Wasteland Weekend and the End of the World!

Last year, the band went out into the desert for a few days and came back completely changed. We had the time of our lives and met some of the greatest people and made friends to last a lifetime. We went to Wasteland Weekend in California City. It's a 4-day long Post Apocalyptic party in the desert that's completely themed and full of awesome.

There was a bunch of flaming sword fights, music that went into all hours of the night, a mini Thunderdome (I called it the Rumble Bubble), Jugger matches (Think... football/soccer/rugby played with a dog skull), a post apocalyptic sermon, an "Atomic Cafe" replica from the 3rd Mad Max film that was stocked to the sky with booze and so much more that I can't remember... probably due to the Atomic Cafe.

Anyways, moving on! We are proud to announce that we will be performing this year! If you want to purchase tickets to Wasteland Weekend to see us (and all the other cool shit going on that you really don't want to miss...) then head on over to www.wastelandweekend.com - ticket sales go up as the event gets closer! Check out the website for more information and to purchase tickets or volunteer if you're too cheap! See you in the Wastelands!

Speaking of post-apocalyptic...

With all the hoopla surrounding the whole "End of the World!" thing, we decided to hop on the band-wagon and bring you something TRULY post-apocalyptic.


We are proud to announce that we are halfway through the writing process of a new, full-length album from your favorite post-apocarock band!

Titles are tentative right now, but we are going to tell you a great story about a world that has moved on, a world that has torn itself in two and the story behind the band, the Crimson King and the False Prophet.

Divided into four cycles, the story will arc across the following segments:

Cycle I - Pestilence - The Birth of Captain Tripps
Cycle II - The Requiem - The Death of the American Dream
Cycle III - The Apostate - The Loss of Faith
Cycle IV - Redemption - The Rise of a New Nation

Each segment will tie in together and will bring to fruition the story behind "The Break Out EP" and the new album. From the beginning of the end, to the rise of a new nation. Get ready! The AHTCK has begun and it's ready to come full circle to smack you in the face, take your pants and run away giggling like a little girl! Keep an eye on the sky and ears on the radio - AHTCK Squad Transmission is incoming...

Breaking News!

Comminication devices have finally reached a strong enough signal to send out this emergency AHTCK Squad update;

A couple of weeks ago, we were on our weekly trip to the city to collect supplies and replenish our non-radiated water. Shortly after our supply run had begun, we were unfortunately attacked by zombies. Though we are all excellent zombie fighters, they did take us by surprise. They came out of nowhere and immediately began to rock our heavily armored vehicle as we barrelled down the dirt roads towards the city. Soon enough, they had managed to drive us off the road where the vehicle flipped and we all lost conciuosness.

Upon waking up, our vehicle was gone, our weapons delpleated and hundreds, if not, THOUSANDS of re-dead zombies were sprawled all around us. On my forhead, a hand written note;

Tim,
Thanks for everything. I've had a lot of fun and I'll never forget the times we had. Unfortunately I need to return to my home planet of TedNugentia X. Cats are going crazy. Might have some kind of fever. I'll stay in touch. Love, Cody

Okay but honestly, Cody has decieded to go his own way - there are no hard feelings here and we all wish the best to Cody in all of his future endevours. Thanks so much for being part of the first official completed leg of AHTCK - You helped shape this band into the awesome hard rock power house that it has become. Thanks for all the laughs and all the great memories. Don't catch that cat scratch fever on TedNugentia X.

Larry Katz - Our Drummer

Now... before I dive headfirst into this next post, I need to first outline something very important for you. We love our drummer, Larry. Very much so. In a distant, hands-off sort of way. Therefore, this post is dedicated to him and his awesomeness.

*ahem*

I hate Larry. He drives me insane when it comes to super important things. I can't even begin to guess the number of emails, text messages and important questions that have been directed to him that go unanswered. What happens when you corner him and encourage him to play along with everyone else? He usually makes a joke about your sexual preference, length of your hair and/or your reproductive organs and their various locations around your body.

Uhhh....



An example of a conversation...
Me: Larry, did you see that final artwork I sent you for that really neat thing we are making?
Larry: Why are you always yelling at me? You must have a vagina.
Me: No, I just need to make sure you're okay with it... I'd hate to print this and have you hate it.
Larry: Yeah, yeah, boobs boobs boobs, you love men.

This is a daily conversation that goes on with this guy. No, really - I can't even begin to make this stuff up. I'm pretty sure he's fucking insane. Once in a while, I'll get a phone call from him, usually between 10:30pm and 12:30am, where he almost has a lucid moment where he stops calling me a homosexual and has important things to tell me. It's almost like there is a daily 2 hour window where Larry's little hamster in his brain stops playing videogames and watching porn to run in the wheel for a little bit.

