Three Doctors Band

Not Dead Set On Making Very Good Music.
*special introductory paragraph!
*Back To Basics-"Live"
*Archaelgy Of The Infinite

Here goes Gregg Turkington YET again, with another band of crap. The Three Doctors band were a post-Zip Code Rapists project featuring Brandan Kearney (from Caroliner Rainbow - an EXTREMELY smart fellow vegan who has a number of talents, including writing reviews of new albums entirely in anagram form - I'll check and see if he'll let me post any here - they're REALLY incredible), Trey Spruance (from Faith No More, Mr. Bungle, Secret Chiefs 3 and...err..I hesitate to say this, but apparently he was in Plainfield for a while) and Margaret Murray (U.S. Saucer). Musically not a bad conglomeration, right? Right! They weren't bad. Just odd. Forget that "band of crap" thing I just wrote. That was a lie of galactical proportions.

Back To Basics-"Live" - Amarillo 1994.
Rating = 6

The concept here (as explained in uproariously hilarious liner note interviews) is that the Zip Code Rapists have broken up, and Gregg Turkington is filing lawsuit after lawsuit against former bandmate John Singer while trashing him in the press and launching a brand new forward-thinking project called The Three Doctors Band. It's a funny concept, but the album isn’t funny at all. Nor does it really try to be, much. The joke is conceptual - Turkington claims in the liner notes that his band will be experimenting and not living in the past, but then the record itself is a bunch of shitty cover tunes.

Shitty? Well yeah, quite frankly. "Papa Don't Preach" is certainly funny, and a couple of the country tunes are very well done, but the inexcusably long live version of "Sweet Caroline" in which Gregg plays the "rock and roll Vegas" bandleader to the hilt is just STUPID.

Look, let me get to the point. You will likely see this album in a dollar bin near you soon. It has somebody's ass on the cover, wearing pink underwear with the band name printed on it. Look inside the album cover. If it has the liner notes - the interviews - BUY IT. The liner notes are the best part of the album. In fact, a grade of six seems a bit high, but it's hard to deny the beauty of the guitars in those country tunes. And hey, even if it's messy and stupid, a Monkees cover is always appreciated by Mark Prindle – not to mention the funky ‘updating’ of the Zip Code Rapists' signature tune, "The Three New Doctors."

What do you want me to talk about now? I know there are a few of you who think it's fun to read my reviews even if you don't know what the band sounds like, so what can I say here to entertain you? I only ask because an overwhelming sense of WRONG has crept over me again this evening. It's another one of those OCD-driven nightmare nights where no matter what happens, how sweet my fiancee is (yes! i'm engaged now! send a card!), no matter how tasty dinner was, no matter what music I'm listening to -- all I want to do is jump off the roof to make this feeling go away. It blocks the world out. It's just me and my brain. And my brain is lying to me. I know it's not real. Does your mate have to continually say to you throughout the course of an evening, "There's nothing wrong. You'll feel better later."? I hope not. I'm perfectly aware that I'm not important. I'm perfectly aware that tons of other people have it worse than me, with cancer and such. But I've never been them. All I know is what it's like to be me. And what it's like to be me upsets me greatly. I feel like a ball of self-pity, but all I'm honestly trying to do is bring it out in the open - when I see it in writing like this, it becomes less of a personal nightmare and more of a recognizable psychological condition. And I figure that maybe this is interesting. Maybe other people would be interested to know what it's like to have this stupidass brain disorder. This is what it's like. It's like I just want to go to sleep to shut the voices out. They aren't real voices -- just feelings. Bad feelings. ALL THE TIME. My mood at any given moment has nothing to do with what is going on in reality. Unless I'm really busy at the workplace or with some other activity, I have trouble focusing on what is actually happening in the world. My brain sends powerful wrong messages to me and I can't make them stop. Did you ever wonder why I reviewed so many bands in such a short period of time? OCD compelled me. I felt like something was wrong if I wasn't reviewing records. I'm over that now. I finally forced myself to stop when I realized it had been a burden instead of fun for a solid year.

Here's a good example that might make you chuckle - When I'm alone in a record store, my brain always creates these godawful movie scripts and scenarios in my head. ALWAYS. I don't know why. Just trying to keep busy, I guess. Lines like "I never said he was guilty - I said he was an ASSHOLE." Hilarious macho Bruce Willis dialogue like that. I don't do it on purpose. I can't stop doing it.

Some say that happiness isn't a normal state for a human being to be in anyway. Then what's the point? Let's go back to our early teens now and ponder that age-old adolescent question, "Why was I born in the first place? And why does all the music on the radio suck so much?" But enough about music - we're talking about my tragic life right now.

My tragic life? Hmm. My dad, who I got the OCD from, used to make me cry about my poor performance at baseball. He would scream a lot and one time he even left the baseball field and went home because I struck out or something. That's it though. Not a whole lot of tragedy in my life. The first best friend I ever had is dead. My first girlfriend is an elementary school teacher, happily married with two kids. My second girlfriend seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet. My third girlfriend is wonderful so I'm marrying her and we're getting a puppy.

There are things I'm ashamed of, but I have no secrets. I see no reason to have secrets. I have no plans to go into politics and I haven't done anything that would make me get thrown in jail (except for some OCD-compelled shoplifting, but that's neither here nor there at the moment). What about you? There's more to you than your musical tastes. Is there anything you want to say? I'm serious, for once in my damned life. Different people have different problems, both physical and mental. And I think it would be very nice if some of you would write to my web site about what it's like to be you. Whether it's a happy lark, a big joke or a painful hell for whatever reason. I doubt any of you will actually do it, because I know it's asking a lot for you to dig deep into your psyche for a fucking Three Doctors review page, but I'm asking anyway. Even though it's ungodlily pretentious of me to do so. Now you know what it's like being me - what's it like being you?

Reader Comments (Dave Wagner)
Oh, Mark. What up, money? 'twas silly of you to think no one would send comments about your "what it is to be you" thing - attention whores like me LIVE AND DIE for the chance to display this kind of pointless, brutal honesty in a public forum, and I bet a lot of us like your page! In fact, this ties in to one of the most telling, funny, and irritating things about me - for the last two years or so (and especially in the last few months), I've been feeling guilty whenever I'm not making a ridiculous spectacle of myself in public. Really stupid stuff - somehow I just feel right when I'm yelling at Denny's about Sean Connery, or wearing my Songs About Fucking t-shirt, or a coffee filter on my head. Why? I don't know. It's sort of self-conscious, and I wish I didn't feel a need to be a jackass to feel content. Maybe I do that stuff because I was shy, fat, and braces-laden when I was but a boy, which meant that boys took the piss out of me (I even had a song recorded about me when I was in ninth grade!! How cool is that???) and chicks dug me like menstral pain? Now of course, I'm a hottie skinny-ass Cusack-guy that babbles and babbles to strangers and WON'T STOP and couldn't possibly care less what anyone thinks about anything, but this stuff sticks with you - it's not that I care about BEING the depressed kid I once was, it's just that somewhere deep inside I'm afraid of FEELING that way again. Maybe it's not necessarily a bad thing - I guess it keeps me vital. Who knows? Who cares? Any shrinks out there? I have some of the same obsession problems as you, Mr. Mark, so that probably doesn't help.

For those of you emotional-problem free people out there, let me tell you that Mark's not exaggerating. He paints a damn good picture. I know it seems stupid and self-involved to put so much stock in your own inconsequential feelings, but it's just so..... overwhelming. It feels like someone's always about to pull this blanket over your head, and you know EXACTLY what it will feel like when they do. Uncertain, a little afraid, but mostly just WRONG. I chain-smoke, I drink enough coffee to pay for Columbia's new soccer stadium, and I take naps during the day - all pretty much to stay numb as long as possible. That's just fucked-up. Does this make sense?

But outside of all that crap, my life really is FAAAAABULOUS. I'm nineteen, have an awesome apartment, a lot of great friends who love me and whom I love and would do anything for, my parents are fantastic and didn't fuck me up or anything, and I have tons of creative outlets that I'm actually GOOD at (I draw, take photos, have a TV show, write screenplays, and play in a TERRIFFIC band - the TRUE original kings of comedy, Einsa Freezones). Everyone tells me I'm really funny and sweet and nice and cool, and I think that should be enough. Most of the time it is, but every third day or so I get hung up on something unbelievably stupid, can't let it go, and think about killing myself. I feel like I'm being a pussy if I don't say and do EVERY SINGLE THING that comes to mind. Awwww well, what the hell difference does it make?

I just keep getting this really powerful sensation that what I really need is someone to share my life with - being independent has it's charm, but it all just gets lonely and depressing and pointless. I guess it takes a really screwy person to worry about being alone their whole life when they're ninteen. I'm just not able to see sex as a motivator as most guys do, as for some god only knows reason I'm only attracted to one or two girls in a YEAR. TWO. And they're usually the WRONG ones. So I always end up with lots of close female friends, but none of the intimacy that I really want. The girl I've been interested in for the last few months is a very close friend of mine who works for my dad, which would make a real adult relationship awkward as hell. I know I'm attracted to her (I wish I could let that go, but regardless of how I choose to think, I still fantasize like a nazi), SHE knows I'm attracted to her, but she just doesn't want to deal with the scenario of dating the boss' son. And who can blame her? It's possible she's just humoring me, but I don't care. It doesn't matter. I'm supposed to be alright with the friendship thing, and I guess I am, but well... look, I save her voice mail messages. How sad is that????

