Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Spirit of Crack Truth

Found him yelling at the cars parked outside of Tommy Burger in Woodland Hills, took him to the public access station, greased some palms with my usual gift bags of ground up pills that look vaguely like cocaine, and a star was born! Now we're on the road sleeping in the hallways of motels across America, chasing the flea-bitten American dream.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

MGMT Album Leaked.....Please Flush!



http://www.whoismgmt.com/

Whole album is streamed

AND IT BLOWS HIPSTER DICK (unwashed, cheesy with a strong brine taste)



"MGMT is ___________."

Chapter 34: Cover Art aka Page of Scribbled Shit n' Piss

Gather around young children, let Uncle Spike tell you about cover art. Cover Art can make or break you, and since your wayward junkie uncle has the attention span of a Tenderloin Hooker looking for a good time...here is the long and short of it...see kids that's a cliche but we'll save that for our "I'm a victimized gold card yuppie urban poet and I play no instruments" workshop.

Ok, hipster dipshit, I'm going to take two bands with the same name and point out the do's and don'ts.

Here is an example of shitty boner curdling artwork.



Lets see, a band who hails by Hammerhead because what is more extreme than a stupid re-tard looking shark that has a habit of being bludgeoned to death by happy dolphins. Ok, I see a dune buggy...because we can't exclude the douchebag motorcross market...I see a football helmet...because if there's one sport a band from England loves it is American Football. Fucking stupid but smart since surburban droids from Detroit are the only ones buying this, Faygo, and the Insane Clown Posse box set. Lastly, looking at this manly artwork, I've inferred that the title of the album should read, "Will To Survive...Violent Crenshaw Buttstabbing". Listen metaldicks, if you're going to be a band obsessed with death and war and drop tuning your instruments...I'm going to show you how its done.

If you're going to be metal then you better do it right asshole. Here is an example....



1. Name your band "Fucking" and your first album better be titled "Metal". Consider yourself a poser.

Moving on.....


Here is an example of good or indifferent artwork. Same name, different band. American, Fuck yeah!



Kids, notice the brain puzzling artwork on this EP. The redheaded stepchild with the old timey vacuum bulbs and B movie font makes you think...its a surf band...its a, its a garage band...its Perry Cuomo's Bastard Child...hmm, what the fuck is this band. Answer, hand over $55.99 to some anglophile on ebay and you'll find out its the best thing you've never heard. The artwork kinda sucks but who cares, at least it doesn't remind you of an ill-fated shower party.


Want some musics?
Lucid Media has a few albums up by this band. Noise Rock!
Hammerhead - Into the Vortex Lp
Hammerhead - Duh, The Big City Lp

Chapter 11: Take it on the Fuckin' Road, On Your Own Dime

Tina & the Piss Artists Tour Van for Sale.
$600 & a needle of skag or obo + my 50% Cut (Finder's Fee)...I'm jones'n.



CarFax Report:
1969 Shit Van w/ Convert LX Shell - Vin: 27OD77RCK69MNNN
  • Does Not Qualify for CARFAX Buyback Guarantee
  • Twenty Seven-owner vehicle
  • Collision Repair Facility record indicating multiple car/engine fires
  • Salvage and rebuilt, no titles issued, illegal in Florida
  • No Muffler
  • Certified Mobile Flop House
  • Deluxe Model, comes with piss washing hobo
  • Warranty voided
  • Sophomore Slump Package Available
  • FEMA Flood advisory
  • Manufacturer recall
  • One Large Midnight Accident in Dörarp, Sweden.
  • Propensity to kill the most talented musician in your band: i.e. your bassist
  • Warning: Modified Dodge Ram Van w/ Camper





Thinking of taking your shitty no-talent "Indie/Folk/Americana" clone band out on tour? Well, listen up wastoids, I got a cherry money pit up for grabs. I can't tell you how many tours, blowjobs, botched felchjobs, and colostomy bags this money sucker has seen. Oh wait, almost forgot the biggest selling point. Back in the early 80's, when I was the thrash/speed slop-styled guitarist for Nutwrench..ever heard of them...didn't think so poser, I hid this major payload, a sweet deal I worked out with a Columbian national and a three armed nitro fueled porno store janitor named Lenny in Wabash, in the back camper. Anyway, here's the rub, I was kicked out of the band at a gas station in Tacoma. So, I already ransacked the van yesterday and shit, I couldn't find it. If you can its yours.

