It was a rough week. That shit sucked. Fuck. But, you know how with all bad must come good...or some shit. I found myself digging deep into the collection for solace....pulling out gems that would make everything feel alright. So I went for the Infest, Cro Mags, No Comment, NWA records... filtered through some Roky Erickson, Hawkwind and African Psych to calm the frying nerves. In doing so I remembered the ultimate nihilist garage band, the Reatards. Now that that the punk elite have scoffed at Jay Reatard's 'selling out', he's the bloated fat rockstar creep we all loathe. Wait a minute. Didn't Jay himself always profess to the rock n roll ideal?. Outta My Mind? the dude was fucked at 17. What's more punk than recording hundreds of tracks of genius spite and bile in your bedroom then some record twerp is gonna get you high and laid and fucking paid to release them. Hats off Jay...punk as fuck. But the truth remains.... the Reatards were waaaaaay more punk than he is now......dude was 17 and clearing rooms full of seasoned punks with chair legs and bloody broken bottles. The real deal.....
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