Well, I'm done for now. Thanks, Mark - that was great! If you're reading this page, I heartily recommend sending something in. It's a blast! Come on - don't leave me hangin', buuuuuuuddy! (Philip Maddox)
I've never posted to this site before, but your invitation to talk a little about my own life is hard to resist, and since you asked so nicely, here's some tidbits about me.

I'm a 17 year old high school senior at a vaguely southern Virginia high school that manages to get close to straight A's without putting too much effort into it. Yippee. It sucks to go there. Not because of the work or anything - that's no problem at all - but it's because, with very few exceptions, the people there suck. Lots of homophobic jocks who like to hurt people that they think might be gay and otherwise torment them (I've been called gay so many times at this point I've lost count). I'm not gay, but that basic attitude of "You aren't like me, so I'm gonna fuck with you" pisses me off to no end. The other end is those girls who brag about their sexual exploits with every last person in or out of the school. None of them will even talk to me, of course, because, frankly, I'm ugly as hell and am, without question, a total dork. Not to mention that I'm a bit overweight, which has caused my quite a bit of hell over the years before I finally got used to it. It used to be worse - when I was in 7th grade, I just weighed, like, 300 pounds. I've lost about a hundrend pounds since, but a 200 pound guy is still a bit on the chunky side. Maybe all that time being ruthlessly mocked made me really cynical. Probably.

Another thing that sucks is that most of my friends have gotten really into drugs at this point. Nothing "hardcore" like heroin or anything, but they get drunk and/or smoke a hell of a lot of pot basically every night. I guess it was kind of funny at first, watching everybody around me say stupid things and weave around, but after a while it just got really sad and I pretty much stopped talking to anybody or leaving my house much. With the exception of, like, 3 people, there isn't really anyone I can talk to anymore. Sometimes it bothers me more than other times. I've been invited to "join in" on several occasions, but frankly, I've got no desire to get into drugs. My life's screwed up enough as it is.

Basically, as a result of all the things above I've mentioned, the one thing I fall back onto more times than not is music. I literally spend every cent I get on music of some sort. Listen to it constantly, too. There is literally no time in my life (aside from when I'm watching TV, which is kinda rare lately, except when Futurama, The Simpsons, or Mystery Science Theater 3000 (my favorite show, by the way) are on). Out of all my CDs, though, I think Simon and Garfunkel are the guys that speak to me the most. No matter what mood I'm in, I can pop one of their CDs in and things feel better. They might even be my favorite band at this point. I don't know, they just really "do it" for me. I don't know why I got into music so hard - it's always just been comforting, I guess, even records like, say, Slayer's Seasons In The Abyss, which isn't exactly a warm, cozy record.

Wow, that sounded bad, didn't it? Truth be told, I'm not really an unhappy person. I'm pretty quiet and introspective and don't have too many friends, but I'm used to it, so, except on certain occasions, it doesn't get to me and I get along just fine. Sometimes it gets a bit much, though, and I really lash out at people that I feel, for one stupid reason or another, have things "better" than me, even though they really don't. Then I feel really bad about it, but for some reason or another, don't really do much to try to correct the situation, just hope that things get better. It only happens on very rare occasions, however, so it's not a big problem. I just wish I could do something about it, because all it does is hurt me. I've almost lost 1 or 2 of my real friends that way, and if they hadn't been really forgiving, I would have.

Well, that's about it. Like I said, that little speech up there makes things sound worse than they really are, as I really am a reasonably happy person most of the time. I'll probably get over all this shit someday and look back at this and laugh.

Oh, and Rich - the thing about doing things because they're the "correct" thing to do? Yup, happens to me all the time. I've done stuff in the past not because I liked it, but because I thought I should. For example, back a while back, I had a friend who was really into anime, so I got into it to. Spent a lot of cash on stuff I didn't even really like. I got over it, though. Still like some anime (ever seen Princess Mononoke? That movie rules!), but don't pretend to like stuff I hate just because I "should" anymore. I'm not quite sure why I like writing record reviews (over on Music Junkies Anonymous), but I know that I actually DO enjoy that. I tell ya, music and its related discussions and components has probably kept me sane over the years. (Ben Marlin)
I'll bite too, because you've asked about my favorite subject: me. Before I start, congratulations on your engagement, and in case I've ever given you the wrong idea, I think your site is badass and you've been a giant influence on me. So... I'm 20, I go to a good school (The University of Florida), I get decent grades (B's), I have loving, supportive parents (Hi Mom and Dad), a best friend who knows me better than I know myself (hey Evan), and the awesomest girlfriend in the world (I love you, Katie). I've never had a major disease or been the victim of a violent crime; I never get sick; I haven't even barfed since I was 15 or so. My folks aren't forcing me to get a job right now, so I have plenty of prime ass-sitting time and precious few responsibilities. The running joke among my friends is that everything goes right for me. If I forget an assignme! nt, the teacher forgets to collect it. I once played a game of monopoly where the other guy had hotels on practically every property and all I had was Baltic Avenue, and it took him forever to beat me. I must have made it around the board about 15 times without hitting any of his pieces, and every time he went around, he got stuck on Baltic. My friends were cracking up: "That's soooo Ben." And that's just an example. The point is that the ingredients for my life sound perfect; and yet, I am so unsatisfied with me, with who I am and where I am at this point in my life.

The problem is that I am lazy. I do everything tomorrow, and if I can, a week or more later. Everything I accomplish can be explained away by some sort of fluke. I have a webpage, and I rarely update it. I get mediocre grades because I can't get myself to study for more than a few minutes before any test. My work is half-assed. My efforts with other people are half-assed. I cannot bring myself to care about anything except my girlfriend. I don't know how to change this. I don't know how to, as my girlfriend says, "find joy in the simple art of living." I just don't care. I walk around lost in thought, I come home, I sit at the computer. I am passionate about music, but barely anything else. Everything else I like (girls, food, the internet) can be dismissed as frivilous and stupid. I don't have the ambitions th! at successful people have. I don't have one amazing talent that I know of. I'm scared of life, and I also don't care about most of it. The world would see this as selfish and lazy, and I guess that's what I am. And this may sound spoiled, but it's such an awful thing not to be able to blame anything on anybody. EVERYTHING bad that happens to me is my fault: something I didn't do right, something I didn't try hard enough at, some wonderful opportunity that I wasted. The whole world seemingly works around the clock to make my life good, and I waste every chance it gives me. Everybody else gets to blame things on other people, and I'm stuck being my only scapegoat. It's a lot more frustrating than you'd think. Ambitious people would see it as a great opportunity, and I see it as a real pain.

I wish I could run around the smell the flowers and get straight A's and build a website as big as George Starostin's. I want to know and care where the hell I'm gonna be in 10 and 20 years. I want to be able to make friends with everyone I meet, and to be able to pick who I become friends with, rather than rely on the few people who go out of their ways to talk to me. The funny, cool person I am with my best friends -- I want to be like that with everybody, rather than the emotionless tree stump I am right now. I feel like I'm only half here. I want to lose weight and be fit, and in 5 years, no stupid fad diet has accomplished what a solid month of diet and exercise would -- but I wouldn't know. I want to know that I'm smart, because I feel progressively dumber the farther I get into college. So much of my life is dull and featureless, and it's all my! fault, and in three years, I haven't done anything about it, and I don't know when or how I'm gonna break out of this. Sometimes other people and situations make me happy, and then when they're taken away, I'm suddenly faced with how much I've wasted the last three years of my life and how the future could end up being the exact same way. (Ben Greenstein)
Okay, let's start at the beginning:

I was born in southern California, raised in southern California, and currently live in southern California. My pop was jewish and my mum a christian, so I always got to celebrate twin December holidays plus my birthday, also in December). Plus, my family was rich, so I got a lot of presents. I realize in retrospect that this really spoiled me, and probably set me back a couple of years in terms of self-reliability. I went to pre-school at a church, where the instructor complained that I "read too much." Proof that private schooling is NOT the solution to poor public schooling. Growing up, my best friend was my next door neighbor, who gave me his own brand of military training. Basically, I would be chased around by his dog while he threw rocks at me.

In elementary school, I was diagnosed with ADD, a disorder that some guy made up to explain why his son wasn't good at math. I was put on Ritalin, an untested drug that made my grades worse and gave me periods of memory loss. It also gave me a nasty temper - allegedly, I once chased a kid up the flagpole. I have no memory of this. This, along with my hatred of team sports, led to me being a very strange and unpopular boy. My only real friends were two computer nerds a few years younger than me. Junior high - me still a dork, me having ritalin induced hallucinations that my teacher is shooting fire from her hands, me getting in a lot of fights with people lower on the food chain than me. They even put me in a "resource" class with some retarted kids - as if it was that far fetched and idea that my behaviour was somehow the result of the DOPE they were feeding me on a daily basis. Eventually, they took me off of it, which leads us to....

