Doom's DayIssue: Section:
Though I have always listened to all kinds of music, I spent my formative years playing in Hardcore and Punk bands exclusively. Growing up in late 1990's New York, it was difficult to find a thriving (teenage-friendly) music scene that was not Hip-Hop or Punk-related. There were no "brooklyn bands," and the Strokes weren't yet a blip on the radar. It wasn't until I left New York for college that I was truly able to expand my rock n' roll horizons. Up until then, my greatest musical success was a political Punk/Hardcore band, called "Thulsa Doom," in which I played guitar and wrote the majority of the music. Though we were only around for a couple years (1998-2001), the band ended up making a bit of a name for itself within the insular "Crust-Punk" scene. Despite this - when the band came to an end, so did my interest in Hardcore Punk, and I have since moved on to vastly different musical pastures.
In 2011, an email from Thulsa Doom's one-time drummer called my attention to the band's surprisingly extensive internet profile. Though the band existed in, arguably, a time before internet-dominated music, the web had given Thulsa Doom a whole new life. Our songs had become mp3s which had become youtube videos; our scanned artwork turned into T-shirts and patches. We even found a couple "Thulsa Doom" tattoos out there. We decided that it would be a good time (and fun as shit) to reunite for a "10th anniversary" tour.
We did it and it was fun as shit. In fact, so fun that it lasted well into 2012. Playing in primarily "Indie-Rock" bands for the last 10 years, I forgot how fun punk shows are. People love it and they will show you that they love it. They don't stand around with their arms crossed, bobbing their heads ever so slightly, peering judgmentally through their thick-rimmed specs - Punk audiences go fucking apeshit! They aren't ashamed to wear your t-shirt to your show. It's cool to do that. In fact, Thulsa Doom made more money off merch playing a squat in Baltimore than another band of mine did playing a support slot at Radio City Music Hall. That's what scenes are about.
After a Thulsa Doom show in Pittsburgh, a girl around my age approached me and exclaimed how "funny" she found it that the band had reunited.
"I don't know if you know this," she said, "but Thulsa Doom were considered, like, a little kid band... like a band for little kids. My boyfriend and I thought it was so funny that this band that we liked when we were, like, 18 is playing again."
"Well, the band broke-up when I was 17," I replied, "so hell yeah we were a 'little kid band.' We WERE little kids!"
That's when I realized, not only were we a "little kid band," but, in a way, the whole scene is for little kids. That's why kids like it when they're kids. Was I still a kid? Yes and no. But 10-years later, was I too far gone/jaded to channel the youthful exuberance that allowed me to write these songs? Sounds like a challenge.
So before I returned to the world of banal psychedelic indie rock power pop internet pitchfork nonsense, I decided to write and record "The Dick Crystal." It would be my last foray into the genre that I once loved so dearly.