Welcome to Razorcake | DIY Punk Music | Punk Bands | Punk Rock Bands | Punk Magazine Welcome to Razorcake | DIY Punk Music | Punk Bands | Punk Rock Bands | Punk Magazine

· 1:Punk Parenthood for the Sleep Deprived
· 2:#330 with Craven Rock
· 3:#329 with Daryl Gussin
· 4:One Punk’s Guide to Poetry
· 5:Featured Zine Reviews from Issue #81

New Subscriptions
Stickers and Buttons
The NEW "Because We're Fuckin' Classy" Koozie

Hurula, Vi ar manniskorna vara foraldrar varnade oss for LP
Razorcake #81
Razorcake Ouija Slip Mat
Nights and Days in a Dark Carnival by Craven Rock
Chantey Hook, Underground 7" *Limited Color Vinyl

Can't find Razorcake at your favorite store? Lend us a hand and we'll send you a free issue.

Razorcake will send you one free issue if you ask your librarian if they would carry Razorcake in their stacks. (This offer is good for both traditional libraries and independent libraries.) To get the free issue, you must send us the librarian's name and email and the library's postal address. We will then contact them directly and donate a subscription to them. U.S. libraries only, due to postage.

Subscribe Today

Record Reviews

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

| 0-9| A| B| C| D| E| F| G| H| I| J| K| L| M |

| N| O| P| Q| R| S| T| U| V| W| X| Y| Z|

Below are some recently posted reviews.

RSS Feed

Self-titled: LP
I’m not baiting you if I say, “I don’t know a Justin Bieber song.” I’m not being contrarian when I say, “Nope, never heard Lady Gaga, that I know about.” My thinking is this: certain people spend a lot of time regulating what they ingest and to what they subject their bodies and minds. Food. Exercise. Politics. The sun. Disposable, popular music. Music’s important to me. I cherish the rare place I’m in. No personal Facebook. No cell phone. Records get sent to me in the mail. I can listen to bands and people I admire (sometimes adore) on a regular basis in a manner I find fulfilling at my own pace without a corporation attempting to slide its oil-soaked hands down the front of my pants to extract my wallet (or digital equivalent). The Divine 6/7 feature Jamie and Katie of the Pine Hill Haints and two talented women. The songs are rad. I agree with Jamie’s assessment: they’re looking for that perfect song. This record—a collection of released and new material—is a joy to listen to. It’s an honest, real, authentic, fun, and exuberant record recorded in 2012. So, I’ll make you a deal, popular shit culture who disbelieves that some people just don’t care about you. I’ll listen to your pop trash for one or two songs if you agree to take time, sit down, and listen to the Divine 6/7 on vinyl. Then we’ve got a deal. A one-to-one deal. Yeah, I know it’s asking a lot, but those are the terms. Damn it. Orwell was right again. People are embracing their own systems of control, loving them, and are becoming addicted to the distraction, instead of being cautious of it… and this is a damn fine record. –Todd Taylor (Arkam)

Why Work for Death/We the Fooled: CD
Been a bit of local buzz about these cats of late for a couple o’ reasons, the first being this disc. For those short on long-term memory or just weren’t around thirty years ago, Dissension were a Long Beach, California hardcore band known for a specific brand of zippy thrash very popular in the mid-’80s. They, along with Final Conflict (and maybe Uniform Choice), seemed to be ubiquitous on Fenders Ballroom lineups when that violent-and-hot-as-fuck joint was thee dive du jour in L.A. punkdom. Collected here are their two albums, originally released in 1986 and 1988, in all their breakneck glory, providing the soundtrack for innumerable memories of gang fights, dangling from the beam hanging over Fenders’ stage, underage drinking (the flash memory of too many nights shotgunning alternate gulps of cheap vodka and Donald Duck orange juice in a nearby alley still makes my stomach turn), not-so-clandestine sex, assorted teenage traumas and dramas, violent Samoan bouncers, violent skin/punk bouncers, sweating buckets inside then stepping out into mid-winter weather, and some truly classic gigs. If yer a fan of hardcore, these bad boys more than hold up to the test of time and are definitely worth your dime. The other reason there’s been buzz is that they are apparently again making the gig rounds. If they’re anything remotely on par with what they were back then, I can say with some confidence they’re more than worth the effort to see ‘em. Kudos to Bad Idea for making this stuff available again. –Jimmy Alvarado (Bad Idea)