Shut up, Tim. I'm BUSY!

We've found measures to counteract his actions and words, some to no avail and some have been successful. For example, when we send emails, we can no longer write big, huge wall-of-text emails. We've found out that Larry is either lazy or has the attention span (and possibly reading level) of a 2nd grader. The following email, though edited down, is an actual email sent to the band from me.

From Tim
To: Everyone

Subject: 2012

Hey guys,
Just an update of our plans for this year.
(LARRY - Scroll to the bottom for the edited version.)

[Contents of email]

...

Larry - Here are the points I made for you to ignore;
2012 > 2011.
Practicing in town once a month.
More shows. Better shows. Cool stage stuff.
Weekend Touring?
Recording new songs - new album this year.
We need more merch.
Physical Marketing ideas.
You're gay.
That's what all of that up there said.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why Larry drives me (and the rest of the band) freaking nuts. Why, you may ask, would it drive us crazy when he will obviously get the same basic information from reading that blurb?

Here is the follow up email he sent me... 2 weeks later.

From: Larry
To: Tim

Yeah yeah whatever,
Eat a dick,
Larry
God damnit.

What it has basically come down to is his wonderful wife for sitting down and taking the time out of her days to read all of our emails for him, to remind him about shows, important dates, what time practice is (It's 10. 10:00PM every single Thursday. Why do you need a reminder!?), when he needs to be at the shows... He's nuts. When she doesn't join him for shows, music video shoots, photoshoots, etc... he is late! Hell, we even had to secretly move the practice time! We told him it was at 9:30 for about a month before he realized it was really at 10. Shit, he at least showed up on time for that month!

Do you see what's missing from this kit? A drummer!

Now, honestly, Larry pulls his own weight around the band. He's building us an amazing website, he's helped pitch in to cover costs when the rest of us were broke as hell, he's givin everyone "the talk" before and he's honestly a very good drummer. He did HOLYSHITZOMBIES in ONE FUCKING TAKE. He's the perfect fit for AHTCK and we are super glad to have him. We really do love Larry with all of our distant, hands-off sort of way hearts. This leads us to one very important question (and contest)...

Who wants to guess on how long it will take him to read an entire blog post about himself?

Whoever guesses correctly wins a free copy of The Break Out EP - Zombie Edition!

(available on iTunes... http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-break-out-ep/id420727945)

Thanks to LARRY for this blog post idea!

Sunrise after the Sunset Massacre

Anyone who has talked to any member of this band during the last few years knows one thing - we don't like to play Sunset Blvd and all the silly little clubs lined up & down the strip. It might be a little snotty, but we take pride in the comment made by SanJose.com, claiming we were "a big cut above the pay-for-play musical poodles of Sunset Boulevard..."
That comment was constantly rolling back and forth through my head as we loaded our gear on to the world famous Whiskey A Go-Go stage on Sunset Blvd last week. It was 10:00pm on a Sunday, there were a few people in the club and I was having a cigarette before hoppin' on stage to bring the rock... The security guard was watching a few handfuls of people coming from the Viper Room, Key Club, etc. and would stop each of them and say; "Hey, I know it's Sunday, you're probably headed home, but we got one more band going on and they're really cool - want to come in and watch 'em? Maybe have a beer?" It was a strange sight to see on the un-famous Sunset Blvd... let alone the Whiskey. The guard stamped their hands and let in (for FREE), each small group of friends eager to catch a few new tunes before making the trek back to their overpriced studio apartments. Cool, right?

Now, I'm not naive. I completely understand that this guy couldn't have given less of a shit about us. It's just to get a few more people inside and selling a few more beers. Luckily for us, we ended up with just a few more people standing around than we would've had before.

Now, a quick side note; I love my friends. I love my friends and family and the people who support us 100%. That being said, I don't give a hoot how many people were there or not - we had a few of our very good and very close friends come out and support us and that's all I cared about. The amount of people who come to see us play in Hollywood on a Sunday at 10:00pm will never be important.

Now, here is the interesting part - About 5 years back when I WAS running up and down Sunset Blvd, hitting every single club thinking that a record deal would pop out from underneath the next bar stool, I quickly came to understand how the Sunset Strip works. There are no record executive reps sitting around frantically seeking a new band to give piles of cash to. There are no club managers just waiting for that next band that will play every Friday night for piles of cash. There are no more good reasons to play on Sunset anymore, until you don't have any issues selling a ton of tickets and getting heads through the door to drink that beer.