High school. A lot more people were nice to me during this period, mainly because my father was the school principal. I would have people I didn't even know having me tell my father "hi." I got into theater, because I figured the people would be a lot more open-minded and rewarding to talk to, but most of them turned out to be just as stuck-up as the "bops" from the rest of the school that they all constantly complained about. I did meet one friend that way - Sarah, a gorgeous goth girl who had fewer friends than I did. She is a great friend - and the other pals I met during that time (Don, Geoff, Marika, Tom, Meghan, Chris) are no less fantastic. These are the REAL people. No egos on them. No pretentiousness. They didn't take themselves too seriously - all of the other drama kids felt that their ability to act was some great gift, but the truth is that acting is the easiest fucking job in the world. ESPECIALLY in high school plays.

I thought I was in love thrice in high school, but each time it was really more of a series of obsessive crushes. Man, I was really creepy when it came to the opposite sex. It was a self-esteem thing. I was skinny and had this messy brown hair, and wore the same jacket + jeans outfit every day - how could girls POSSIBLY like me? I've realized recently two things - A) I have the potential to be a really good-looking guy, I just have to wear the clothes and hairstyle that I WANT to wear instead of what I think looks "normal," and B) I really don't care too much about having a girlfriend. I can wait a long time, if need be. Relationships are really something that people put far too much emphasis on.

So I graduated. And I went to a community college, and found out the people there are just like the people in high school, and still go there if only to pass time. I got a job in a music store, but it's a crappy corporate music store, and I'm really sick of it. The largest independent record store in CA is right in my hometown, and I spend most of my time and money there anyway, so I should probably get a job there. The thing I enjoy most about life is MUSIC, and my british amigo Alex just busted my car stereo, so I'm not going to be able to listen to "Live At Leeds" tomorrow like I planned. I still haven't tried drugs or alcohol. It just seems kind of stupid and pointless to me. Maybe people should have the right to do it, maybe not. I've had a lot of attention from members of the opposite sex, and have been interested in very little of it. Too many people who want to have very complex relationships, when I just want something simple. I'm actually a very optimistic person - I try hard to be nice to everyone, even those who aren't really nice to me. I HATE people who take themselves too seriously. Like this guy Jason who eats at this coffeeshop I go to. He thinks that since he runs a poetry magazine, that makes his opinion more valid than anyone else's, and gives him the right to share his opinion where it's not welcome (example - the time he told Sarah he didn't like her artwork). I'm sort of in a band now (me doing most of the instruments and vocals, my friend Bob engineering and producing, and my otro friend Andrew drinking a lot of soda), and we play pure novelty rock. Check us out at - and be sure to check out the song "Monster Bar Mitzvah." I've had offers to be in serious bands, but mostly from people who are into the Cure and Pink Floyd, bands which I myself can't stand. I'm sort of goth now in terms of clothes (which is probably why I get those offers), but am also sort of "retro-70's-bowling shirt-goth." I like my style of dress a lot. I have died black hair and Elvis Costello specs. For the first time in my life, I am really proud of who I am. I look weird, and people still think I'm a nutcase, but now that I'm out of high school I COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT. I'm enjoying myself. If I want to ride my friends shoulders around the pretentious coffeeshop while saying "did you eat my creme egg," just for the satisfaction of poking holes in the logic of a few more stuck-up goths and ravers, then I should have that right, shouldn't I? And if I want to have a serious conversation with the same friend in the same night, that's fine, too. But people really need to be less afraid to act on their nutty impulses. Anyone who can talk politics intelligently and still make a good fart joke has my respect. Ditto for people who admit that they don't know everything. I don't pretend that I know ALL about music. But I know people who do. And they stink, because the minute you tell them that your OPINION is that "Money" by Pink Floyd is a ripoff of "Easy Money" by King Crimson, they get really offended and start telling you that you don't know the REAL Pink Floyd. But I don't pretend to know the REAL Pink Floyd. I know I've heard "Money," and to me it sounds like a ripoff. Is my opinion wrong? How can an opinion be wrong? If I think that Bjork's "Homogenic" is her weakest album, does that really mean I'm out of touch with the times? If I don't like most classical music, does that mean I'm "too dumb to understand it's complexity," as someone once said? If I think that punk rock is "stupid," does that mean that I am a "pussy"? If I think that "Duke Of Earl," by Gene Chandler, is a great song, am I an idiot? I could keep going and oing. But I'm tired. I really like this kind of ranting, though - maybe I'll start my own web page so I can do it more often.

Oh, and I liked that "Bare Wench Project 2" as well. A lot better than the first one. (Evan Streb)
Hello. I just wanna say that all of you are really awesome and I thoroughly enjoyed reading your comments. Cheers! (Katie Skemp)
My faults ? I am a perfectionist. I feel I must give 110 % to the various things I have committed myself to, and as I result, I wind up disappointed with myself and others, often irrationally; surprisingly, this has occasionally manifested itself in a fear of commitment to other people. I have an obsession with achievement in order to acquire financial security, especially in terms of obtaining a professional degree - MD or PhD depending on which direction I feel like taking my psychobiology degree in.

Major traumas in my life so far ? Having my chest cracked open in the summer of my junior year in high school, getting fucked up the ass by the financial aid department at Emory University, and watching my mother slip in and out of depression and assorted psychological malaises.

Reflections on The High School Experience ? For awhile, it always seemed to be a matter of "damned if I do, damned if I don't". I went to a private high school on scholarship, and was torn between despising the wealth that I saw, and desparately wanting to have that wealth myself. There also seemed to be an unwritten law in high school that blonde cheerleader chicks shouldn't be on the Quiz Bowl, or arguing about conciousness theory, or Thinking About Important Things In General. The nerds wouldn't accept me completely ; the pom-poms and the letter jacket were completely off-putting to them. And it would be a gross misstatement to say that I fit in completely with the cheerleader/jock crowd as well - I always felt a little "not there" at the parties and such. I wouldn't say those feelings ever truly fermented as self-conciousness or lack of self-esteem - but I always seemed to be stradding the divides in the high school "social structure", and not having a very defined role was, at times, disconcerting. So I gave up on trying to fit in. Entering amateur nights at the local stripclub ? Sure thing. Getting eight 5s on the AP exams ? Sure thing. But how did the two fit together ? Even now, I can only shrug my shoulders and say "That was just how I was". I just wanted to do whatever I damn well pleased at that time, and although it occurred to me that I was sending out mixed messages to the general population, I liked it that way. I still do. I want to have my cake and eat it too. By that time, I had made my way through more than my share of maleflesh, and had also found myself in interesting situations with girls as well. Sluttiness or embracing do-me feminism ? It didn't matter, because I was ( and still am ) okay with the things that I did. Which is not to say that those things were easily digested by everyone. They weren't, and caused a great deal of hurt and resentment for a long time.

Problems now ? Hmm. Realizing that Chasing Amy was written for me and a certain someone certainly helped Things a bit :) I'm all settled down in a relationship with a capital R, something that I never imagined I would want. He's one of the brightest and most talented people I know, and therefore, it bothers and worries me a great deal that he feels untalented and not-so-bright. Most of my concerns these days involve the future. Getting into some sort of graduate school is a daunting task. Picking what sort of research projects to get involved in here at school is giving me bouts of indigestion. I'm taking, on average, 18 credit hours a semester, and am not as spunky as I used to be - school is very trying. I haven't been table-dancing in ages :) I desperately want to achieve financial independence. I'm still not getting along with my family. I'm pretty much the Anti-Jew :), and I know this causes a bit of tension in my boyfriend's family.

I'd like to think that I have mellowed and matured as the years ( all 20 of them ! ) have passed. Maybe I'm older and wiser now than I was in high school. Maybe I will get a wonderful job in the field of psychobiology that will pay me six figures. Maybe I will run off to Tahiti to dance naked on the beaches. But I guess that, despite my faults, I'm a good person. And I do know good people who love me for who I am. And that's all I could ever ask for. (Johnny Turd)
Hello, my name is Johnny Turd and I'm a Mark Prindle-aholic. Ever since I stumbled across this page on my never-ending journey through cyberspace, it has been a constant source of entertainment. I have always felt that Prindle's vernacular and frame of mind was very close to mine; thinking up generic macho movie phrases is my all-time favorite hobby. It distracts me from the fact that I'm 21, I still live at home, I'm a bus boy at a local hole-in-the-wall eatery, every band I've ever been in has self-destructed, my back is curved, my feet are flat, I have an astigmatism in my right eye making dusk/dawn hours unbearable, I've been stuck in collegiate hell for what seems like ages, my family is fucking crazy, my friends are fucking crazy, I'm addicted to Nyquil, I can't remember what sex feels like, all my clothes suck, my room is covered in shit, and I can't keep my underwear clean. I'm sure if I met Prindle on the street one day we could swap jerky greaseball phrases and argue about who was the most talented Ramone. "Not a chance in HELL, schmohawk..." (Jeff Blehar)
Hey! Great album! Turkington kicks F&$KIN' ASS! YEAH!

Okay, I've never heard the album, and I don't often comment to this site either, as I spend most of my record-reviewing time elsewhere on the web. But I've been faithfully following your "career" since all the way back in 1996, when I was but a wee li'l punk working in a law firm during my summer, desperately looking for something more interesting to do in my cubicle than legal research, so...

