Washington D.C. has a long history of “people doing something real.” Aside from sparking lunar missions, ending wars, and all of the other achievements of its infestation of politicians, D.C was the pulpit for a change to the state of music. Hardcore, a scuzzier, faster, and obnoxiously loud brand of punk crawled into the sunlight from out under the shadow of the city’s noble statues and monuments and hulking Roman columns supporting the weight of an entire nation.

The D.C. hardcore scene (or harDCore) birthed Bad Brains, raised Henry Rollins, and housed Ian MacKaye’s socially aware “Straight Edge” movement. In the 80’s, the bands of Dischord Records and others pioneered DIY distribution and touring and transformed punk’s traditionally anarchist bent into something more ambitious while sharpening its visceral edge to a bleeding point. D.C.’s has a prestige that runs much deeper than anything written in grade school history books. The Shirks don’t give a damn about any of that.

The Shirks, which is made up of drummer Andy Gale, bassist Kevin Longendyke, guitarist Ned Moffitt , and vocalist/guitarist Alec Budd have released their debut EP in the midst of D.C.’s Cocoran Gallery’s celebration of harDCore, “Pump Me Up: D.C. Subculture of the 1980s.” I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence. Their raw-throated barking, ripsaw guitars and simple-minded brutality aim to tear down whatever complacency and nostalgia harDCore has gathered in its old age. There’s no inkling of social awareness in their lyrics, no reprieve from their pummeling, and no apology for their rage.

For a scene that used three chords and two minute songs as weapons against traditional definitions of music, normal behavior, and even the city of DC, the image of hardcore elders and who’s-who of the city sipping champagne while “Banned in DC” plays in the background strikes me as odd, even profane. Sure, I’m glad that harDCore has finally been recognized as the positive and influential force it is in the very city that tried to suppress it and, yeah, it’s cool to see D.C. embracing more than just its political achievements but it just feels so… established.

Thankfully, the Shirks have inherited the old scene’s rejection of anything “normal.” Their music is impossible to find because of the band’s staunch rejection of Internet presence, their music is impenetrable, volcanic blasts of noise that can barely hold a melody, and they could care less about anything more than the primal pleasure of sound and fury. Opener “Motherhood of the Wolf” is about as primitive as you can get. The drums sound like bombs being dropped, the guitar’s fuzz blurs the line between sounding like “fuzz” or just raw electricity, and the lyrics barely coherent tribute to waitresses at D.C. Café St.-Ex (?) or whatever feels like an afterthought. It’s all about the noise, the enveloping, battering noise.

The band takes a second to catch their breath before they slam into the sleazy “Sex Gear.” The nice Southern rock influenced solo, jumping guitar, and Budd’s insistent incoherence keep the energy of “Motherhood of the Wolf” and turn it up a couple notches. “Dirty Teen Wolf” is slightly slower, which at this speed is like comparing a formula 1 racer and a Learjet, but no less exciting. Budd screams, “I don’t know a thing / about love” as the band whirls around him. The Shirks have the punk/hardcore formula down: drums that sound like a music store dropped out of a speeding car, plenty of angst, and guitars that slash and burn whatever is left.

If the rest of the songs distributed their charms between different parts of a winning formula, “Bad Area” decided to just focus on drums. The guitars still carry a sliver of melody but the main attraction of the song is when those incessant, walloping drums take over. If you turn it loud enough, they’re like boots stomping your eardrums into the pavement. And I say that with a very big smile. The cleverly named “9:30 Dicks” (and what good punk song doesn’t have an equally great title?), rails against the famous D.C. club with an upraised finger, three chords, and Budd’s accusatory “You / You hate my rock and roll!”