Desolate: 7”
“Desolate” could be the best song about seasonal affective disorder ever written. Bleak and heart ripping, it speaks of the “Dreary shroud of winter” that everyone who lives in Minneapolis understands so well. It’s where Despise is from. It’s where I’m from. It’s where the cold gets into you through cracks in your knuckles and you find your hands bleeding and your face numb and it sometimes feels like it’s pulling you to an ending, and now there’s a soundtrack to go with that feeling. –MP Johnson (Profane Existence)

Split: 12”
Holy fu-u-u-uck! This is the sort of record you only dream of. Two powerhouses on one slab of grayish marble vinyl. I’m a fan of Desperat, and when I see their records I mentally drool and my mind melts down, “Gotta get this! Gotta get this!” Then, you get Deathraid, who absolutely destroy! Seriously, you would never suspect they are from Seattle. They sound like they’re from Sweden: heavy d-beat hardcore along the lines of Wolfbrigade and Anti-Cimex. The low end on this makes wood floors hum. These songs kill. Tempos range from a mid-tempo chug to fast and chaotic. Drums and guitars smash into each other. Then there’s a pause that lets the bass churn for a moment. Then wham! I like the message of “Enough to Make You Sick,” which points out the general hypocrisy of people who claim to love animals, and are against cruelty, yet don’t hesitate to eat them. Desperat, which consists of members from Mob 47, Warvictims, and Discard, who have been somewhat prolific these past few years, have a little low end in their sound compared to Deathraid, but are still as deadly. The songs are fast, tight, and catchy. Words are spit in a near, rapid-fire attack with a strong sense of urgency. The guitar and bass crank away with an agitated buzzing and rumble sound. The percussion keeps it straight and to the point, busting holes in the sonic wall. This record is absolutely mandatory. –Matt Average (World Funeral, worldfuneralrecords.com)

Facetious: 7”
Ick, barf. Reminds me of that time in the early 2000s when basement shows were full of dinguses in too-tight-fitting clothes dancin’ all spazzy to shitty, keyboard-driven dance punk. I don’t even think there are keyboards on this, but I hear ‘em in my head. –Ryan Horky (Whoa! Boat, whoaboatrecords.com)

Dark Clouds over Middlemarch: 7”
I’m still having a hard time figuring out how it can be 2013 and Dead Milkmen are releasing new records. It’s just something that I never would have expected to happen. After 2011’s The King in Yellow, I thought it would be a long time until we heard from Dead Milkmen again. Nope. Not only have they put out this piece of vinyl, but they’re releasing a series of limited edition 7” singles. Thinking back, I’m pretty sure that it was Dead Milkmen who kick started my love of funny punk rock, so it’s safe to say that I have a soft spot for them in my heart. The songs here sound a lot like the stuff from their last full length, but perhaps a little more upbeat. The song “Ronald Reagan Killed the Black Dahlia” treads into classic Milkmen territory. They are doing what they do best and that makes me happy. –Ty Stranglehold (Dead Milkmen, milkmen@deadmilkmen.com, deadmilkmen.com)

Big Words Make the Baby Jesus Cry: 7”
Here we have the second in a series of limited 7”s from legendary comedy punks Dead Milkmen. My review of the first in the series should also be either in these pages or on the website. This single is a little heavy on the message—more than the joking around—but it still works. The Milkmen of now are definitely of a darker humor than days gone past. It really works. Joe Jack Talcum takes over vocal duties on the flip side in a bit of a sad freakout kind of thing. They’re both good songs (all three, if you include the bonus song on the free download that comes with it) and I’ll be looking forward to the next one. –Ty Stranglehold (Dead Milkmen, milkmen@deadmilkmen.com, deadmilkmen.com)

Bomb This Joint: 7”
Dull, blues-influenced music from a New York dude with a terrible stage name. –Mike Frame (Ever Reviled)