Ooooooohooooooohoooo, you want to tour Europe, the Scandinavian terrain? Well, shit I almost forgot to tell you, this oil burner has been there done that! Well, Ol Jimmy Z himself leased this beaut - for some reds and a little "slap n' tickle" from then owner Tina - for a European tour for this mouth breathing band...hmmm, escapes me now. But they had spunk....and there's probably still some stuck to the interior. Shit, by now they probably dropped the whole "power metal" gig and are making double bass pedal tinged MOR shit. Caveat - make sure your bass player makes separate travel arrangements....some bands have found this out the hard way...cough Metallica cough.

Look shithead, you have to put the horse before the cart. Sure, we'd all like to get our hands on a "Magical Defibrillator" and revive our own personal comatose Led Zeppelin bassist so that we can then proceed to overcharge our numb robotic sleep-drooling stupid fan bases exorbitant ticket prices at venues known for their shitty house sound. Hey, when that happens, you come back to old Spike and I'll point you in the direction a no talent gold diggin' bird of a punk rocker you can steal away from a middle class alcoholic east bay teenie boppin' axe legend. You and me both buddy...anyway, save yourself some heartache! Before we tour the Eastern Block, a place known for murderous border guards and some rippin' biscuit, lets just concentrate on gettin' your goldbrickin' ass to Bakersfield so you can play and I can get my head "cleaned" and my 79% cut.


If interested, meet me here at Tio Snoopy Jr's Taco Hut:



You give me the money and I'll take you over to the Van and hotwire it for you...I seemed to have misplaced the keys. Wear black!

If you show up and don't have the cash or the score...you end up here:


Saturday, March 20, 2010

A Wino Drummer That Hates Scott Weiland

I was in El Monte, about to dig through the garbage behind Rite-Aid for random pills to chew on, but someone beat me to it: fucking Matt Sorum. My arch nemesis, my foil, the sugar pill dud on my ecstasy mountain, the coldsore you got at the Pico Rivera sports arena that one time back in '95, the fucker who tried to touch my charlie stash.

But I guess he was too fucked up on dumpster vitamins because when I told him to get fucked, he asked if he knew me from somewhere. When I told him how we used to hang out in my Uncle Touchy's naked puzzle basement, he just said, "Was I high? Yeah, I was high." Then he swallowed a handful of reds, started rolling on the floor screaming the lyrics to "November Rain," and touching himself.

Hosing him down with mace didn't seem to help.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Spike's Guide to Making Facebook Your Bitch

When you try to befriend fucksters from La Jolla on Facebook, this is your reward:

Private message from
Heidi Redman
------------
r u kidding. did you see Psalms 41 on my profile page? I hang out with church folks and people that love God and never ever do drugs. I think you might get more friends if you changed your image away from the drugged out loser from the 80's. just a suggestion.

Reply:
1) I'm God.
2) Jesus is my bitch.
3) Try some heroin.

This is my gospel.
- Spike Anderson Doesn't Give a Fuck

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Coke Nap Records Release - Give us your money!

"Quit your yammerin' you fucks, Spikes about to open his trench coat of goods and shower some sweet rain over your submissive cherry bottom! Last night, while I was dangling my good leg over the Santa Monica Pier after another fight with South Bay Mud, I said to myself, "Spike, LA needs an enema...a rock and roll filled colonic"! So Spike knew exactly where to find some talent on the quick, good ole 6th and Spring. Apparently, I showed up 5 minutes after 8 and the pigs had already shut my talent show down. So I did the next best thing, I knocked on some tents at 1st and Main and rustled out 3 fuckers assbumping gold flake and a part-time PowerDom out of the LAXXpress..."

Coke Nap Records Presents

Three Douches / Captain Jizzbeard Split EP




Side A - Three Douches
1. "Spike Anderson's Needle Supply"
2. "Docks After Dark"
3. "Smells like Pepperdine Dropouts"



Side B - Captain Jizzbeard
1. "Snuff Films & Wine Coolers"
2. "Sex President"


....But Spike, "where can I buy the slab, where can I score something that looks white..." Same place as always, out of some guys van in the Smell parking lot (usually guarded by a vagrant) or a flop house near you. Now fuck off Ne'er do Wells

Sunday, March 7, 2010

So you're lookin' for some mp3s, eh?

here's the link fuckos

..because if there's anything Spike Anderson hates more than an american indian its the fucking government!!1

Do it Yourself...On Your Own Dime.

