#2002 Dead Boys - Young, Loud and Snotty

Over the holidays I watched this disappointingly limpdicked movie about CBGB with my parents* (rip Alan Rickman too now, man), but upsides included:
 - I totally thought Television came later. I guess I should stop calling them post-punk.
 - I gotta stop calling //anyone// "post-punk", I swing that thing around and slap everybody with it. While we're making new years resolutions, I gotta cut down on "Lynchian"**. Douche.
 - I ran into one band I'd never heard, Hilly's own little Dead Boys

This here, their one album, it hits a real sweet spot. Sloppy, shrieking and overblown, a mass of arms swinging in one direction with drunk fixation. But hook'ed. Accidental little startstops, sweeps, stutters, crashes of guitar that land on their feet unlikely, like you had a thousand Dead Boys at two thousand guitars and waited three thousand years for 11 songs to fall out. Somehow they did with only 5 dead boys and a handful of days. Lucky.

The mix is all over the place, the production just stitching the scraps together and letting the fraying fly, it's a fascinating trainwreck, an underappreciated punk nugget 4/5

* props to mom and pop though, pretty hip holiday movie choice!
** unlikely