Sports Fans: LP
It can get as simple as this: I really like J. Wang’s voice and guitar tone. They’re both raspy yet clear, smoky yet unstrained. This is the opposite of a diss: it feels like when you’ve been gone for awhile, a year or two. You roll into town, pull up a barstool, order a beer, swivel around, and a band you really like is loading in. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’re happy that they all look like life hasn’t beaten them; that they’re still playing. They plug in and they’re as good as ever. Noble and luminous, even. You buy the record after the show, take it home, and end up playing it as much as their previous full-lengths, splits, and singles. The difference is that you’re no longer part of a day-to-day, week-in, week-out drinking and partying crew. It’s just you and some friends you occasionally stay in touch with. But the songs; the songs stand by themselves. It’s too easy to take bands like Dan Padilla for granted, but if you’re looking to hear honest, well-crafted, no-false-shine, no full-merch-table, no “DIY-for-now” songs, Sports Fans delivers. Here’s to barstool remembering and newborns entering the world into the arms of caring parents. –Todd Taylor (Dirt Cult, dirtcultrecords.com)

Divisions: LP
The first thing that grabbed my attention is the vocals. Maxx sounds like she’s reaching down deep to get this sound. It’s from the gut, slightly abrasive, and tough-as-hell sounding. It really helps in giving their sound a gritty and pissed-off edge. Musically, these guys are straight-ahead hardcore that keeps things at a moderately fast pace. But they smartly stay out of the blinding thrash realm. Instead, playing at the speed they chose allows the songs to have more burn and weight. The guitars are attacked and strangled—at times bleeding distortion—while the drums push everyone along. They have some stop-go parts that come out of nowhere. The definite standout on here is “Man Enough,” pointing out the emotional distance some males display. The song is a quick, sharp burst that blazes a bit faster than the rest. In fact, the whole second side has more urgency and goes for the throat. Just check out “Snitch.” That song is pissed off, and rightfully so. –Matt Average (Critical Convictions, criticalconvictions@gmail.com)

Sacred Hands: 7”
“Sacred Hands” effectively melds hardcore with a deep post-punk undertow, resulting in a tune that is catchy, powerful, and a bit more nuanced than most. The corker here, though, is the flip, “Distressed Dreams,” which churns and bubbles with a bleakness that would warm the darkest death rocker’s heart without sacrificing the adulation of the average punker punter. Monsieur Daryl hepped me to this and damned if he wasn’t right—this be one seriously badass single here. If it ain’t happening already, someone please get a full-length in the works. –Jimmy Alvarado (Inimical)

Your Turn, Next and Whoops Sorry Vicar: CD
Concrete Sox was one of the early bands to adopt the “crossover” sound and run with it, embracing the metal influence of bands like Slayer, Metallica, Exodus and so on while retaining the political lyrical bent popular with contemporary U.K. anarcho-punk-influenced bands, and in turn going on to influence a number of other bands. The band, along with Boss Tuneage, have reissued their first two albums (not counting their split with Heresy) with some added live and demo tracks dating roughly around the same time as the albums were originally released. Both sound very much of their time, though the production quality will likely be considered a wee bit raw by today’s standards. As far as crossover goes, they were one of the better of the lot, keeping both the wanking and the song-lengths in check. If you’re a fan of the genre and have yet to hear anything by ‘em, consider these your entry point. –Jimmy Alvarado (Boss Tuneage)

Ball Power: LP
A nice thing about the rise of enthusiasm for 1970s Australian rock is the number of gems being unearthed and reissued. Coloured Balls’ Ball Power is an awesome slab of full-on Aussie rock. Although blazing rock guitar drives the album, it has been described repeatedly as proto punk. The vocalist has a raspy delivery. Combined with rowdy backup vocals, the album occasionally veers into predating oi outfits. The Decca Cocksparrer recordings have a rocking feel that comes to mind. If the oi comparison turns you off, the choruses often snap back into power pop sensibilities that are catchy as hell. The album came out around during a time when both AC/DC and The Saints were forming. Ball Power rides a pub rock train right down the middle. –Billups Allen (Sing Sing)