“Nakitomi Liz” nearly has a swagger to its roiling chaos. The band surges and retreats, blasting the listener with machine-gun quick drumming before backing up to delivery the chorus and then rushing back in. “Don’t Tell Me” is the most vicious song on the album. The band’s at full blast, delivering a guitar solo that sounds like a drill, and their racket sounds like it was recorded in a basement. It’s amateurish, sounds like shit, and is barely coherent. Thankfully, those sound great in the hands of the Shirks. The three-minute “I Don’t Want To Work It” is nearly prog-like in complexity compared to the rest of the album and sounds more like traditional rock and roll than hardcore. Its wounded romanticism and scream-along chorus sound like a Japandroids outtake while the song’s adept guitar solo is the most shocking thing on the whole album. These guys can play more than just three chords and a couple notes strung together for a solo! The Shirks have spent the whole album making it abundantly clear that they don’t have to do anything if they don’t want to and I’m fine with that. But is it too much to ask for a couple more songs like “I Don’t Want to Work It?” Pretty please?

The Shirks are brutal, inarticulate, offensive and utterly fantastic. They’re at the forefront of the newest wave of the DC punk scene and, gosh, do they deserve it.

Bandcamp page: http://gravemistakerecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-shirks

Because I love reading about and studying health I know that gut health is super important. I’ve worked long and hard to recover my health and getting my gut health back has been an important part of the journey. Lately I’ve learned even more about it and I’m thinking that if I take it to the next level and have a super duper thriving healthy good bacteria rich gut I won’t even need to ever burp. Maybe just occasionally in a ‘ladylike manner’ covering my lips with my hand and demurely apologizing.

I work with a company called Mannatech that makes powerful, natural, plant based supplements. They have a great powdered pro and pre biotic called Gi-Pro. From working with them I’ve learned that 80% of your immune system is in your gut. From my own experience with having to take massive antibiotics which destroy your gut health I’ve noticed myself that when your gut health is poor it also affects your brain functionality. I had bad ‘brain fog’ before. I would tell people “If you don’t see me write it down it doesn’t exist”. I was talking about appointments not reality in general. Strong antioxidants helped my brain as well but gut health is super important for some reason for brain health.

Another way to get lots of healthy bacteria in your gut is to make or buy cultured vegetables. According to The Westen Price Foundation all healthy indigenous people had pickled or preserved vegetables of some description. Kimchi from Korea and sauerkraut are a couple of classic versions of this. A couple of weekends ago I went to a workshop where we learned to make our own cultured vegetables. The smell is a bit overwhelming so I wanted to do this while my darling was away on work. Basically you chop up a bunch of fresh, organic if possible, veggies like cabbage, cauliflower, onions, carrots, etc. Stuff them in a big glass jar that can have a loose fitting lid. Put in a pinch of salt, a teaspoon of some form of sugar for the little probiotics to feed on and fill with water above the level of veggies. We used a capsule of a probiotic mixed with the water. Then sit it somewhere and wait a week or so. Google ‘cultured vegetables’ or ‘fermented vegetables’ and you will find a world of opinion and advice on how to do this. It’s an active, growing, lively community just like you want your gut to have!

My veggies are all cultured now and safe in the fridge. I’m eating my recommended 1/4 cup with every meal and I think I may be burping less. The test will be when my darling comes home. Will he notice less burping or that there is a smell of fermented cabbage in the house?

There are many drugs that try to treat depression, including SSRIs (Prozac and others), tricyclic antidepressants (like Tryptomer), SNRIs, NDRIs, and about a dozen other categories.  Often, taking a dose of antidepressants won’t help, and such drugs must be combined with other types of medicine, such as atypical antipsychotics, which sometimes function as “enhancers” to whatever else is already being used.  Most people with severe clinical depression (like myself) are saddled with taking 6 or more psychiatric drugs every day, for life, only to find that after a while, the drugs cease working and make the depression worse, instead of better.  To top it all off, nearly all psychiatric drugs have serious (and sometimes life-threatening) side effects, including major weight changes, chronic fatigue, possible organ damage, sexual dysfunction, endocrine imbalance, and even (counter intuitively) life-threatening depressive episodes.

To be perfectly clear: severe clinical depression is an excruciatingly painful, life-threatening disease.  It never goes away, and the pain of it–both mental and physical–can be more than enough to drive a person quite literally insane.  It should be no surprise, given this, that many people who have this torturous disease decide that continuing to live in endless, agonizing pain is not a decent prospect.  (Those who rail against severely, chronically depressed people who commit or attempt suicide only show their ignorance about how awful the disease is.  Of course, I don’t recommend any such attempts, but I can absolutely understand the need to end the pain of living.)