But now... The wind is slightly starting to change. Over the last few years I've noticed a LOT of bands refusing to play the strip. Some of them couldn't afford it, while others, kind of like us, refused to play because we didn't want to fork over a bunch of money just to have our gear kicked onto the curb at the end of the show. Where is the fun in that?

But then we got this little offer... play a show on a Sunday night for $10 tickets... gotta sell 20 of them. We figured; we each have 4 friends. That's simple enough. Plus, we have only played locally for the last 6 months... Might as well hit another show, right? Right. So we ponied up, sold every last ticket and got a couple people to drive out last minute.

I had a good time. It wasn't as stressful as playing at home where people tend to show up, it wasn't a huge rush to play and leave since we were the last band and... oh... wait...


No, you're right.


They still throw your shit on the curb when you're done. Wanna stay and have a beer? Not tonight, kids.

Maybe we'll hit up the House of Blues next time!

Make it rain!

I needed a few bucks the other day so I asked my Dad to loan it to me since I didn't feel like going to the bank. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a bunch of singles. He said to me; "I was at some strip club the other night and There were about 5 guys with bundles of singles around some girl on a pole. They started sliding the dollar bills out of their hand.. like this..."

I had to watch my father do this for about $19 worth of dollar bills and he finally said; "They call it "rain." It's strange."

As much as I love my Father, sometimes the guy can be crazy. Watching him "make it rain" on some invisible stripper was hilarious and horrifying all at the same time. "They call it rain." will forever be stuck in my head. It made me think of something though as far as putting on a show as a band.

You and I, as show goers, expect a certain amount of entertainment for the amount of money we pay to see some live music. Are we okay with paying $16 to watch 128 bands crammed into 4 hours at the Whisky? No. Are we okay with paying $5 for a local show of great bands? Sure! Hell, are we okay with paying $150+ to see our favorite musician/artist at some big coliseum? Of course we are! The more money we pay, the better a show we want to get. Like strippers. The more "rain" they get, the better of a show they put on. Now, the amount of money you pay (or "rain" just for shits...) doesn't always equal quality but we still expect a decent show for the price!

Thinking about this, It makes me want to put on better shows. In my first band "The Toxic Twinkies," I was content with standing around, not moving much, singing off key and looking scared to death. Not sure how that was okay... but bands (starting out or otherwise) are okay with this for some reason! You just forced 25 to 30 of your closest friends to pay $10 to see you and a bunch of other local bands no one cares about - why are you standing there? Get in their face! Jump off the stage! Break some bones, crack some jokes, take a request of a song you guys don't know and turn it into a sing along... something! Hell, set a piano on fire! Do something! Doesn't even have to be original. I want to be entertained, damnit! Is that so much to ask?

Make it rain on me, bitches.

Gay for Gaga.

A lot of our close friends/fans/family members know that I have a strange and possibly unhealthy obsession with Lady Gaga. This is okay with me. I think she's pretty damn smoking too so you can sit on that!

Here's my deal with her;
The music is fun. One of my biggest things about music is it HAS to be fun. When I first heard "Just Dance" I hated it. It was stupid. "Gonna be okay! Do-do-do-doo-and JUST DANCE!"
Ughhh.
Same thing with Poker Face. (Muh muh muh muhhh)
I just couldn't get into it! Then one day I saw her preform at the VMA's. She played "Paparazzi" and she blew my fucking mind. First off, she came out in crutches and stuff and danced around but in the middle of the song, the music cuts out, she sits down at a piano and begins to play her little Gaga heart out. She pulls away from the piano only to reveal to the crowd that she is now bleeding all over the stage. It ends with her being lifted above the rest of the dancers where they presume a worship-like-position and she hangs mid-air with blood spatter in her eye. In. Her. Eye. I was hooked.

Here is the thing - She not only looks like she's having fun, but she sounds like it too. Props to her producer Red One because he is a genius behind that mixer and she knows how to push all that energy into a recording.

Here is my deal with her - continued;
Her stage presence. I can only DREAM that I will have the same kind of energy and money to put on a show like she does.
In the opening scene of her Monster Ball tour, it tells the story of how some fans are trying to get to the show but.. oh noes! The truck has broken down! What will they do? The Monster Ball is starting RIGHT NOW.
Enter Lady Gaga. Dressed as usual. She walks over to the truck, throws open the hood, lifts her leg up on it, and starts playing a piano. You know, a piano that is where the engine would usually sit. What!? Why didn't I think of that? More importantly, Why can't we have that at our shows?

