second row as long as one person lays atop the three giant comfy laundry bags stuffed with Ages and Cruelster shirts (it is much more hot and uncomfortable than it sounds), two more sit in the third row, which tends not to incite many problems, and one sits in the “Halfway House,” which is the half of the fourth row that isn’t being occupied by bass cabs or luggage. We call it the “Halfway House” both out of respect for institutions that support criminal reform and out of humor in the fact that it is half of a row. It is roomier than any other seat, but it tends to result isolation from the rest of the van’s conversation or festivities. Those who are in low spirits often request this seat. Those who are in good spirits often request this seat often because of the comfort it offers, but its inherent isolation quickly turns good spirits into bad. Depression is easy to fall into on tour. If you are mad at everyone, there is nowhere to go. If you want to be with one or two people and not everyone, there is nowhere to go and no one to tell. Therefore, it is best to hide one’s feelings or to ignore them until home is reached. When you are sad, smile at someone, even if it’s fake, and it will make you feel half an ounce better. 

Here is an account of the current status of the van:

• Yes-Yes is driving us through Death Valley. His shirt is off, exposing his bright pink sun-kissed body. We have encountered legions of windmills, all of which enhance Yes-Yes’s power, control, and attitude a millionfold. This is both great and terrible, but why, when, or how he will utilize this rejuvenation is unknown and foreboding.
• Maple is asleep in the front seat listening to crack rock. He is wearing his trademark red plaid flannel shirt, swimming in his thick, cream-colored comforter and red Northface jacket, which he received from our friend Adam in Utah, to hide from the blaring air conditioning.
• Airick is next to me in the second row alternating between iPhone exploration, sketchpad doodling, and reading “VALIS.” I have witnessed him taking several selfies, which will likely end up on the internet at a later hour.
• Timebomb is taking an uncomfortable nap on top of the aforementioned shirt bags, an area we call the “well.” He often sits up to readjust his sore, weathered body or to change the song on his iPod. I have not seen him close his eyes yet.
• Kid Gone Crazy is directly behind me in the third row. He recently fell asleep while reading “NOS4A2” on the refurbished Nook e-reader he bought at a store in San Francisco near the Sub Mission. When KGC sleeps, he leans entirely forward, pressing his weary, psychotic forehead against the back of the seat in front of him, thus preventing the one in front of him from being able to lean his or her (in this case, it would just be “his”) head back. It is neither right nor wrong, but just simply one of the many inconveniences of modern American life.
• Next to Kid Gone Crazy slumbers Symptom face-forward in his dirty, off-orange pillow. He sleeps like an angel, and he deserves the comfort he so rarely receives. He is garbed in his brand new Nirvana – “SLIVER” shirt, likely listening that very album in his black headphones.
• Piss is staring out the window from the Halfway House. He is both ecstatic and furious, but, at the same time, he is neither. He is listening to his iPod, either trying to enjoy the barren landscape or trying to sleep it away. 

I will post the next blog about the scariest experience of our lives hopefully later today. You can follow our tour more directly by following @tiboonda or the hashtag #LIMMIASOM on Twit. It is very hot. I feel light.