At this point, it’s worth noting that psychiatric drugs are only effective in about 40% of depression patients (according to the numbers I’ve seen).  This means that for most people, treatment for depression–while essential–involves a long and drawn-out process of trial-and-error while the doctors scratch their heads and (basically) try random-ish stuff until they find something that seems to work.  Those who are familiar with this process become acutely aware that medical professionals have basically no idea why the brain does what it does, or even why psychiatric drugs work when they do.  If you don’t believe me, watch a commercial for antidepressant medicine, and listen for phrases like, “it is believed that <drug name> works by…”  Even the names of the drugs (e.g. Selective Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor–SSRI) are purely speculative, since it’s only reasoned that they do what their names imply.

Finally, in order to see if a given treatment regimen will do what the doctors hope it will, one has to take the medicines religiously, for at least one month (sometimes longer), before enough of the drug is in the patient’s system to do anything at all.  Of course, at that point the drug will either work (perhaps enough, perhaps not), not work at all, or make the symptoms even worse!  Thus, many people with depression eventually (or quickly) decide to give up on treatment and do their best to otherwise not be miserable–or kill themselves.

For completeness, I’ll outline a sample of what such treatment regimens cost.  Without insurance, back when I was taking about 8 medicines each day, prescriptions alone (that is, not counting doctor visits) would have cost me upward of $2,000 every month.  WITH insurance at a premium of about $470 per month (yes, you read that right–nearly $500 for just me), the co-pays for my prescriptions lingered around $500 per month.  So, to be able to take a large number of drugs that kind-of worked sometimes, and made things worse the rest of the time, and which also destroyed parts of my body (and which created very nasty withdrawal symptoms–including shaking, pain, hot and cold flashes, etc.), and to attend doctor visits in order to change the regimen, hoping for better results, I paid around $1,300 every month with insurance in order to attempt to treat my depression.

Eventually, my symptoms (and the economy) caused me to lose my job and be unable to get another one.  I therefore was abruptly without medicines (and facing withdrawal), and without income or health insurance of any kind.  I’m not entirely sure how I managed to stay alive until I managed to impress upon the government that I needed financial aid.  Ultimately, though, I was given disability benefits (SSI and Social Security; don’t ask me why they’re two separate things from the same agency; I don’t understand it), and Medi-Cal.

The New Treatment

Not long ago, my mother showed me an NPR article, online, that outlined a new kind of treatment for depression, using drugs previously thought to be completely unrelated.  The article is here:

http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/01/31/146096540/i-wanted-to-live-new-depression-drugs-offer-hope-for-toughest-cases

To summarize, the street drug, “Special K” (ketamine–a schedule 3 pain reliever) has been in common use as a “self-medicating” drug amongst those with depression.  Of course, ketamine has some powerful and potentially harmful side effects, including addiction, so it’s not ideal–especially for self-administration.

Researchers of depression eventually took notice of this and conducted some trials.  It was soon found that ketamine can, indeed, relieve depression better than any of the other drugs commonly used for this illness, and a whole lot faster, too.  Patients reported remarkable changes to their mood within hours or days, rather than months, and it proved highly effective in treating cases that had been resistant to all other treatments.  Soon, it was discovered that Riluzole (used to treat Lou Gehrig’s Disease) and Scopolamine (for motion sickness and surgical nausea) also worked just as well, and weren’t nearly as dangerous.  Patients who underwent these treatments reported lasting, remarkable improvements in their moods, and the sudden ability to start doing the things they loved and needed to do.  It should be noted that Riluzole and Scopolamine both have potential side effects, but that their side effects are pretty manageable, compared with ketamine, or depression, itself.  (If you’re interested, this relief seems to be a result of increasing the level of glutamate in the brain, so theoretically, any drug that does this, like those above, may provide a like benefit.)

