The Archives

Excerpts from Electric Degeneration, Degenerate Press' semi-weekly e-zine, free and ad-free. A full episode contains sections for music reviews, upcoming events, blasphemy, classifieds, and anything else we feel like saying. If you'd like to subscribe just contact us.

You can surf the entire archive.

If you can't find what you're looking for by surfing, use this handy search feature:


"Maybe something terrible happened to her. Maybe she got *married*."
Memphis Slim, from If You See Kay

Sorry for the delay in the broadcast. Your editor has been scrambling to meet the deadlines of various other publications, as well as hunting down new publications for his infernal efforts.
Saturday we headed to Dupree's to shoot some pool, and ogle the cute wait staff. As much as we like looking at those girls, they sure could use some help! Even with the slow St. Patty's day crowd we were often thirsty. Sunday we headed to 9 Lives for the wedding reception of Shane and Kalu. Many of you know Shane as the front man for Gargantua, or as a side man for Grand Moff Tarkin, or as a front man of the now defunct Super X-13, or as a side man from the long gone Something, or as an ink man for Black Cat Tattoo. Many of you probably know Kalu as "Holy shit, who's * that *?!?", the girl you ogled at countless shows and events, due to the fact that she's fuckin' STACKED, tall, naturally dark skin, tattooed, and dressed to kill. They've been an item for a couple of years. They recently ran off to Vegas to make it legal, then came home for their reception at 9 Lives. It was about what you'd expect - a room full of folks in all black, lots of leather, hard rock blaring, chicken wings - a typical rock and roll reception! Kalu floated about in a heavy black leather corset, low rider black leather pants, and a big smile. Shane looked much the same. Depressing.
No, it wasn't the all-black funeral-like setting that had me down. Weddings always make me cry. No, not tears of joy, but tears of loss. Just about every wedding in my life has resulted in the loss of a near and dear friend. As soon as the unholy bondage of matrimony is locked into place the prisoner is escorted away by their spouse, rarely to be seen again. And even when they do get the occasional furlough they're a changed person, their spirits broken from the rigors of structured life. In this case, I don't expect to see Shane or Kalu any less than I do now, nor do I expect they'll change much, but it does take a pretty fish out of the sea. I stopped by Wax N Facts and talked to a degenerate behind the counter and even she expressed dismay that Shane had pulled her out of the pond.
To make matters worse, it's that time again in my life - one of those summers when it seems like everyone I know is getting married. It started when I was 22 or so. That summer there was a wedding just about every weekend from May to July. Same boring ceremony. Same mediocre food at the reception. Same uncomfortable shoes. Same fake smile when I'm cornered by someone's mother/father/brother/sister/aunt/cousin/bridesmaid/etc. and asked how I know the deceased.
Uh... groom or bride.
Then the couple run off to their honeymoon never to be seen again, despite coming home a week later to the same town I live in.
But then a couple of years went by and it was the opposite effect - a divorce every month or so. I'd get a phone call from someone dying to get out, raise hell, see strippers, drink heavily, play games, * have fun *. It was a good couple of years, but it's time for seconds, or thirds, with my tribe so it's back to the chapel, back to the shoes, back to the weekends wondering where the hell everyone disappeared to. You can go on and on about how it's all part of growing old, growing up, settling down, blah blah blah, but don't be surprised if I don't have the attention span or the patience to sit through the whole sermon. Blink and I'm gone.
You can find me at the bar, at the show, at the strip club, at the river, in the streets, in the gutter, in the hotel. Sure, my significant other is by my side but I'm doing my best to keep that from slowing me down, drag her along, or be dragged along, and it's probably only a matter of time before I toss the televisions out the door of our apartment so we're FORCED to DO something with our weekends. If only the Soprano's third season weren't on...

We got more pictures up of local acts, including Immortal Lee County Killers, and Gettin Headstones in the Ear Plugs gallery:

Our preferred mode of communication with the masses:

(404) 794-1191

Degenerate Press
1191 Warfield St. NW
Atlanta, GA 30318

Take me to Degenerate Press' home page!
There's no place like home... no place like home...

All content on this site is owned by Degenerate Press and cannot be used without our permission. We have lawyers for friends with nothing better to do than cause trouble (no kidding), so play nice. Copyright © 2001, All Rights Reserved