The starvations.

I GET THE FEELING, OVER AND OVER AGAIN, somewhere in the middle of The Starvations' set when the band members, in turn, look mesmerized, energized, and saved, that this is a band that can't live without making music. It makes them, regardless if anybody else ever heard them. In perhaps one of the most unforgiving and treacherous musical environments--the Hollywood club circuit--The Starvations have been able to carve out hard-earned mementos of real music while keeping their integrity intact. Man, they're good. They deliver deceptively simple and stark songs with no filler notes, wrapped in effortless melodies. Frontman Gabe's drinking lullabies and swinging explosions fit perfectly with the hopeful, melancholic celebration music of the band. It's a mix of curiosity and exploitation. The songs play alternately happy and sad, set in a world filled with neon wilderness and pollution. The band populates a world where strangulation and love swap places; a place where there are no shortages of cigarette burns on the furniture or chunky lakes of puke in the alleyway. If you think of the Pogues--but young, American urchins living on a diet of smog, with troubles of their own--you would be a bit more right than wrong. But there's more. The Starvations have the distinct knack of twisting up loose strands of the past, and are busy weaving a future of their own.--Redtodd

Tell me about being abducted by Christians.

Gabe: They weren't Christians.

Jean-Paul: We weren't exactly abducted, either We were coaxed into coming into their house. They were kicking everyone out of the shelter. These people were like, "Oh, come over. Take showers. We've got clean socks. We've got food. We've got booze. We've got cigarettes."

Gabe: We got caught in the worst blizzard that area of Colorado had seen in 20 years. One thing led to another, and us and 80 other people had to be crammed into this one-room trailer park club house. Oh, there was a church group there. That's probably how that got misconstrued.

Jean-Paul: And then this chick went into labor. It was fucking hectic in there.

Gabe: Some Mexican girl went into labor and everyone was freaking out, and they had to get Vanessa, our accordion player, in there to translate. The paramedics came and they couldn't speak Spanish. She had to translate the whole time.

Jean-Paul: I think the woman was miscarrying so she's screaming, and Vanessa had to translate everything.

Gabe: Translating cuss words, "She said: 'It fucking hurts!' "

Jean-Paul: It was a bad situation. The woman wasn't well off.

What happened with this latest tour?

Gabe: It was super-duper good. Total treatment we weren't used to at all. Total guarantees, being put up in hotel rooms, and totally hospitable people. We were leaving Chicago and we blow a rod in our engine. To make a long story short, our van, with all of our equipment and our albums, is still in Chicago.

Jean-Paul: We'll find you and kill you if take our stuff. If anyone's taking our stuff: You're dead.

Do you think things are going your way now?

Jean-Paul: If down is our way.

Gabe: Playing music, in general, rums you into a manic-depressive. On top of the world one moment and the next moment, whether you'll read a shitty review or someone's picking apart your lyrics--it's so up and down all the time. It's so hard to tell. You can never even say, "Things are going our way now." I do feel confident that we're doing what we set out to do. Even being on some hip-ass label like GSL doesn't mean your van won't break down and your equipment isn't 2,000 miles away, along with our records, which are probably warped.

Jean-Paul: I haven't looked at the audience in about a year, and I don't know if there's anybody there or not. I could care less. I'd rather be in the studio than playing shows all of the time, but that's how it goes.

Ever read a review of your music that you just didn't get?

Jean-Paul: Most of the time when I read reviews I feel like they're reviewing a Gun Club record that I've never even listened to. All the reviews talk about that. We may sound like that--I had one of their records years ago and I sold it for a pack of smokes. All I know about that band is Sex Beat, and we don't sound like that. That's all I ever heard, and it's kind of annoying because they don't talk about our music. They talk about other people's music. I understand people need references 'cause it's hard to write about music. At the same time, I feel like no one's ever said anything about one of our records. Usually, they don't.

Gabe: No offense to you or anyone, but the thing is with rock journalism it seems like it's so fucking easy these days to go on a search on the computer and read what other people have written about you.

Jean-Paul: Steve Martin totally put it best. He said, "Writing about art is like dancing about architecture." It's really abstract. I've been trying to write about music, too, lately It's abstract to put it in words. It's not words. It's not molly something you can describe.

Gabe: You can always tell when someone has actually listened to the record and read the lyrics and really tried to pick the band's brain a little bit. I read a kind of lukewarm review of us just yesterday and this guy picked apart my lyrics soothingly on "American Funeral." Despite that, I'm glad that he really, really, really listened to the record. I keep on getting compared to this fucking kid Conner Oberst from Bright Eyes, and I still haven't even listened to his music at all. Every single person I've asked about that says, "That's fucking ridiculous." Supposedly, he's this really mellow singer-songwriter. It's strange.