So, shortly after reading this article, I asked my doctor (a physician’s assistant, technically) to look into prescribing me one of these drugs.  After a week of looking into it, he prescribed me Scopolamine patches (transdermal, 1.5mg), and told me to discontinue use and contact him if I experienced mania, deliriousness, excessive fatigue, hallucinations, very severe dry mouth, major dizziness or other symptoms.  Of course, all but fatigue, dizziness, and dry mouth are very rare, and only tend to surface among those with a predisposition for them (e.g. those with bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, etc.), but the responsible thing was to warn me, so he did so.  As it turns out, the biggest symptom I have from it is dry mouth (which is a bit irritating to my asthma, but not unmanageably so), and I mitigate it with sugar-free chewing gum.  I do sometimes get tired for no apparent reason, but it’s rare, and since my depression made me exhausted nearly all the time (I also happen to have fibromyalgia, which the treatment is also helping me against), I’m overall a lot more energetic than I’ve been in years.  More than that, I’ve been able to renew my interest in music (guitar, theory, and composition), creative and philosophical writing (as evidenced…), learning about various sciences (including electronic theory), designing a RPG gaming system and campaign setting, etc.  All in all, this has been an amazing improvement to my quality of life.

I still don’t feel well enough to work reliably (partly, I think, because the Scopolamine patch only comes in one dose, and I don’t think it’s large enough), and as such, it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to earn my own living at any time in the foreseeable future, but I’m now able to volunteer a bit in answering Linux-related questions, teaching music theory, and other things that I deem to be of at least some benefit to society.  In short, I no longer feel like quite so much of an outcast.  Maybe someday, I’ll find a way to fully and truly re-join society and the workforce thereof, but in the meantime, I’m at least not in much pain–which is a major step in the right direction.

If you or someone you know has been struggling with a “resilient” case of depression (or fibromyalgia), please feel free to contact me via this blog.  It’s possible that I’ll be able to get my doctor to send over some anonymized data to the acting health professional, so that he/she can make a better assessment on whether such a treatment would work well in your case.  Several medical professionals where I live have taken an interest in this new treatment as a result of my using it, and I expect that it can help a lot of people, if only those in charge of health care were to learn about it.

One final note: Scopolamine (and Riluzole) aren’t cheap.  Scopolamine comes in packs of 4 patches (3 days of use, each), and each pack costs between $50 and $75 (usually $75, depending on where you buy them).  Thus, one ends up paying that amount every 12 days.  My doctor was able to get Medi-Cal to pay for them, so now I get them at no charge (thank goodness!); otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to afford more than the first couple weeks’ worth. So, if your insurance doesn’t pay for it, initially, bug them until they do!  Medi-Cal’s authorization process seems to work based on flipping a coin, so if at first you don’t succeed, a good strategy is to have your doctor give you another (conventional) drug to try, and then, when it doesn’t work, re-apply for the authorization, citing that the latest treatment was also inneffective, and that you therefore “really do need Scopolamine (or Riluzole).”  Rinse and repeat.

So bad brain had the guts to knock on the door of my head once he (do you like how it is a he) heard repeated doctors offices tell me that I cannot even schedule an appointment for next week or next month if I do not have health insurance.  Not good.  Most of them said it rather nasty too.  Not helpful.  I get how perhaps it might be something they have to say more often than they like and it may be an uncomfortable thing…but trust me medical personnel, it is more uncomfortable for the one on the other end of the line.  So bad brain saw a crack in the door…and entered.  He pushed it wider when the only advice given was to go on government assistance.  Really?  Is that the nation we have created?  How very “I will not help you, but the government can.  And then later I will bash all those on government assistance.”  Not an option for me; however, I get how a lot of people end up there.

Next up, someone who thinks they know me, but has no idea that I am living a life where I can’t cover even my essentials said the following…’why are poor people so fat?’ Now had I not had the experience and all ready been back on my heels from my earlier rounds with the medical field I might have been able to address that statement thoroughly and thoughtfully.  Alas, that did not happen. This happened instead…1) I thought, wtf? 2) I thought does this person have no idea that while I am highly educated it has not prevented me from experiencing poverty ($9000 last year total income), 3) Does this person not see, I am 30lbs over weight? 4) Stood there with my mouth open.  Bad brain saw it and whoosh was in to set up camp.