It takes a lot of courage to talk about your personal issues here, Mark - it's like somebody taking their clothes off in public and daring the world to look at them in all their ambivalent, unpleasant nudity (not that I'm suggesting you take your clothes off in public, tho' if you DO perhaps THAT is best kept to yourself). And because I respect that courage (you scoff, I'm sure, at the word, but 'tis so) immensely, I'll talk about me a little bit as well. As much as I can feel comfortable with, at least...for someone who generally keeps these things close to the vest, this is a big change of pace. Forgive me if I sound abrasive or defensive. There's nothing I fear more than public revelation - call me Johnny Reticent. And I just know someday I'll be enormously famous and I'll find these words reprinted in the National Enquirer, so for all you blue-haired ladies and scandal-mongers eventually reading this: FUCK YOU! ELVIS IS DEAD AND THE KENNEDYS HATE PEOPLE LIKE YOU!

That aside...

The personal history? Well, everyone's got a story, and here's mine: accidental child in a suburban family, horrifying parental problems that inevitably shaped my personality (they fought hideously over my fractious brother, and since I was the peacemaker I ended up reaping the whirlwind of hate blahblahblahihatetalkingaboutthisshit), and a severe sense of dislocation that has plagued me throughout my life. And of course, I was far, far, FAR too over-intellectual to fit in with anyone else in both middle school or high school. You knew me, I'm sure: I was that guy who sat in the front of the class and argued with the teacher who got a fact wrong, oblivious to the fact that he was acting like a complete asshole by doing it. At first I was just the stereotypical brainy guy to pick on; the only difference (and the one that probably saved my sanity) is that I FOUGHT BACK. Like a motherfucker. When you're not about to go throwing punches, you become excellent at slinging words and insults, and so I became Mr. Caustic, Johnny Acidic, the guy who you always felt was judging you when you were talking to him. And I was, really: there's nothing like being targeted due your intelligence to turn you into a bitter elitist. And a horrible cynic; my lack of faith in the "goodness of people" was absolute. Myself included: due to my reputation for withering sarcasm/honesty, people began to believe EVERYTHING I told them, no matter what. After all, if JEFF's saying it, then it must be his honest opinion - he doesn't hold back, does he? The corollary to this is that I found out how easy it is to lie to people, to get them to believe ANYTHING you say. It's so easy, it's all in the facial statement and the tone of voice. And thus, I would shamelessly manipulate - compliment the right people, even if I was lying through my teeth, and all of a sudden I'm in with them. So there I was: people started to like me and trust me and spend time with me because they though I was something that I wasn't; a convincing facade. Most people STILL don't realize it to this day.

Physically, I'm alright. When I was younger I was overweight, but the real problem was that I was extremely short, about 5'3''. T hen all of a sudden I erupted to 6'3'' without gaining any real weight - problem solved, more or less. I dress so as not to call attention to myself, and thus I look remarkably conservative - more button-down shirts than t-shirts in my closet by a 4:1 ratio.

I've managed to put forth an externally impressive career thus far - cushy government job, published writer for a Harvard journal of historical review, multi-instrumental musician/singer, in my third year here at Johns Hopkins University, well-read, articulate, perceptive, tall, dark, worldly-wise, etc.etc.etc. But it's all bullshit, frankly. I hate mentioning all these ostensibly "positive" aspects because (aside from the fact that it looks like I'm full of myself when I'm not) they mean almost zip to me: these things would be good if I was THIRTY-FIVE YEARS OLD. I'm barely past 19. So I have next-to-nothing in common with the people here at this school - my idea of fun is discussing the nature of human understanding (which makes me that pretentious prick that Ben would dislike, though not intentionally - I'm not trying to "front," it's just what I like DOING), or proselytizing about my music. "My" music. Notice that? It's personal for me, I've made it into a "Jeff" thing, especially because nobody here gives two shits about it. I mean, I have 2400 fuckin' CDs! And 56 boxed sets! And I BOUGHT ALL OF 'EM! Which is to say that music means so much to me because I've made it my chief focus, for better or for worse. And nobody cares a darn. I think that music-loving, in general, is a solitary obsession. Like Woody Allen in "Annie Hall," I just don't know how to have fun in the accepted sense of the word - getting drunk at an anonymous frat party and dancing ineptly to bad music is something I'm incapable of doing, and it puts me out of the loop here. So everyone respects my intelligence, and those who know me well respect my ability to give advice and understand people, but I'M NOT FUN. And frankly, that's all that really matters to me, so what good are those other things?

As for tragedy, I've suffered a small share of the genuine article, but calling it that just sounds pathetic: clinical depression is something I deal with, as well as OCD (yes, Mark, I KNOW that feeling very, very well, though I don't think I have it to the same extent as you). Furthermore: I'm a musician, I write, play, and most especially sing (semi-professionally), and music is my life in every way, shape, or form. So last Christmas I found out that I'm losing my hearing as a result of a genetic disorder and that within a few years I'll be completely deaf (there go my presidential hopes again). A few years. Damn. It's tough to think about, and I make it a point not to, because I hatehatehatehate self-pity and wallowing, which is just a defeatist cycle. In that sense I'm REAL iffy about mentioning this in front of [X] million people, since I don't want to look like I'm making some bold plea for sympathy. Spare me: I want your respect, not your pity.

Well that's what I have to say, I guess. It's a little incoherent, it fails to capture even half of me (for example, there's this real sincere puppydognaive romantic side of me that isn't covered, though perhaps it shows through in some of my reviews), and I probably sound like King Asshole. But what's there is true, and if it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me. (Martin Teller)
First of all, The Three Doctors suck, and Zip Code Rapists pretty much suck too. Music-as-comedy so rarely does it for me (die, Frank Zappa! oh wait, he already did) although there are exceptions (They Might Be Giants, some of the stuff by The Frogs, and if you catch me on the right day, Weird Al).

What's it like to be me? What am I gonna say, "it rules!"? Hell no, let me in on this self-pity-party! Seriously, I think everyone is kinda miserable with themselves in SOME way. It's the human condition. Pascal says that everything we do is an effort to avoid having to think about how fucked up we are. Sounds about right to me. Why else would I try to write my supremely awesome music reviews? Because the world needs yet another asshole with an opinion? Nope, it just kills the time until I get to shuffle off to the big sleep.

I'm essentially a loser. I take absolutely terrible care of my body. I smoke, I'm overweight, I never exercise. I don't shower, shave, wash my clothes, or cut my hair as often as I know I should. Once in a blue moon I remember to brush my teeth. Any ladies want to date me yet? I haven't even told you about the cyst above my ass that gets inflamed and leaks pus every couple of months (had it lanced like 7 years ago but it never closed up right). My wisdom teeth have been bothering me for YEARS, but I'm too lazy/scared to get them removed.

And that's just the physical stuff! Like Ben, I'm a lazy procrastinator. I skipped two days of work this week for no particular reason. Then I go in today and have to pretend like I'm getting over the flu. I do this kind of shit a lot, and I always feel horribly guilty about it. I lay in bed planning how I would react if my boss tried to prove I didn't have a good reason to skip work. Get this... I even brought ROBUTUSSIN to the office today and laid it conspicuously on my desk. This is how paranoid I am of losing my job, because the worst thing in the world to me would be having to find another one. But not paranoid enough to go to work when I should! Self-destructive, or just a fucking idiot? You be the judge. This leads me to another thing... like Ben said about himself, all my misery is my OWN DAMN FAULT. If I had some ambition and some self-respect, I'd be a lot happier and wouldn't make so many dumb decisions.

I'm getting near 30 (all you guys are so YOUNG!). I've had ONE girlfriend in my life. That's ONE (1). She was 13 years older than me, married, and we met (this is so embarassing)... on the internet. We lived together for about 5 months. During that time, she initiated a cyber-affair with someone even younger than me, I guess because I was so inattentive. Why was I inattentive? Even more embarassing... I was addicted to Diablo (computer game, if you didn't know). Not that this woman was my ideal mate, and not that she didn't behave very poorly (the mountain of lies she told me is staggering), but I fucked up the one thing I had wanted most in life for so many years... a relationship. I'm lonely, but anti-social. People kinda make me nervous until I've knwon them for a long time. I can never think of anything to say ("gosh, you're SO QUIET!" is a line I hear a LOT). And I don't want to be around people all the time. I need a lot of time to myself.

I don't spend my life constantly hating myself, though. I think I'm pretty smart... well, above average, anyway. (That's another thing that KILLS me... I want to be the BEST at something... no matter how smart you are, there's always someone smarter. In my case, there were always at least 2 or 3 people smarter. At least when I took some classes at community college earlier this year I was able to feel like a genius). I don't talk about things unless I know what I'm saying, which I think is a pretty damn admirable (and rare) attribute. Besides the lame excuses for skipping work, I RARELY lie. Dishonesty bugs me so much, it just makes me feel awful. I'm fairly good at making people laugh. So there's some stuff about me I like, and when I think about those things, I can be happy for a little while. I do spend an awful lot of time hating myself, though.