The Sabians (Shiver/TMC)-Two former members of the legendary Sleep combine passionate metal texture combined w/folk, punk and chant-amzing live. One member stayed in a monastery for a year before bringing this unit together.

Leviathan (The Tenth Sub-Level of Suicide/Moribund Record)--SF's own master of necro furry. Bombastic, raw and heavy. Plenty of killer changes and droning subversions of unholy mass.

Unearthly a Trance (Season of Seance, Science of Silence /TMC)-NY's nerve-shattering hypnosludge and distorted doom masters. Sllooowww and Heeeavvvy.

The Hidden Hand (Divine Propaganda/MeteorCity Wino's St Virus/Obsessed/Spirit Caravan)--New band whips out not-so-traditional doom methodology Just plain rips, and the critics are raving this one. Amazing.

Gallery of Mites (Bugs on the Bluefish/Meteor City)--Ten man circus with Monster Magnet personnel, Solace, and Lord Sterling members too. John Garcia (ex-Kyuss) even lends his vocal skills. Beyond groove, epic psych/garage mixing Stooges, Stones etc.

Puny Human (It's not the Heat, it's the Humanity/Small Stone)--Some say soundtrack for the new millennium, pure heavy fuzz-drenched rift-rock cure all.

Comets on Fire (s/t/Alternative Tentacles)--Santa Cruz locals dive into garage/psych, blasting sledge-hammering, drug-induced tales from beyond any speed psychosis I've ever had.

RELATED ARTICLES: Notes from the underground.

THE MAN IN BLACK HAS LEFT THE BUILDING. This ain't the place to write the eulogy for him, others will write it better and longer. That being said, everything the man did was pretty great to phenomenal, from the earliest stuff (like "Hey Porter" or "Big River") to the later stuff (covers of rock bands' songs that often outshined the originals) and everything in between. Goes to show even a guy with no range can make it big with guts, determination, and by sticking to his guns. RIP Johnny Cash, truly legendary ...

Continuing in their skaterock tinged tradition. Superspeedway Music just put out "How's My Driving?" with 16 bands, old to new, all from the Bay Area except Blacklist Brigade. Oldies but goodies include Los Olvidados and Free Beer, and I guess Fang counts as an old band, although they're putting out new stuff now that Sammy is outta the joint (but I think this is an old, previously unreleased old song, "A-OK"). Other standouts include The Cliftons, Clay Wheels, Odd Numbers, The Sick and The Forgotten ... If you want your harsh to be mellowed, why not try the Godfather of Grunge's (sorry Steve) Searching for Melody? It's Steve Turner fron Mudhoney's solo project and a delving into the folkier realm. Steve plays acoustic and sings, and is backed up by other grunge superstars (awright, take it easy). Going folksy worked for Metal Mike from the Angry Samoans ("STP not LSD") and sorta worked for the Meat Puppets (everything after their second LP) ... From New Bedford, MA comes The Hidden. On the more metal side of punk-metal, these three songs kick ass with power. And if they've got Steve Albini twiddling the knobs on production duties they're taking steps in the right direction ... Big Vinny and the Cattle Thieves is Wes from The Half Empties with some other miscreants, singin' 'bout booze and pills and girls. It's punk with a Southwest twang, reminiscent of Gas Huffer ... The Dirtbombs have a new one, Dangerous Magical Noise (on In The Red), which is kind of a terrible title for such a killer record Shifting away from doing soul and R&B standard covers (albeit with the signature frizzed out, bass-heavy Dirtbombs style) this one is all originals, if I am not mistaken. Some of the great songwriting of Mick Collins (remember The Gories?!) shines through, and they retain a soul-ified garage stomp feel. A couple songs on this one are bound to be the kids' anthems in the future: "I'm Through with White Girls." "21st Century Fox" and "Earthquake Heart" ...--Wez Lundry

TENNITUS

The Wrens The Meadowlands Absolutely Kosher * Dismemberment Plan People's History of ... DeSoto * Broadcast Ha Ha Sound Warp * Hella Total Bugs Bunny on Wild Bass Narnack * My Revenge * Soundtrak Ace Fu * Vervein Vast Low Cities * The Matches * Alias Muted anticon * Pop Shuvit * Eddie Haskells It's Going Down Hubcap and Wheel--LC