The epicenter of music never really left Los Angeles, although lesser cities such as grim Seattle and collegiate Chapel Hill (wherever the fuck that place is) made feeble attempts to grab the ring. In an LA just shy of a new millennium, DFL captures the local hardcore essence much like The Germs and X did a few struts back. DFL's first CD release, entitled My Crazy Life, is a study of current events with a generous salute to punk rock in its primordial stage. Headstrong with rage and energy, it is, if nothing else, bullshit- free. DFL's Tom Davis and Monte Messex first met as unruly, scabby- nosed hooligans at the Hollywood Boys Club on Western Avenue. Messex couldn't figure out how Davis so perfectly melted the plastic ends of his lanyard straps. Davis clued him one day when the Boys Club boys were making Native American tee-pees in the parking lot. Davis turned from the pow wow and covertly pulled a pocket blow torch from his sweat shirt pocket. Messex thought, "Rad," Davis arched his eyebrows and grabbed his skateboard, asking Messex, "Hey, Monte. Do you like fire?" Davis and Messex were thick as thieves for many years, but Davis' fantasy of championing the rare sport of underwater karate surfing took him far away from the City of Angels and into watery destinations too treacherous to describe. To ease the pain of a broken friendship, Messex bought a $25 Reddenbacher guitar (a knock-off Rickenbacker) and strummed away many lonely afternoons in his kitchen, dressed in a [HTML_REMOVED]...[HTML_REMOVED]
Author: MADMILKMAN232
Time: 97 sec
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| pelmazo | temazo!!!! |