The Single Life – 7” of Fun - San Diego Scene Circa ’89-’90

In a lot of ways, I look at my youth . . . my days in high school, that is, as a very blessed time. Sure, I went through my various growing pains like any adolescent, but I was fortunate to have a soundtrack to accompany me through some of those tougher times. I was even more fortunate to have that soundtrack come from a home grown place. In the late 80’s/early 90’s, sleepy coast town San Diego was home to a vibrant, eclectic, and passionate group of musicians. It was a time when genre borders were crossed with nary a wandering eye or a second glance. The hardcore kids hung out and poked fun at the metalheads, the metalheads flipped the tables and did the same, the alternative, weird punk guys dropped their acid in the middle of it all, and it was all good. There was a form of camaraderie. Disagreements happened and fists were thrown, but generally speaking, times were good and the musical output from the locals was invigorating, at times, even brilliant. So, I bring to you five singles that made their way through the San Diego scene between 1989 and 1990, and hope to shine a little light on the sounds that had a profound impact on my being.

Fishwife – S/T

Fishwife were, jeez . . . I don’t really know how to describe these guys other than amazing. The music was generally all over the place, bouncing from dissonant noise rock through the realms of alternative rock and into the bombastic lands of muscle flexing metal. This 4-song 7” released through Nemesis Records captures the band weaving its way through all of these genres without sounding unfocused or scattered. Kicking off with one of my all-time favorite tracks, “Chad” is a tune that has always and will forever creep me out a little, all the while getting me to smile as if I’m hiding some personal joke from the rest of the world. Namely, it’s the vocal performance from Ryan Fox that triggers the emotional reaction. Initially, the vocals burst from the speakers as if from deep, dark, psychotically demonic place, completely freaking the listener into thinking that something is wrong with their turntable, but then progressing into a smoother, more narrative croon. Every time I hear this song, I immediately remember the first time I saw this band live and Fox, in a very casual manner, leaped into the air . . . easily four, five feet off the ground . . . shift his body to be completely horizontal and land on the stage with a thundering THUD! Dude never braced himself for impact. Just . . . THUD! By the next line of the song, he was up in front of the mic again and spewing some venomous line of madman poetry as if nothing happened.

Going back now and listening to this stuff, the music is a hundred times cooler than I ever remembered it. I’ll go as far as saying that these guys were ahead of their time. The way that guitarist Gar Wood effortlessly shifts from a heavily distorted tone to clean tone, making those clean tones sound dangerous and then infusing strings of beautiful melody through the ugly portions of the songs . . . listen to “Counter Culture” to hear what I’m raving about. Such a fucking talent! “Blues in b” is the song that calls to my inner (and outer) metal-ness. Heavy guitar riffing that comes straight out of any early thrash bands repertoire and the tongue-in-cheek lyrics have me grinning ear to ear. Probably written more as a joke than anything else, the song still resonates with me in the sense that I don’t take too much too seriously. It’s a fun tune and one that probably got more than a handful of drunken fans throwing their horns in the air. This particular pressing that I have is on blue marble vinyl. Find it. Buy it. Love it.


Pitchfork – Saturn Outhouse

Running in closer circles with the Fishwife pack than many of the others, the post-hardcore sounds of Pitchfork were probably one of the more unique and fresh voices in the San Diego scene from 1986 - 1990. This 3-song disc, also released through Nemesis Records in 1989, was my leaping off point with this particular band. “Thin Ice” is a hopped up, punk-y tune that draws no comparisons to my mind . . . eh, maybe Sonic Youth, but ever so slightly. The guitar lines are understated and filled with a subtle complexity, the rhythm section double times it through the song, and the vocals have a satin-y smoothness to them. What I dig about this track, and what makes it most interesting is how the band break out of the high speed punked out strains and slow the riffs down, making the song a lot more grinding and ominous . . . essentially giving the song deeper dimensions. “Goat” is one of those songs that I always think about when I hear the name Pitchfork. The song is a slower tune than its predecessor and the dynamics that the band throw into it gives it that quality that compels the listener to go back and repeatedly listen to it.

 Finally, the B-side “Sinking” wraps elements of the grunge sound that, in 1989 was yet to spew it’s goo across our faces, and the more subdued sounds of the alternative rock movement. Of special note on this track, besides the dynamic performances of all the members, is the guitar work of John Reis. Check out the explosive emotion that he pumps out through his rig! If the name of John Reis sounds familiar, you may know it from his work with San Diego icons, Rocket From The Crypt and Drive Like Jehu . . . both projects which came along after his days with Pitchfork. And also, Pitchfork singer Rick Froberg would later join Reis in the formation of Drive By Jehu. But back to “Sinking,” this is a song that has so much movement, so much sexy sonic tonic running through it that there’s no way to write about it to get you to actually feel what’s going on . . . you have to listen to it to feel it. The emotions run deep, the passion that these guys put into this particular performance is mind numbing, and it’s reason number one to have a copy of this disc. Of further note, as of 2007, John Reis has been working with Gar Wood (Fishwife, Hot Snakes) on a new project. See? I told you these circles ran tight together.


Saturn Outhouse was re-issued on CD (tacked onto the re-issue of Pitchfork’s only LP, Eucalyptus) in 2003.