Umm, where am I going with this? I better wrap it up, I'm mega-rambling. What's it like to be me? Ehhh, it's okay. (Kevin Akstin)
Hey Prindle, congrats on getting engaged. Sorry your OCD gives you so much trouble, I suffer from obsessive thoughts sometimes myself, although it's not nearly as bad in my case. Anyway, my name's Kevin Akstin, and I'm a high school sophomore who just recently turned 16. While my life isn't exactly miserable, it's very unsatisfying at times. Schoolwork's generally a breeze for me, and I get mostly straight A's. But that's about the only thing that comes easily. I have a decent social life, I guess, but there's lot of people who are way better off than I am in that department. Girls in general don't take much of an interest in me, and I have only a couple of female friends. I honestly don't know what makes me so unappealing to the opposite sex. I don't know if it's my acne, or my social awkwardness, or what. I've never had a girlfriend, although last year, I did have a really good friend who was a girl. The catch: She got shipped off to a fucking Mexican boarding school over the summer! How do you like them apples? Her leaving left me so depressed, I was practically in a stupor, and I paced around the house for days in my pajamas. Finally, I managed to get away for a week to visit my cousin in Los Angeles (I live up in the San Francisco Bay Area), and while that trip certainly helped, I was back to moping pretty soon. Finally, when school started again, and I had nothing to do, I joined the cross-country team. It was difficult, even grueling, at first, but I made tons of new friends and wound up being voted Most Improved by my teammates. So right now, I'm doing a lot better than I was a few months ago, but things still aren't nearly as good as they could be. For one thing, I've suffered from low self-esteem for most of my life, mainly as a result of being ostracized when I was younger, and in spite of all the good things that have happened to me lately, I've still been doubting myself. Wouldn't you doubt yourself if, after the longest time, you finally found somebody who cared, and they turned out to be really screwed up? Maybe because you'd feel that being cared about by somebody with so many problems reflected badly on you? Anyway, I'm going through some real emotional ups and downs right now. In a nutshell, I feel like everything's fine one minute, and the next, I feel like everything's fucked. Like virtually all the people who've responded here, I find music is a great release for me. I mainly listen to metal, especially Slayer, Pantera, and old Metallica, but lately, I've been getting into some "goth" stuff like Joy Division and early Cure. Maybe it's because sometimes, I'm just as digusted and horrified by the world as Ian Curtis and Robert Smith were back then. After all, on a planet where war, genocide, and famine are practically everyday events, there isn't much to be optimistic about when you look at the "big picture". I'm deeply concerned about the future of this country, especially with the Religious Right seeming to gain power in recent years, and with more and more people apparently willing to sacrifice freedom for so-called "security". I don't speak up much about religion and politics with my family, with my friends, or elsewhere, because religion and politics are such controversial subjects, but I have at least some interest in both of them. Another thing I wanted to mention, I've now decided to trying acting, and I have a part in my school's production of "Oliver". Yes, it's a musical about a little orphan boy, and yes, I only have a minor role, but you've gotta start somewhere. Okay, I'm rambling now, so I guess I'll wrap this up by saying that freshman and sophomore girls who go after senior guys piss me off. Oh, yeah, and I sometimes talk to myself. (Adam Bruneau)
Three Doctors Band? Hmm....never heard of them, and frankly from the reviews piling up on this page I don't really have any driving ambition to seek out any of their albums, or even try typing their name again. But I wouldn't mind writing about myself. Hell, who doesnt? Aren't we all self-serving bastards with are heads up our anuses anyways? Isn't that the point of life?

I'm 19, currently a "sophomore in college", going to Gainesville University down here near Atlanta Georgia. I grew up in the deep south with two loving parents, both were artists, leaving a lasting impression on me to kind of follow in their footsteps. As a kid, my principle interests were playing my Atari 7800 (and this was even in the early 90's...), watching Voltron and Thundercats on afternoon TV, and reading books about the ocean and marine life. In the background, throughout my whole childhood, my parents spun records by groups like The Beatles and The Who, leaving each and every groove on the records permanently engraved in my brain. I was born with a hole in my art and had to have open heart surgery at a very early age, going in every now and then to have various needles and tubes plugged into my body for testing. I used to have a lot of terrible nightmares, most having to do with snakes and ocean creatures...

Early school life is kind of a blur for me. I recall that I was quite gifted, and semi-interested in the things that school was programming us to do. I had a couple of friends here and there but as I progressed through the school system, they became more selective. By the time I hit late middle school, I thought of myself as "supremely unpopular" and looking back on it I think I was. But that was okay, because I had my video games (designing levels for Doom) and music (which was fast becoming a new interest). I grew very uninterested in school and, since I didn't really have enough friends to contact troublemakers/druggies/punks/whatever, I kind of regressed into this world that I had built into my mind. At this point I think it's fairly relevant to point out that my father's family has a history of mental illness and I suffer from a constant nagging depression. At times it might get to be a little much, but mostly it brings me a kind of paranoid joy. Like when things are so bad you couldn't imagine them picking up, so you sort of laugh hysterically. Yah, that's it....

Anyways, by the time I was half-way through highschool I was listening to music, all kinds of music...virtually whatever I could find. At first it was the classic like The Doors and Led Zeppelin and then it was some modern underdogs like The Pixies or My Bloody Valentine, on to bands like The Flaming Lips, elephant 6 groups, Japanese pop, analog baroque, gameboy music, german drinking songs, polkas, easy listening, exotica, etc. etc. until it disintegrated into a giant fizz of white noise. At this moment I'm listening to Japanese noise act Violent Onsen Geisha, who have released a 45 with an X-rated cover, which features a tape of The Trogg's "Wild Thing" being fucked around with to the point of absurdity.

I was always a loser. I didn't get my drivers lisence till I was 18. I haven't been on an actual "date" in too many years to count. I live at home with my dad and have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do for a career or where I'm going. I have no religion. I'm dropping out of college in a couple of weeks. I've attempted suicide 5 times. Frankly, I'm scared shitless about George W. Bush become president....

But I DO have music and I DO have some friends that I occasionally hang out with and go dumpster diving with. I AM in a Ramones cover band that is OCCASIONALLY fun and I DO buy a couple lottery tickets every week. Lift yr glasses's to the American dream in action. (Steven Whitwill)
Don't wanna take up much space here (read into that what you will, e-shrinks!). Many of you have already summed up the general course of my own life, and you've said it well, so I won't bother you with much juiciness. Briefly: I'm 21 years old, a 4th year student at UC Santa Cruz, a Mark Prindle fan from the beginning (you've always had impeccable taste, Prind), an estranged Southern Baptist, a bassist, a believer in offensiveness for its own sake, a music editor for the biweekly Fish Rap Live! at UCSC, and a friend to many. I'm one of those fellas who, after trying sports, failing with women, disappointing my family with my refusal of religion, eventually came to music. My life is devoted to it in no small manner. I am a record nerd, although last year I sold my entire collection (a good friend compared it to the fall of the Roman Empire) in order to fund my life in a time of need. Of this I have no regrets. It seems like a certain type of masculinity popular nowadays revolves around storing up loads of obscure musical stuff (CD's, books, random obscure knowledge) and transmitting it to anyone within earshot. My record collection seemed symbolic of a vast chunk of time and effort I could have used to make friends, get in fights, live life. So I sold all of it, and now I have friends, get in fights at shows, and am definitely alive. I am originally from the town of Coalinga, CA. Yes THAT Coalinga, popularized by the Faxed Head, a Three Doctors-related project worth checking out. I've corresponded with Gregg Turkington as well, and lemme tell you he had me and my hometown pals fooled. We were always on the lookout for McPatrick Head. We finally decided he was the hesher dude who worked at the Round Table Pizza. If any of y'all are interested about the actual town itself as a result of the Faxed Head, this is all you need to know: the Fazed Head captured it perfectly. Check out the Amarillo records home page for more info.

The great bands: Big Black, TFUL 282, Galaxie 500, the Fall, Cocteau Twins, Birthday Party, Dinosaur Jr.

Prindle, this is an amazing idea. Congrats on your engagement, and suffice it to say you've influenced the past few years of my life a little too much (check out my reviews at, especially the older ones, and you'll notice some Prindle-isms). (Nick Karn)
I've been meaning to reply here for awhile, but it always seemed that I've been too lazy or off doing other things. Plus my computer's too damn slow! So much, in fact, that I'm not even using it right now, but rather the system at school. Just so I can get my point across more efficiently.

Anyway, I'm a 21 year old college student at a local community school in New Jersey, where I'm majoring in journalism. It's not too bad of an atmosphere here at all - everyone's very laid back, the classes are often interesting, and it's a nice area too. As far as my education goes, I'm doing decently but not nearly as well as I would like to because of my horrible procrastination habits which hit rock bottom in the spring of last year. Dropped a class in my major, failed another statistics class which was awful for me when it should have been one that I could have easily gotten a decent grade in. I've had this stupid problem since 7th grade - I can never seem to find the motivation to do school work, despite the fact that my parents being very upset with me and how I do affects my future, and as a result my grades suffer.

I always tend to do really well in fall classes, since I'm fresh off the summer and ready to do well, actually excited about school, and as the winter and spring periods come, I'm like, 'Who gives a shit?' and are more willing to put things off to do more entertaining things. It's terrible. I'm slowly attempting to conquer this problem, but I'm not exactly sure where it starts and how it is supposed to end.