That person doesn’t know that I am living in poverty, because they see what they want to see and do not bother to ask.  Asking may lead to having to act and let’s face it very few in our circles are really wanting to do more than talk to you or about you…note, talk “with” you was not included.

Back to the poor people comment.  Here are a few realities when you are living under an economically challenged time:

1) Cost per serving is more important than quality if you have a budget that is limited. By limited I mean on a good week $10.

2) Fresh things are a luxury because you can’t afford to let anything go to waste.

3) Walking around the block or doing things/playing outside are only doable if you live in a safe neighborhood.  And belonging to a gym is not an option.

4) Lots of medium and upper income people are fat as well.

Isn’t it funny how we perceive reality.  People have the propensity to believe they are living the one true reality, when in fact most of us, for the most part, limit what we want to see.  Sometimes this is out of laziness. Sometimes it is out of ignorance. Sometimes it is out of convenience.  Sometimes it is out of fear.  Sometimes it is out of necessity.

Anyway, I have to go now.  Have to try to get bad brain out of my head and back in his cage.

Vaguely menacing songs suffused with shades of grey and ashen soundscapes make up the general atmosphere of Her:Enemy  (see ‘Headlights and Dark Nights’  or’ Cold Night’) and the tunes shift rhythmically from fairly complex nuances through to more accessible and poppy melodies reminding me of early Jam (‘Bad Brain’).

Looking for all the world like a Southern ‘Hillbilly’ Good Ole’ Boy in his dungarees and long beard – just about to go off to make him some moonshine – lead vocalist and talented front-man guitarist Craigy Lee sweats and grinds over every song with passion and skill. At times high and sweet, the mood of his vocals can also reach grungy lows – in keeping with the growling bass and black chords of some of the darker numbers. Strong melodies are given illumination by striking percussion from Ash on drums and soulful bass guitar odysseys from Tom.

Slower songs are more edgy and leave a gritty deposit in your mind’s eye-  and although the Her:Enemy numbers are often split into distinct individual ‘movements’ they never lose sight of their narrative whole. Bursts of brilliance from all the band members are regular and welcome, brazen ever changing chords often give rise to dazzling drums and eloquent bass play.

Whip crackingly loud at times (enough to fragment those tender young ears) this band provides enough grizzling, sizzling energy to stir up your emotions. They soon got the young Staines Hobgoblin crowd to their feet and bopping n’ bouncing along to those hot punky beats.  Alas, the band are planning a shortish hiatus this Autumn (Craigy Lee is off to the land down under) and so there are now only a few dates left (in September) where you can catch this terrific trio.

© Neil_Mach
August 2010

Link:

http://www.myspace.com/herenemy

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วันนี้ทางร้าน INFRD ได้นำเอาเสื้อยืดเเละรองเท้า จากคอลเล็คชั่นปี 08′ อย่าง Miles Davis, Bad Brain, เเละ NBHD: Troops of Tomorrow ของทาง  Supreme เเบรนด์สตรีทระดับครูจาก NY มาวางจำหน่าย ลองเเวะเข้ามาเยี่ยมชมกันได้ครับ รับรองว่าสินค้ามีจำนวนจำกัดเเละไม่ซ้ำใครเเน่ๆ

Today, we have a drop of 08′s collections by Supreme NY from Miles Davis, Bad Brain and NBHD x Vans x Supreme. Please feels free to come by and have a look at these dope goods from Supreme.

Bad Brains and Scream at: VA’s Cedar Crest Country Club Ramp

What is it with Bands and skating…especially great bands and skating. I remember the only time the Barn was darkened was because the Raging Lamos needed the power cord for a show they played in The Kanes basement. I guess it takes a band of the Bad Brains caliber to stop the riding at CCCC..wish I went…anyone at this show wanna chime in? Oh yeah and whatever happened to that guy named Dave that was the drummer of Scream? One day he was hanging out drinking at The Black Cat next thing I know he left DC…I wonder if anything came his way…..

Jason

Wow, not too often there is talk around the office of a Beckett cover curse…but this last edition…what happened?