I don't play it often, but every time I hear Back from Samoa by the Angry Samoans, it makes me feel like an angry, greasy, dirty, sexually frustrated, pimple-faced kid.
Yes, that's a good thing. Since the old effing librarian is on that slippery slope to the great beyond (or as you atheists believe, to nothing), any youthful memories are good, regardless of any embarrassment. "Hey, man, remember that time you were so wasted, you like, went number two in your pants?" Ah, yes. For the days when I could go number two, unaided.
Punk rock. Those were the good old days when misery fueled a minor musical renaissance. Frustration with the leadership of Presidents Ford, Carter and Reagan helped to produce a new wave of style, much of it vulgar and bloody. What change in music could we expect from today's feelings of hopelessness and rage?
Here is a link to You Stupid Jerk; 25 seconds a absolute genius. Turn it up. But use headphones; you're in a library, for pete's sake.