As far as my personality goes, besides my procrastination problems my communication skills outside of the internet are absolutely abysmal. This might have had to do with my horrible lack of confidence in high school, which stems from some, uhh, physical problems I've had and have always had my entire life. For one, I was born with my left foot shorter than the other, so I walk with a limp and that foot in a crooked position. Secondly, I'm 5'6" but I only weigh about 115 pounds, due in part to my mild cerebral palsy and also due to the fact that I am an extremely picky eater. After a seizure I had when I was around one and a half, I decided subconsciously that I hated 98% of all foods in the entire universe.

As a result of this stuff (and my weird obsessive behavior and communication problems) you can imagine that high school was absolute hell for me to go through - and I didn't even have decent grades going for me. Luckily, I lived through all that, and am generally pretty happy with the way I am now. Sure, there's still some things in my life right now that really piss me off. I'm over 21 years old now, and I STILL haven't even been behind the wheel yet when it seems like EVERYONE around me is a driving veteran at this point, including my 18 year old brother. This has do to in part with my reflexes and attention span as well as the financial situation in the house, but as time keeps on passing I'm starting to believe that it ain't gonna happen for me. I also don't even have a job right now - something else that everyone around me seemingly has. I'm a full time student, and I'm encouraged to be that way probably because I have a three year scholarship going at this point, which I suppose is something to be proud of.

Also of note in my personality - I often experience a great amount of mood swings. One minute I'm all depressed, thinking there's hardly anything right going on in the world, the next minute I am absolutely the most animated and alive person around. Sometimes I have a bit of trouble expressing my emotions and what exactly it is I want to say, since I also have this tendency to want to get all of my personal feelings out (whether they are related to what I'm talking about) but at the same time I really want to keep my secrets and thoughts to myself, which presents an interesting contradiction. Sometimes I don't know whether to feel incredibly lucky about the opportunities our truly incredible present time gives to us or sad for how cruel life can be sometimes. But there is always one love that seems to keep me going.

Speaking of which, that love happens to be for music. And an obsessive one at that. Ever since I started watching MTV in 93 or 94 and listening to the radio (back when they were actually decent), I've been listening to this stuff constantly, building up my collection on what I liked, and what other people whose opinions I respect recommend. I also believe the internet is truly a godsend for finding out information about the great unexposed music that's out there (prog rock, for instance, my most recent absolute musical love). Review sites like these certainly help with guiding me to music that might be great, finding the best of the past and present. My proudest accomplishment at this point is marrying my love of writing with my love of music and creating a review site that I'd like to think is a nice contribution.

Don't even try to ask about other 'loves' though - I'm single, probably always will be. This presents another contradictory situation - I have an intense desire to be in love again (I've felt it before) but at the same time I seem to have no interest in an actual relationship, due to fear mostly. Fear of heartbreak, and the intimidation of someone actually accepting me for who I am - and being able to deal with it. That would just blow my mind.

In closing, Mark, I'd like to thank you for creating this great opportunity for therapy amongst the readers of the site (and congratulate you on your engagement)! Kinda proves you do in fact care about the readers, when at first it seemed like otherwise. (Zach English)
So I guess this is the inner "me."

The inner me placed that period before the second quotation mark because that's what he's been taught to do in journalism class. The inner me has watched the outer me get drunk six or seven times in the past few months, alone with no companion but Mark E. Smith. He hates alcohol (tastes rather like cough medicine) but he'll do whatever it takes to escape the kind of crippling boredom that accompanies nearly every moment of his day at school.

The inner me is going on a date with a girl he doesn't really like tomorrow night. He can't make conversation with her, or laugh at one of her jokes, but she's extremely attractive and a great kisser. He wishes he could find these two traits wrapped up in a single female but so far this search has not been fruitful. The inner me goes on lots of dates but has never been in love.

The inner me is going to a prestigious journalism school next year (Northwestern University) in an incredible, musically astonishing city (Chicago, home to people like Steve Albini, Tortoise, U.S. Maple and the one-time-greatest-band-on-the-planet, the Jesus Lizard). However, he hates school and feels compelled to scratch out the eyeballs of every interviewee he meets. The inner me has relinquished hopes of a career in rock criticism because Robert Christgau is a boring dickhead and Richard Meltzer only liked the Doors and the Stones, so visions of beaureacratic blowhards and finance scandals dance in his head as he starts to think about his future.

The inner me has problems, too. He's pretty much a lonely guy most of the time, even though he's surrounded by decent, honest, funny friends; this probably has more to do with his own anxiety and skepticism than with a predisposition for such behavior. The inner me can tell you all about Lee Ranaldo's hippy background but hasn't the slightest clue how to operate a balanced, reciprocal, give-and-take relationship with a girl. The inner me has a gaunt, emaciated appearance and is hesitant to take his shirt off in public. He loves punk rock but has not met one person in his four years of high school who can name a song by Black Flag, Minor Threat or the X-Ray Spex; as innocuous as this seems, being the one kid with different tastes makes everyone else think you're a snob. He even pisses off the remaining punks because his leather jacket clashes with their vegan ideals. The inner me has divorced, distant parents who want him to go to Brown University (because that's where his accountant uncle met the love of his life), but he enjoys peppering his conversation with "fuck"s and "cunt"s too much to go to an Ivy League school.

The inner me has been reading this site for about four years and has never found anything quite so funny, revealing or touching on it as this. So it goes...thanks all of you for writing these stories, they are quite entertaining and frequently very familiar. (Glenn Lester)
I feel bad even writing "Three Doctors reveiw" in the Subject Box of the email. I should be writing "Rambling Shit From Glenn" in there. I don't write to the ole Prindle site too often, but I did write the Weezer reveiw page. Anyway.

So I've got this normal life: 17-year old high school senior, born and raised in St. Joseph, Michigan, cool parents, a few hundred CDs and records, a beautiful girlfriend who would kill me if I let anybody in 'cyberspace' know her name (who will also be moving to her homeland of California next year for college which deeply saddens me, but is also an entirely different story that I don't feel like telling to a ton of people right now). Like Zach E. (read some Lester Bangs!), I will probably be attending Northwestern University next year and studying English. I am a good kid, I think: haven't ever been drunk, haven't used drugs very much, et cetera.

I bought two CDs this weekend: Something To Write Home About by The Get Up Kids and Very Emergency by The Promise Ring. After listening to both of them, I've decided this: Emo fucking sucks. Just look at the name: emo. Is it short for "emotion?" Or is it short for "Pansy punk rock that sounds more like Paul McCartney if he never slept and was in the Descendents and had lots of girl problems and didn't know how to write?" I've got to stop believing Alternative Press and CMJ NewMusicMonthly. Actually, I kinda like the Get Up Kids record, but the Promise Ring is the most generic 'pop-rock' I've ever heard!

Like many of the other teenagers who've written in, I have a lot of anxiety about the future. I don't know if I'm a good enough writer to write for a music magazine or to submit poems to tiny literary journals or to even teach writing. I can't imagine being away from my girlfriend for the rest of my life, I can't imagine working at a desk, I can't imagine doing anything else besides reading books and writing in 60 cent notebooks and listening to Fugazi, The Clash, Medeski Martin and Wood, Husker Du, Weezer, Radiohead, Pearl Jam, Sleater-Kinney, Sonic Youth, The Beach Boys, Modest Mouse, Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, Yo La Tengo.

Since I like to write poems and stuff, I'll end with one (even though I probably have absolutely NO right to do so):


The time I drove on Red Bud Trail with her at midnight,
dark trees sneaking along the side of the road,
her hand twisting the volume knob up,
June clouds hovering four feet above us.

When she rubbed her closed and tired eyelids
I looked over at her and my skin hung off my face,
my spine turned to juice, air ran from my fingers.
She opened her eyes slowly, and I turned away
fast, looked out the window at the trees,
the trees eating the June sky away slowly.

Oh yeah, and congratulations Mark on your engagement!!! (Zach English)
Hey Glenn,

Great poem! Hope we can hang out at NWU sometime...I used to be obsessed with Lester Bangs...actually I used to be obsessed with rock criticism in general, but at some point I just decided it was useless. I literally have no interest in that shit anymore, if I have a favorite 'critic' it's probably Mark...and I don't think he'd even classify himself as some dignified rock critic. I still think Lester was an incredible writer, but I'm just not interested in that form of literature anymore. For what it's worth, though, I think Greil Marcus was the most talented and the least full of shit. His book Mystery Train should be read by everyone here. (Sean Rodgers)
Well, I know nothing about the Three Doctors Band, I've never heard anything about them before I happened to visit this page. But since everyone seems to be talking about their personal lives anyway, I don't think people will mind. I don't even know WHY I'm sending this in- I'm a devoted reader of all the personal review sites on the Internet, but I've never actually worked up the courage to send comments to anyone regarding anything, let alone personal details. But since I'm sick and tired of working on an English paper about grotesqueness in "Gulliver's Travels," I'll take the plunge and send in this....rambling. Please ignore any attempt at structure. I'll just spill it out as it comes.