Only Theatre of Pain: LP
If you’ve not come across it before, suffice it to say that this is one of the pillars upon which the death rock/goth sound is based. Though the band would go through many incarnations and ultimately end up with two wholly different lineups—one fronted by original vocalist Rozz Williams and another comprised of the remnants of a band called Pompeii 99 that, to keep a long story short, Rozz ultimately lost the Christian Death name to—claiming the right to use the name and releasing a slew of competing albums for a number of years before Rozz committed suicide. All convoluted history aside, this remains their signature release—a heady cauldron of swirling guitars, throbbing bass, pagan rhythms, dour poetry, dark alchemy, and ill-intent, from its bell-peal opening to its closing with the Lord’s Prayer recorded backwards. This touchstone album has been reissued many times and in many formats over the years, this time with the inclusion of an additional single and colored vinyl to make it all the more enticing. –Jimmy Alvarado (Frontier)

Canyons: CD/LP
I’m not a Hot Water Music fan. All I know is that Chuck Ragan is one of two singers. The other singer, it turns out, is Chris Wollard. And he has a back-up band called The Ship Thieves. The four of them play rock and roll that’s different from Hot Water Music but still quite enjoyable. Sometimes I hear the Replacements or other ‘80s college rock, and other times it’s just rootsy, southern-influenced rock’n’roll. The ten songs clocking in at thirty-seven minutes include some acoustic and slide guitar, electric piano, and organ, as well as the regular rock instruments. I’ve listened to this album a few dozen times now and it’s still hard for me to put my finger on what it is I like about it. Sometimes, as a reviewer you just want to shout, “IT’S A GOOD ALBUM! JUST BUY IT!” And then hope everyone knows what all your thoughts and feelings are that are included in that exclamation. My point is; the past couple of years I’ve received some albums released by No Idea Records to review and everything I’ve heard I’ve enjoyed or at least could respect. I would add Canyons to both categories. –Kurt Morris (No Idea)

For Real, For Life, Forever, or Whatever...: 12” EP
Excellent follow up to their Chemical Livin’ record from a short while back. What you get here is some way fuckin’ wound-up punk rock that a lot of bands try to get down on vinyl and fall miles short. Not so with these here Chemicals. It makes me wonder what they’re like if they can get this hyper energy onto vinyl. They don’t play their instruments, they attack them. Each song is a fast and wild blast, with a bass that runs out of control over the drums and guitars. The vocalist sounds like he’s shredding his last vocal chord and slobbering all over himself. The delivery is convincing as well. You can almost feel the words spit into your face. (If that’s a good thing or not, it’s all up to you.) But you can’t hem and haw over if this record is good or not. It’s a fucking killer! Every song is a ripper and they burrow themselves deep into your mind. You will be singing along to “Daddy’s Home” and “Get Sick” before you know, and definitely before you realize it. This record has a way of bonding with your DNA. –Matt Average (Johnny Cat)

Reality Is a Grape: LP
This is my first Cheater Slicks purchase. I’m not proud of that but I have to admit it up front. I knew I’d like ‘em, I mean, c’mon, they have an album called Hate You. In the spirit of full disclosure, I was at a show they headlined and left before they played! In my defense, it was Gonerfest; I’d seen a million bands and had been drinking all day and all night. Because of this, I have restricted myself from day drinking during festivals. Anyway… I’d heard of the Slicks back in the late ‘90s but could never find their records, used or new (that’s a true testament to a band, never seeing their shit in a used bin!). I never was a vinyl-only purist, but something inside me said Cheater Slicks needed to be owned on LP. I’ve passed up chances to buy some albums on CD over the years, a testament to vinyl-only purchasing being silly. Here I am, newest Slicks on the turntable, and I’m glad I did it! I feel better, like getting over the flu or a fever breaking. To describe the sound? Barely controlled chaos. To describe the subject matter? Something between hate and disappointment with where life can take a person. The Slicks have been more active in the past three or four years than the three or four years prior to that. I don’t know if it’s because my living in the Midwest is making me pay more attention to shows within several hours’ drive or what. I hope to see ‘em soon. –Sal Lucci (Columbus Discount)