Seriously, she is awesome. Combine her catchy-as-fuck music with the crazy, what-will-she-wear next image with her message of love, acceptance and getting fucked up in the bar on a Saturday night and you have the perfect cocktail for me:
Someone who isn't afraid to be themselves, doesn't give a flying fuck what people think of her, absolutely loves, adores and appreciates all of her fans and spreads a message like "Born This Way" on national television, radio and internet outlets.
I don't care what you think of her music, It might not be your cup of tea. But damn it, you have to admire her work and how creative she could be.

I might not be able to play a piano inside a truck at the next show, or even hang from the ceiling while blood pours from my mid-section... But I'll sure as hell battle a giant zombie puppet dressed as Osama Bin Laden any day.

I mean, it's all about putting on a good show and giving fans/potential fans their moneys worth... right?

I Didn't Steal Your Dreadlocks, Asshole.

Going to go off track a little here from the usual music-based posts to something I felt needed to be brought up.

Here is the scene -
It's 7:30am and I've just BARELY caught the Green Line train at the El Segundo station. It's usually empty but as we grow nearer to Compton it starts to fill up. A large Jamaican guy gets on the train, glares at me, puts his headphones in and continues to stare.
The train stops at the transfer to the Blue Line and I exit the train. The large Jamaican follows.
I get on my train, now north-bound to Downtown Los Angeles. I snag a seat before the train fills up and I open my copy of The Dark Tower 4; Wizard and Glass (great book by the way...).
Enter; The Large Jamaican.

The train starts moving again and he takes off his headphones, rolls them up and puts them in his pocket. He takes off his sunglasses, folds each arm down carefully and puts them in his other pocket. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then confronts me;
"'Eh WHITE Boy," he says in a Jamaican accent just as thick as he is, "Wha do ya t'ink ya doin' wit ya hair like dat, huh?"
Uhh... What?
He proceeds to verbally tear me a new asshole for the next 10 minutes about how I am an abbomonation and a discusting piece of work because I STOLE his peoples look. I STOLE from the people from the Island. I STOLE another thing from the black man. I was part of the problem of how the WHITE MAN can't leave anything alone that deals with black heritage or something like that.

Okay, I get where you are going. I'm sorry I've offended you.

Just kidding, I hope you choke on a rasta donut today because I'm not stealing your fucking dreadlocks.

Here is the deal; Dreadlocks go back as far (and probably even further than) the Ancient Egyptions - it was a sign of royalty but worn by royals and commoners alike. Asian monks, high up in the mountains, would bound their hair in between books until they had long, nasty ass beaver tail looking things. Native Americans would do this as well. It's a style that goes back HUNDREDS of THOUSANDS of years. It meant different things to each race/religion/group/etc and I don't think that Jamaicans or Islanders can solely hold the claim of King of Dreadlocks. Ohh.. sorry, "Locks." Because, you know the WHITE MAN gave the name of Dreadlocks to them because they looked "dreadful" on someone.
Also - don't even give me the whole "You're stealing our music from us too! Reggae wasn't meant for white people!"
Okay so 1. Shut up, and 2. You're retarded. Reggae is meant to spread messages of peace and love and unity and justice - regardless of the circumstances, it's a uniforming message meant to be sent across the world. The color of your skin doesn't matter. Stop being racist, asshole. A last note - I never even listened to Reggae until AFTER I had dreadlocks and an old, wrinkly Jamaican guy came into my work place and commented on my hair (he is one of TWO Islanders who have actually complimented my hair- the other guy was homeless). He asked me if I had ever listened to Bob Marley and I said No. He went out (slowly) to his car, came back and handed me 3 Bob Marley CDs and told me to be blessed by Jah. Cool, right? Feel in love with the music and the message right then and there. Stop telling me it's not for me. 

Look, I don't own any Bob Marley shirts, I'm not a Rastafarian and I don't claim to be, I don't smoke Marijuana, I don't want to go to Jamaica one day... I don't even think they make me look cool.

I just like dreadlocks.

I'm a chubby dude with dreads who plays video games, sings and writes songs in a metal band and plays the guitar and drums and any other instrument I get my hands on. I love to play hacky sack, love to turn my hair different colors, listens to Reggae on occasion and loves to make random stuff in the garage. I'm not trying to sabotage the Rastafarian culture, I'm not trying to be an abbomonation to your world or your heritage... Fuck man, I'm not trying to be anything but myself. I enjoy the look.

The only thing I'm trying to prove is that life is short, we only get one shot on this planet and we've got to express ourselves.

Now... has anyone seen where my N.W.A. CD went?