Let's start with the basics. I turn 19 on December 26th (yup, a Boxing Day baby. It's annoying), and I'm a first-year History major at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. I'm 5'10, brown hair, brown eyes, I tend to dress conservatively (khakis, button-down shirts, pullovers) I get decent marks, wear glasses, and frequently have my headphones blaring at full volume over my ears. Basically, if you were to walk past me on the street, you wouldn't notice anything about me. I don't stand out from the crowd. Music? I love music- that's why I spend hours reading pages on this site when I should be working on important stuff. But let's start at the beginning. I grew up with parents who were devoted fans of "golden age" rock and of classical music. Naturally I listened to what my parents listened to- right from the start, I loved to listen to The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Moody Blues, The Beach Boys, CCR. I also loved to listen to Beethoven, Gilbert & Sullivan, Handel, Stravinsky, Rachmaninov, and what have you. I hated the Beatles, though, for some inexplicable reason, seeing as they're now one of my all-time favourite bands. When I read John McFerrin's story of how he discovered the Fabs after ignoring them, I knew EXACTLY what he felt like....anyway.

This was the late 80s, though, and all of the aforementioned bands were not cool. No, since I did not listen to Vanilla Ice, MC Hammer, Boyz II Men, etc. etc. etc., I was NOT cool. Combined with the fact that I was very short, very quiet, very sensitive to ANY sort of criticism, real or implied, and that I spent all my time sitting around reading lengthy books, I was horribly teased by my peers about music. It wasn't so bad at first, but when I moved to Newmarket, Ontario in Grade 5...whoo boy. I got the shit beaten out of me on numerous occasions, and every aspect of my life only friends were my books and my classical music tapes. When a bunch of kids set on me one time in Grade 6 after school, beat me up, and kicked my books into a puddle, I cried my head off, not just because I had been beaten up, but because those bastards had ruined my books, too...I felt as bad as if a human friend had gotten the shit kicked out of him. I gathered them up, went home, and cried for a long while. Grades 5 through 8 were hell. Absolute fucking hell. I get by with a little help from my friends indeed.

Anyway, things got better, but not before in a desperate move to "fit in," I took the 50+ classical tapes that I had made and threw them all out, without exception. I spent Grades 8 to 10 listening to no music at all. At high school I found some good friends and I slowly started to be more confident about myself. Unfortunately I was still way too introverted and "weird" to be popular in any general sense, so I gradually resigned myself to be the quiet person in the back. Around age sixteen, I rediscovered my love of classic rock and classical music...and this time, my friends appreciated it, so now I didn't have to hide it favourite bands are The Beatles and Pink Floyd. Fairly mainstream, I know, but I don't give a shit. I did have a long paragraph explaining in excruitating detail how I ended up listening to The Wall and Abbey Road approximately 6000 times during my senior year of high school, but it got way too sentimental, so I will merely restate my great love for those happy-go-lucky Liverpudlians and for those moody, pretentious Floydsters.

Other than those two, my tastes are fairly diverse, from Dave Brubeck to The Clash to The Tea Party to Radiohead to The Flaming Lips to Wumpscut. I still love classical, especially baroque (Monteverdi, Scarlatti, Handel, Bach etc), I just don't listen to it as much because I listened to classical non stop for five or six years as an adolescent. Since I'm a cash-strapped college student I buy too many CDs for my own good (at least one every two weeks or so, more often two or three every two weeks), but I can't stop! I'm addicted, oh well.

After reading everyone's stories here, I discovered a few similarities...I've had my barrage of instability, nothing serious, just a lot of unresolved anger and bad feelings stemming from my shitty childhood. I've never fit in well to any sort of group...I always have problems speaking it seems, and unintentionally insult other people and myself, make unfunny jokes, and end up making a complete fool of myself. As a result, (although I do have friends) I don't spend a lot of time socializing. The one or two times I've been to a nighbclub I get claustrophobic, and most movies nowadays are shit. So I stay at home, throw on Meddle or The Bends or Rubber Soul, and surf the Net. I'm still really sensitive about criticism, although I'm not psychotic about it like I was during adolescence. This, combined with my nerdish nature, has led to a string of embarrassing failures with women, which I am sure some of you can empathize with. Let's just say that although I'm a fairly nice, and a fairly loving sort of person, I have NEVER had a girlfriend, or anything approaching a romantic relationship with a girl. I've got a fairly idealized notion of love...I can't just have a fling, the moment I get a crush on a girl I start thinking about marriage, kids, house, etc. etc. Arghh...this just makes me feel shitty, so enough about women.

I've made plans for a review website, but they were shelved after I got cold feet about it, and I discovered it is impossible to coast through university the way you can coast through high school. I tend to make big plans and then not follow through on them....tsk tsk. Maybe, one day, if things go right, you'll see a Sean Rodgers Album Review Site. Maybe not. I'd like to do it...but honestly, when I read something like George Starostin's site, I just freak out and think, how can I possibly compete with THAT? But since I've got four months off in the summer, and have no idea where I can work, I may have to occupy myself somehow. Perhaps after I complete my colletions of the Beatles and Floyd.

That's all I can think of right now...thank you ever so much for letting me have the opportunity to rant about myself. (A)
Well... I don't know how I'm supposed to approach this thing, if it's supposed to be a brief summation of my experience on Earth or simply whatever it is that makes me tick... You figure it out.

Hi, fellow OCD case!!! I have only recently found that this thing I have is indeed a certified medical condition, but thankfully it doesn't really interfere with my everyday activities, of which there are none at present time because I'm done with school, for this semester anyway. But it's like, yesterday, I spent about 3 hours just downloading Nintendo (the original NES) ROMs and played them into the wee hours of the morning. Yes, I'm that lame. The wonder that is me is also currently trying to wrap up this video tape trade, in which I shall get nice things like a Marduk TV broadcast and what have you...

I'm 20 and in Law School here in Lima, Peru, just trying to get ahead and become useful to my fellow men. Actually, I wanna be stinking rich. That's my motivation. $. And banging hot chicks. Which, luckily for me, I've been able to do somewhat regularly. Only been in love once, though, when I was 16, and I don't think I'll find any other girl like her for a while. Make that a long while. We could probably still be together if she didn't have to leave to her home country, since her father was a diplomat and she only stayed a year here... But things must happen for a reason. I guess that my main problem women-wise, is that I become a girl's friend too soon, and I usually get screwed because most girls don't go around and have sex with their friends. That's the situation I'm in right now with this girl I've had a crush on for a couple of years now: trying to move our relationship from simple friendship to something else.

Before being in love, though, I was a huge geek. Probably I still am an antisocial nerd, but I'm pretty good in hiding that (nerds, as a general rule, always have bad hair. My hair is long and curly, and when did you ever see a long-haired nerd?), I mean, I'm thinking I might be schizophrenic or something because I have 2 big groups of friends/people I hang out with: college people, who are social and friendly and go out a lot, and band people, who are reclusive misfits like myself. I have a band, mind you, and we've had a minor radio hit this last winter (July for you U.S. types), which was unprecedented here, for being a completely DIY punk band with a recording budget of about $80. That's what the record costed to make, and voila, we've more than recouped our expenses. Bunch of CDs came from that money, which is my OCD speaking again: once I get cash I have the urgent feeling to blow it all on music. The results?? Over 250 CDs, about a hundred video tapes and some tapes/vinyl/blah. In the near future I'm also hoping to make a record with my 12-piece noise orchestra. That should be really sweet, a very cathartic thing. Speaking of music, on my 5-disc CD changer right now I have these: Ved Buens Ende - Written in Waters (weird black metal), D.R.I.'s Dealing with It, Mr. Bungle's California (I wrote the Bungle review page thingy you have here, in case you haven't figured that out yet), Type O Negative's The Least Worst Of, and Tom Waits' Black Rider. The last movie I saw was Magnolia which was fucking awesome, and on the book front, I just finished a Kurt Vonnegut omnibus thingy I found at my college library, and am currently re-reading Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy. Really looking forward for the movie.

Not that any of this matters in the slightest bit.

But back to the geek thing, I guess that all changed in early 1996, when I met this girl who changed my outlook in life, or sort of: now I don't feel like killing myself all the time. Just a few times in a week, but that's a huge improvement. With that, I became more and more self-confident as time passed, and I was even allowed in the "cool" group of people in my senior year!! With whom came such sweet things as drug abuse!!! Used to be a huge pot smoker back then. Now, I only have a puff every two months or so, and that's stretching it.

My father should probably smoke some pot. But that's because he has brain cancer, which he was diagnosed with only this last september. His outlook isn't bright, but it isn't that dark either, it's like a 50-50 thing, but thank the-powers-that-be he's not feeling too much pain, which is always good to have in a sick person. The downside is that his behavior has sort of changed, he's acting a lot like a small child in a lot of ways, and he's only very recently started to say nonsense stuff, getting things mixed up, and shit like that... My best friend's parents both died of cancer, and it was a horrible thing to see. I just hope that my dad doesn't suffer throughout whatever time he has left. Because of that, you could say I'm minorly depressed right now, but it's not as bad as it would have been, say, 5 years ago. But anyway, family wise I know I was dealt a pretty good hand, compared to most people I know/have heard of. My dad is, and I'm not saying this because he's ill, an amazing, honest person, and my mom is like, the most excellent human being there ever was. I know I got a lot of my personality/temper straight from her, and I'm grateful for it, because she taught me to treat people like they deserve to be treated, not equally.