The Midnite Plowboy: LP
This is an excellent record with great songwriting, very much in the Texas troubadour tradition. Hearing hints of everything from classic honky tonk to early Guy Clark and even a little Doug Sahm in the mix, all elements that are right up my sidewalk. I will admit to being skeptical about a “country” singer from Santa Cruz, CA on a record label out of Brooklyn, NY but this is a fantastic record and could not come more highly recommended. –Mike Frame (Mighty Mouth Music)

Bomb Shelter: LP
A sweet ‘n’ mellow mix of Unsane-style skronk rock and more artier fare. By the end, you feel like you’ve been trying to kill one mutha of a hangover with a power saw/boric acid highball and, yep, that’s a good thing. –Jimmy Alvarado (Dead Beat)

The Two Headed Cobra: Split 2 x LP
Randy “Biscuit” Turner’s death was a bit of a shock, not just to friends and family, but to generations of fans enamored with the bands he fronted, starting with legendary skate-punk-funkers Big Boys, and his singular visual arts work. What’s collected here is more like a multi-headed hydra’s worth of stuff to keep all interested parties happy: two twelve-inch colored-vinyl slabs crammed with the demos for a never-realized second Cargo Cult album and some rehearsal and live recordings of his last band, Texas Biscuit Bombs, wherein they cover songs from Biscuit’s extensive back catalog as well as ZZ Top (their take on “I Heard It on the X” just plain smokes) and Spencer Davis Group; a special-cut, screened cover featuring some of his art; a download card and a bunch of high quality reproductions of assorted gig flyers stuffed in with the lot. Clearly a labor of love from the packaging to the music contained, this serves as a nice exclamation point to the life of one of punk’s true treasures. –Jimmy Alvarado (Modern City)

Voice of a Generation: LP
Here’s a good place to state why Razorcake doesn’t take the bait of capitalizing the “o” and putting an exclamation point after the “i” in the word oi. (“Oi!” in English, is like saying “Hey!” in American. “Hey! Music” sounds horribly stupid.) Oi! was a marketing term, musical make believe, coined by writer Garry Bushell. He made such other music terms as “Skunx.” (Skins + punx. Get it? Lars did.) The problem with tags is that when they go out of style, most bands tied to the mast of the particular label sink. Pretty much everyone except one or two bands gets fucked, except the industry that feeds off of broken dreams, unfulfilled promises, and short-term memories. (See: grunge, powerviolence, emo, bandana thrash.) I don’t know where you sit with New Mills, Derbyshire, England’s Blitz, but I’ll say that they put out one of the finest full-lengths of the early ‘80s. This one. Voice of a Generation. It’s punk. No need to tart it up, capitalize it, and add an exclamation point. It stands on it its own just fine in the thirty years since it was first released. This reissue sounds great, is from the Czech Republic, comes with a glossy fold-out poster, and was pressed on Pirate’s Press. It’s nice to have it readily available at a reasonable price instead of some bad “live” recording on shady “European pressing” vinyl. –Todd Taylor (PHR, phr.cz)

Self-titled: 7”
Four-song single from this band who sound a lot like a more British Zolar X and a little like the Spits in the backing tracks. –Mike Frame (White Zoo)

Revenge of the Black Widows: CD
Another slab o’ all-instrumental rockin’ for yer earholes from these cats. They still mine a host of different styles—borderline-metal, rock, surfy stuff, funk, even a smidge of psychedelia—and keep things interesting by maintaining all wankery potential at minimums and the songs brief but excellently executed. –Jimmy Alvarado (Vital Gesture)

“Wonderland America” b/w “Sepia Yeah / Kiki Kaikai”: 7"
The Birthday Suits, a duo of Japanese guys located in Minnesota (Hideo’s ex-Sweet Jap), are like an explosion of origami: Tight, precise aural folds. Paper’s just not paper any more. It’s got volume, mass, shape. Ducks and swans and shit. Sound’s not just sound any more: distortion/melody, noise/silence. Stop/fucking go! Buckminster Fuller and Stockhausen would be proud. Art makes sense to me when it’s loud as shit, sounds like it’s crashing through the front of the house, and then hands me a cup of noodles. Oh, my pretty face. Totally hits the spot. –Todd Taylor (Asian Man)