It's not all candy canes and coke naps, kids. Sometimes you gotta make the hard decisions. Like when your sister gets pregnant at bible camp, so you have to hire a couple of skinheads to kick her in the stomach. Then you come to and it turns out that it wasn't your sister at all, you never had a sister. So now you're living in a tent downtown and trying to avoid the skinheads who are looking for the $50 worth of Tijuana Tarragon you promised them. Of all the fucking times to have an acid flashback...

What was I talking about?? Oh yeah, Steve Albini. He's right about absolutely everything, ever. Major label record companies? Suck. Digital recording? Fucking sucks. Radio? You better believe that sucks! Think you want to have a career as a professional rock musician? Well Uncle Steve sez NO. You gotta make lo-fi records of wiping your ass with your guitar for two guys in the basement of a pizzaria in Queens for the rest of your life to be a real artist. So says the genius behind Rapeman.

Here's some numbers for you soft-brained lemmings to crunch:

So you've got a band that just got signed to a major label and the record company gives them a $10,000 advance. Great! But not so fast there, Grim Rail Rukk. You're going to have to make a record for them eventually. Let's say $3,000 to get the Lloyd London special: hire some guy in Sherman Oaks who has a room full of nice looking analog equipment but just runs everything from a $79 4-track mixer into a shitty laptop with ProTools on it. Anyway, now you've got to tour to support the album so you need to hire a bus. $2,000. Parking fees, fuzzy dice, gas, and hospital bills from that time your bass player tried to crush up and snort a Mento. $5,000. But wait, you've got to eat something to remain conscious. $1,000 for vegan soy muffins and Pabst Blue Ribbon (for street cred). Shit, you need to wear some clothes or you'll get arrested! $1,000 each to buy a new Abercrombie sweater vest and "junkie fit" skinny polo pants. Also, you don't have any fans and everyone hates you so you need to hire some hookers to come to all your shows so you can build a "buzz". $4,000. Finally, your daily drug supply is going to cost you at least $140,000. Fuck, now you're $245,000 in the hole and trying to auction off your internal organs on eBay to shifty Asian buyers. Great job, scumfuck.

Now, I've always been all about doing it yourself. I wrote the book on it. LITERALLY. It's called "Booking that World Tour...On Your Own Dime!" It's printed on 100% recycled shitty zines and it's available for $89.99 from the trunk of the abandoned car I'm living out of this week. My plan calls for the swiping of your parents' credit cards, but Albini's plan is even simpler: take a shit-ton of drugs, buy some coke-bottle glasses, start a band called Big Black, and spend the rest of your natural life fiddling with sliders so that the bassist from Ass Hurt can be heard in the mix. Then after you've managed to never actually have any success at all whatsoever in the music industry, you can dole out advice to up and coming bands to "do it yerself, dickless" because you've been there....except that you haven't.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Get Exotic & Bang The Cashier at Whole Foods



A story old as time. A few douchebags invade a newly gentrified neighborhood and use daddy's mastercard to be one with the earth, be one with humanity, bang some chicks, scrape off the herpes, and "slum" it with 100% post recycled stock boys from Whole Foods. "Try the petrified rainforest baby-jerky...its fair-trade!". Fuck you spunkbag, I'll stick to my cough syrup, caffeine pills, and gutter water.

Although, you have to admit a red head making an instructional video about how to brag about, make, and drink a native Argentinian drink is rather funny... or in hipsterfuck-speak "ironic". Although, not as ironic as you might think...the Argentinian government, in addition to giving "free" midnight rides into the sunset to its own citizens, have a long standing tradition of granting amnesty to Nazi's.

And now you've found something you can lord over your stupid trend-chasing, stimulant abusing, pasty vampire fuckbuddies. The Spikester was especially taken by this ginger's disillusionment of his small circle-jerk of friends' lack of knowledge about this worldly epicurean delight. Hey jizzcrust, I bet the short order cook making your chic vegan burrito at Vegan Express drinks it. Shit, even the guy who chases me off the YMCA lawn with a leaf blower drinks it....I mean for fucks sake, theres some pasty hipsterfuck band from Boston named after Yerba Mate. And they suck.....

The Spike Anderson T-shirt

The Spike Anderson T-shirt
click image to email us with your shirt size and color for a $20 shirt