Wastey Face

Tropics Lounge and Wastey Face:



REVIEW WRITTEN BY MISTA SLUTZ.

at the risk of sounding like my old man, they don't make 'em like the used to. A lot of bands I see these days are a mix of emo-screamcore and too much eye liner. No offense to anyone who's into that, but I hate that shit. I need my music to have balls. Balls like Ron Jeremy's got balls. Straight up big honkin' balls to the wall fuck your school I hate you all but let's party while we're at it punk rock. Old school skate punk is what I'm saying.



When I was 17 I lived in Austin, Texas, the live music capitol of the world. Great fuckin' city, great fuckin' people. I went to go see local legends The Bulemics one night. My friend Jesse and I were shit broke, having spend the last of our money on 40s which we poured into a Taco Bell cup. Classy I know. We wandered drunkenly around 6th Street until we got to Flamingo Cantina. How a goddamn punk show got booked at a raggae club I'll never know. The drummer for the Dead End Cruisers met us outside and got us in for free, nice cuz we didn't have shit for cash. Anyway, The Bulemics went on first and played the most punk show I've ever seen. Their lead singer Gerry Atric cut his forehead on the second song. I'm not sure how he managed to do that, but he was bleeding all over the place. He stumbled around stage occasionally singing the rest of the songs. The band never missed a beat. Afterwards I heard he had to get 14 stitches on his forehead. GREAT fucking show.



So last night I go out with Rick and Jon to the Tropics Lounge and wouldn't you just know it, right about when I'm about to give up on ever hearing good fucking punk rock again Wastey Face goes on. They played old school skate punk like it hasn't been played since '97. Not only that, their singer has the sweetest porn star mustache I've ever seen and one of their guitarists looks like a goddamn hippy. I was standing at the back of the bar when they went on and as soon as I heard them I skanked my way to the front of the stage. I haven't seen a band with that much energy in a long time. I was moshing at the front of the stage until one of the bouncers told me to stop. What the fuck? I'm just getting off to one of the best bands I've heard in years! Songs were quick and to the point, no bullshit. Breakdowns were fucking heavy. I had visions of going backward through the pit fucking up unsuspecting youngsters. Good shit. Rick Murder scored a CD. I'll be at their next show fo sho.



Anyway, after Wastey Face got off stage I went back to the bar and the bartender with the big ass plastic boobs says, "Michael, I thought we were gonna be friends." I told her a) don't ever call me Michael that's an angel's name and I ain't no angel and b) WTF? Turns out she's the owner of the bar and she didn't like me moshing next to the pool table and floor monitors. Whatever. I told her I haven't heard good old school skate punk like that in years and couldn't help myself. She offered to buy my next beer and call it even. I asked if she was hitting on me. She gave me a look that said you're not even in my league. And I'm not. But shit I got a free beer out of it. Can't argue with that. And the club is freakin' sweet. In the middle of nowhere, but freakin' sweet. I got good vibes from the place.



The Belts are playing there June 27th and we're gonna tear the place up. Bring your dancing shoes cuz it's gonna be a mosh pit like you've never seen before. I'll see you there.



Peace, love, and tacos,



-Mista Slutz



CHALE BROWN



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