Forced Down – S/T

Man . . . this one takes me back. I don’t think there was one 7” from the San Diego scene between 1989 and 1990 that had as profound an impact on me as Forced Down’s self titled 4-song single. This band may have been considered hardcore, or post-hardcore, or even progressive hardcore, it really doesn’t matter, this 7” came out and all the hardcore kids had to take a step back with mouths agape. Led by guitarist Mike Downey (singer for local S.D. hardcore band Amenity . . . more on them down the road) and vocalist Robb Bass, Forced Down unleashed a sonic beat down on inequality, social injustice, and societal oppression. Released through Vinyl Communications and Down Side Records, this 7” kicks off with “Nothing,” a song rife with angst and powerful in message. Opening with the interstellar drum work of Joey Piro (Pitchfork . . . again, tight circles) and then dropping down to a classic hardcore beat, the song assails the listener with a wall of distorted guitars and the vocal lines that have engrained themselves into my daily lexicon. When I get frustrated with the dealings of the day, I often belt out lines from this song . . . “I WANT TO WALK! TO FEEL MYSELF AGAIN! GET OUT OF MY WAY, SO I CAN LIVE FREE!” Get the disc . . . you’ll see where I’m coming from.

“Forced Down” opens the second side with waves of feedback and interspersed drum fills and bass notes before the song takes its steady strides. Again, this is one of those songs that’s stuck with me since the song was making daily spins during my youth. As soon as I placed the needle on the record, all of the memories came flooding back and I was flailing around the office reciting the lyrics like I’d had just listened to the song the day before.  This track showed a different side to the hardcore mentality at the time. It was much more musical and ambitious than a lot of the stuff that was floating around, it was slower and more thought out, but it wasn’t any less emotional. There’s a great inherent grove to this song, and the band isn’t afraid to ride it out, speed it up, slow it down, and experiment with it.  Pressed on a translucent pale green vinyl, this disc is a must for anybody who likes their hardcore Fugazi style.


Helicopter – S/T

Following the Vinyl Communications and Down Side Records stream of thought, we have Helicopter’s only known release. At least, the only recorded material that I’ve ever been able to get my hands on. This 2-song single epitomizes that mindset of crossing musical boundaries and still fitting in. Helicopter was a progressive, jazz-rock trio that showed immense potential and were beyond talented. Stupidly talented. The A side, or in this case, the Down Side, features “Chameleon,” a song that’s highlighted by some high quality and bitchin’ bass work over an understated, chorus laden guitar line. The band then incorporates a great melodic chorus, filled with so much emotion that I inevitably fall back in my chair and contemplate all things good and bad, get a little sad, pick myself up by the boot straps and carry on livin’ again. The song reminds me of The Police, in sound, not so much stylistically, though . . . there is that Police-type jazz-rock thing going on. Let’s put it this way, it’s not a comparison that comes to mind immediately, but more of one that has to be thought about.

“Enow Dictum” makes up the B-side and we get to see a slightly different wrinkle in the bands musical fabric. While “Chameleon” has a sweeter feel to it, “Enow Dictum” has a darker quality . . . a little menace to it. The groove has a bit of reggae flavor and the chorused out guitars apply minimalist textures to the canvas of sound. The dynamic flourishes in this song are awesome . . . the fluttering bass lines acting like a butterfly making its way through my garden, the impassioned vocal attack, the dramatic pauses that help build the tension . . . the whole song comes together perfectly. The only thing lacking on this record is the production value. I’d love to hear this thing re-mixed and re-mastered, but sadly, I don’t think that will ever happen. From my understanding, the bassist passed away due to some illness shortly after the recording of this single. This disc was also pressed on that Down Side Records translucent pale green vinyl, if you can find this gem, do yourself a favor and pick it up.


Sub Society – Ice Man

Finally, and maybe the band most responsible for me getting involved in the San Diego scene is Sub Society. In 1990, they dropped their 4-song 7” Ice Man onto the masses and forever immortalized the songs that catered to my less hardcore, less metal side. These guys played a punk style like that of The Descendents and All, using a ton of melody and lyrical sentiment to power their songs into the hearts of their fans. The first thing that comes to mind on this record is how well the levels are mixed. Every instrument has power to it, but primarily the drums of Didier Suarez are sharp, especially the snare. “Daily Seconds” and “At Last” make up the A-side, both songs flat out rock, but are laced with just enough sugary pop goodness that they never offend the common sensibilities. Stimy’s vocals perfectly convey the emotions of the lyrics, strong and powerful, but just flawed enough to show his vulnerability . . . his human side. Fuck . . . I miss these guys.

The B-side is made up of “Everyday” and “A Lot Less.” “Everyday” opens with a great guitar riff from Chris Valle-Staples, and features some outstanding, out-of-the-box bass work from Joe Garcia. The song weaves and winds, ebbs and flows, constantly shifting energy from front to back, and always rockin’! “A Lot Less” is a song that very easily could have been top whatever due to its uber-catchiness, and truth be told, I think this song has only gotten better over time. It’s a timeless love song steeped in simple sentimentality and played over an instantly memorable melody. The band does a great job of working little dynamic shifts throughout the track, which helps to keep it from being a cliché. No . . . seriously, I fucking miss these guys! I hear this song can’t help but reminisce on those late night’s watching these guys kick out the jams and then chilling at a Roberto’s Taco Shop in the dead of night.


Guys . . . thanks for the memories.

Pope