Split: 7”
Big Eyes: Confidence trumps style. Style is bought and sold. Confidence is earned. Big Eyes are getting gnarly: stomping, thick, badass. Kate’s time spent with Nato Coles and Amos Pitsch was well served. Like Lemmy, when she plays, she’s a nine-foot-tall lion. Mean Jeans: Piping in processed foods (Velveeta) over The Martian Chronicles (totally worth re-reading), and splashed with infinity-speed Coors Light, the Mean Jeans are fucking zero-gravity effortless. As much as interpretive dance about grant funding sucks, the Mean Jeans rule. If Rock’n’roll High School was a real place, the Mean Jeans’ got diplomas and are still happily working in the cafeteria. Shityeah. Originals and one cover of one another’s band. Pretty perfect. –Todd Taylor (Dirtnap, Dirtnaprecs.com)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344 345 346 347 348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 357 358 359 360 361 362 363 364 365 366 367 368 369 370 371 372 373 374 375 376 377 378 379 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421 422 423 424 425 426 427 428 429 430 431 432 433 434 435 436 437 438 439 440 441 442 443 444 445 446 447 448 449 450 451 452 453 454 455 456 457 458 459 460 461 462 463 464 465 466 467 468 469 470 471 472 473 474 475 476 477 478 479 480 481 482 483 484 485 486 487 488 489 490 491 492 493 494 495 496 497 498 499 500 501 502 503 504 505 506 507 508 509 510 511 512 513 514 515 516 517 518 519 520 521 522 523 524 525 526 527 528 529 530 531 532 533 534 535 536 537 538 539 540 541 542 543 544 545 546 547 548 549 550 551 552 553 554 555 556 557 558 559 560 561 562 563 564 565 566 567 568 569 570 571 572 573 574 575 576 577 578 579 580 581 582 583 584 585 586 587 588 589 590 591 592 593 594 595 596 597 598 599 600 601 602 603 604 605 606 607 608 609 610 611 612 613 614 615 616 617 618 619 620 621 622 623 624 625 626 627 628 629 630 631 632 633 634 635 636 637 638 639 640 641 642 643 644 645 646 647 648 649 650 651 652 653 654 655 656 657 658 659 660 661 662 663 664 665 666 667 668 669 670 671 672 673 674 675 676 677 678 679 680 681 682 683 684 685 686 687 688 689 690 691 692 693 694 695 696 697 698 699 700 701 702 703 704 705 706 707 708 709 710 711 712 713 714 715 716 717 718 719 720 721 722 723 724 725 726 727 728 729 730 731 732 733 734 735 736 737 738 739 740 741 742 743 744 745 746 747 748 749 750 751 752 753 754 755 756 757 758 759 760 761 762 763 764 765 766 767 768 769 770 771 772 773 774 775 776 777 778 779 780 781 782 783 784 785 786 787 788 789 790 791 792 793 794 795 796 797 798 799 800 801 802 803 804 805 806 807 808 809 810 811 812 813 814 815 816 817 818 819 820 821 822 823 824 825 826 827 828 829 830 831 832 833 834 835 836 837 838 839 840 841 842 843 844 845 846 847 848 849 850 851 852 853 854 855 856

| 0-9| A| B| C| D| E| F| G| H| I| J| K| L| M |

| N| O| P| Q| R| S| T| U| V| W| X| Y| Z|

Razorcake Podcast Player


Black and Red Eye

If you live in the Los Angeles area and want to help us out, let us know.

Get monthly notifications of new arrivals and distro and special offers for being part of the Razorcake army.

Razorcake/Gorsky Press, Inc.
PO Box 42129
Los Angeles, CA 90042

Except for reviews, which appear in both, the
contents of the Razorcake website are completely
different from the contents of Razorcake Fanzine.

© 2001-2011 Razorcake/Gorsky Press, Inc. Privacy Policy

Razorcake.org is made possible in part by grants from
the City of Los Angeles, Department
of Cultural Affairs and is supported
by the Los Angeles County Board of
Supervisors through the Los Angeles
Arts Commission.
Department of Cultural AffairsLos Angeles County Arts Commission

Web site engine code is Copyright © 2003 by PHP-Nuke. All Rights Reserved. PHP-Nuke is Free Software released under the GNU/GPL license.