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:


There's an article on reviewing a Democratic Party rally at
which many of the candidates spoke out against the current
administration and actually showed some guts. I still don't think
anything short of a major scandal can oust Dubya Inc. out of the CEO
position, but it's a nice change of sound, if not action, from the
party just left of the far right.

Saturday we decided that since it was a rainy day and Kingsized
doesn't carry the same weight as Mudcat at Northside Tavern, we'd
give the now-popular dive a try and see if we could get in the door.
Our theories were proven to be correct - not only could we get in the
door, we were even able to get seats up front.
Mike had a new face or two in the band since last I saw them. A new
guy, Jason somebody, played trumpet for the first time for the first
half of their set, and a new guitarist did quiet, skillful work in
the back.
A few familiar faces were in the crowd, Star Bar regulars and such,
as we settled in with a couple of drinks. Mike and the guys were
obviously relaxed and enjoying themselves, goofing around and trying
songs they didn't necessarily know, but with musicians as talented
and traveled as these guys it's tough to tell. There's almost never a
mistake and Mike's clear, booming voice and wicked smile are more
than enough to make you forget any slip.
But there were countless times SW and myself had to look away, not
from the band but the poor, rhythmically-challenged white boys
dragged onto the dance floor by their dates. I don't mind watching an
unskilled dancer lose himself in the moment, but it's a painful sight
to witness a guy who can't dance, knows it and feels bad about it,
but feels that he must to impress his date. The false "hey, this is
fun, really" smile, moments where he tries swing or two step or some
other traditional step that can't possibly work with the music being
played, falling apart to revert to shaking his hips but unsure of
what to do with his arms, none of it to the beat, and should he pick
his feet up or not? Painful!!
Kingsized tossed in a few new numbers, some welcome freshness for
those of us who've seen them often enough to know the set list a bit
too well, even straying into country and/or western for a few fun
numbers. A fun show and I'd definitely see them at Northside again,
if they don't earn the sardine can conditions Mudcat and others have

In addition to the rooster farm, dog kennel, and race car repair yard
the redneck neighbors have been running, lately they've also taken on
daycare. One of the other neighbors, degenerate JM, thinks one of the
redneck neighbors' relatives got put in the pokey or something so the
kids are here for the summer or longer depending on time off for good
These kids are typical 9 - 13 year old hooligans who have little supervision.
They stay out until 3 AM, wandering the streets, jumping on the
squeaky trampoline, chatting loudly, sometimes yelling charming
phrases such as "Hey, suck my cock."
You're probably saying to yourself "That's just Fred being his usual
curmudgeon self!" But even neighbor degenerate JDP called the cops
(with no results, of course) when the kids added fireworks to their
after-midnight weeknight wanderings. It's beginning to feel like the
Hatfields vs. the McCoys, right on the edge of downtown Atlanta,
particularly today when they're in the yard launching fireworks at
random with the roosters are crowing in between explosions.
It's ironic that I moved out of my small hometown to get away from
these type of people, only to find myself closer to them than ever
before. Years from now, when the rage has faded, I might even be able
to laugh, if I'm not sitting in a cell for getting out the shootin'
Anyone know if there's a curfew for kids in Atlanta?

Contact Degenerate Press

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 © 2003, All Rights Reserved