My future??? I'll be happy if I get to move on a comfortable apartment, with my girlfriend or whoever I'm on a relationship with at the time (I don't believe in marriage. For me anyway. But good luck on yours!), making good money, working on this firm I'm hoping to get into this january as an internship (paralegal?) and just generally living my life under my terms. You could say that's my own personal nirvana. (Joe H.)
I guess ill contribute, not that it matters. But anyways im an 18 year old still living at home, in New Jersey, and out of school looking to persue a musicial career of some sort. I just really like music, i like listening to it and playing it more than anything else and thats what id love to do out of anything else.

I really admire Prindle with these here reviews of these great bands that i really love myself. I think we have similar music tastes. Im always clicking on some band i havent really heard much of yet once in a while on his site and then checking a little bit of them out and really getting into them. But before i came across his site, it was kinda harder for me to get into some of these bands that i now love. And i love his writing style and even his own music is very creative. Prindle is a very great guy. I know im just one of many people on this site who feel the same way as I, but i just felt that i had to write my admiration for him.

But anyway, not much to say about my own self, besides that i play drums, guitar, bass, and i really try to write some decent songs. I dont have a band yet, but i just constantly write music and eventually plan to have a band. Prindle actually reviewed some of my early work i did years ago, back when i was listening to too much Nirvana, so much to the embarressing point where my music would sound way too much like them. But that was years ago, and now ive been more inspired by great bands like Flaming Lips or XTC, and my songwriting has became a bit more diverse. But i hope to be a successful songwriter in the future.

As for the OCD thing, i had a old girlfriend who had that same thing. She didnt elaborate very much on it, but she had some weird personality disorder. She would pretty much push me away if i got too close, and she eventually dumped me in the process in to where i have no interest at all to have a relationship, which scares me cuz i know i do want one, but i just dont trust anyone anymore. I am too sensitive and i get too close. I read something about how Mark Prindle said that he gets attatched to people he admires so much that he keeps emailing and emailing to the point where hes afriad that they probably want him to leave them alone, and i am the exact same way. I get too attached to people i admire like that, but since i dont have OCD, i can control that obsessive urge. I really would like to talk more to Mark, but since im just a regular visitor to his site, i just dont wanna bother him (i already sound like a stalker on this rant im posting, im sorry). My ex girlfriend s! aid she had some kinda weird fas ination with Vomit, caused by OCD for some reason, too, which i thought was pretty fucked up.

Since this is getting lengthy, ill close out by saying, Congrats on your Engagement, Mark, and i hope that you cope with your OCD alright. I know how horrible it must be for you. And plus, once again, i really love your reviews, and you seem like a great guy, and your music that ive heard also sounds very great. Keep up the good work bud. (Keith Turausky)
I realize I'm way late in the game here, but I just read every single word of everyone else's comments, so there's no way I'm not gonna say anything.

I'm almost 25, which I guess makes me an old man on this site. Like many of you, I am a "professional writer" with strong musical inclinations. Currently, I work a low-paying but extremely comfortable (read: lotsa free time) job as the editor of a Tucson-based food magazine. I wouldn't mind being a music critic someday but my priority right now is on becoming a rock star, because if I don't do that soon, it's safe to say I never will. As Prindle and others have pointed out, most of the greats were dead at 27, so that doesn't leave much time!

So… let's get to the juicy stuff. About the time I started being able to remember things, I also developed an as-yet-undiagnosed condition that causes me to roll my head about in a manner often compared to Stevie Wonder. A pre-med in college speculated that it was some sort of inner-ear-related balance problem, and that seems likely, since I've also always had a real problem with falling over.

Now, the head-spinning thing has gotten better over the years, partly because I don't do it as much, partly because I'm not as bothered by knowing I do it, and partly because, as I got older, people became slightly more polite about pointing out such things. But even as late as senior year of college I had a beautiful girl approach me and ask, ever so sweetly, "why do you do that thing with your head?" Talk about wanting to just curl up and die!!!

Combine these quirks with freakish skinniness (I was 5' 11", 105 pounds when I left for college, though I've since fattened myself up on beer rather nicely) and a borderline-clinical lack of gross motor coordination and you've got your basic recipe for alienated-kid. I was completely inept at sports from day one, owing not only to my klutziness but also to a lack of depth perception stemming from an early case of "wandering eye" ("ambliopia" is, I believe, the technical term). I was too far gone to even think about Little League; in fact, I usually whiffed at t-ball. Every time I kicked a soccer ball, it would go backwards over my head; I can't dribble a basketball and run at the same time, etc. etc.

I was always a pretty smart kid anyway, apparently, but as time went on and the physical performance gulf widened between my peers and me, I became completely intellectualized (I always loved dodgeball, but they stop playing that once you get to junior high). I took correspondence PE in high school, for God's sake, and even then I lied about how much exercise I was doing.

Now, of course, I'm "grown up" and never have to physically exert myself ever again, if I don't want to. And frankly, I don't want to, though I know my lifespan will be shorter and more miserable for it. But I cannot even imagine going to a gym or any place where somebody might see me exercising---it's just too much for me. Even if I'm just walking around somewhere and I hear people laughing, I get tense and assume they're laughing at my physical appearance---even though I consciously know how unlikely and weird that would be.

Well, I was going to touch on such issues as creativity-driven manic depression and the emotional scars of having both my high school girlfriends leave me for best friends of mine (and, of course, my best friends leaving me for my girlfriends), but I've gone on long enough… Let me close with something positive: all you people who are younger than me who have done all this great stuff, goddamn, good for you! You shouldn't feel so bad; I only wish I had been hip and "proactive" enough to be into Lester Bangs back in high school…
What is it like being me, well I am a horny adolescent boy with no direction in my life but ya know what that is the only life I know and I am proud of it. Although I do have loads of problems I know I'm getting better. I consider myself to be very smart I talk a lot (I'm can be very quite at times). I live in suburbia, and it is hell, school predicable as this is, is complete hell. I am extremely paranoid (I am giving no more information because of that) and I can become unhealthily obsessed with stupid things, I am a songwriter that writes surreal lyrics with no meaning that lack a real melody (o. k I'm more of a poet) I am extremely pretenses. I know compared to several of you guys I didn't give much but I didn't want any one to track me down and kill me.
Whats it like to be me huh? Lets run through a typical week. Well I usually wake up at 6:05 on weekdays, shower and get dressed- can't eat though- Im usually violently ill in the mornings for some reason ( no Im not pregnant- Im not even a forken woman!). I leave for school at 6:40 to get there by about 7-7:10ish depending on highway traffic- sit through english, spanish 4, psychology, chem 3, history of the americas, calc, and PERSONAL GOD DAMN FITNESS which is PE with goddamn stupid ass busy work out of a stupid ass book. I get home and do some hw- usually talk to my girlfriend for hours and hours and hours. Shes the highlight of my life and I love her very deeply. I spend all day after school friday, all saturday, all sunday, and any holidays with her. She is absolutely the best! She takes such good care of me! I dont even deserve her. She listens to all of my old ass punk music and doesnt complain one bit- even through Misfits, Minor Threat, DK and all that shaz if thats any indication for you. I just got into college recently, the University of Florida- Honors College to major in aerospace engineering (I know its hard but its not rocket science- oh wait! Yes it is!). All in all I have a pretty good life. My only problem is I have to do a bit of work comming up soon- internal assessments for IB are due- then IB exams start may 3rd- from then on its 3 weeks of 4 hour exams every day. Shouldnt be tooooo hard though- then its off to the summer to get a job and harrass my girliefiend some more. All in all I have no right to complain about anything. My girlfriend more than makes up for anything wrong, and theres not much wrong to begin with.
Hello MARK (or so i have gathered...)!!!!

First off, i wonder how many people actually respond to something like this, you should let me know sometime. I only h appened upon this article surfing the web for stuff about the album, and am replying to it only because i loved it so much. Obviously because i'm one of those demented kids that loves relating to things...

Right now i'm one of those new-wavers, an impressionable while stubborn little 17-year old enjoying a Freshman year at Claremont McKenna College while trying to hold onto all my straightedge lifestyles. I am of course real izing how much college parties suck when you don't drink, and how lonely college nights are without random girls. You should cross your fingers for me.

Alkaline Trio is my favorite band over here, so i was very excited about Skiba's new upcoming album, whereas i had only heard of 7 Seconds, never any of their stuff. I was pretty pleased with it and all... i'm still confused as to why people just can't keep writing as go od as songs, and though Matt Skiba kept it up for a while, i'm of the opinion that its starting to slope downward a tad. It still made me flutter inside however, and i happened to think Seconds' more poppy stuff was kinda catchy too, even if not quite up to the skiba quality (i do agree that the soul to keep cover is the best song on the split).

So yeah, just wanted to say that you made me happy for a few minutes and wouldn't mind any band recommendations / elder wisdom you would happen to want to send my way. And whats with you and all your crappy Braves? Just wait 'til next year when everyone is jealous of how great of a boost chris stynes, delino deshields, todd hundley, and joe girardi provided these cubbie youngsters. (Zach Smith)
Hi, I guess I should get on this too... I'm Zach Smith, a 15 year old from St.Louis Missouri. I'm not a huge loser, I have a lot of "popular" friends, and I'd have a girl friends if I didn't have my problem. I'm in complete denial. Everytime a girl even just says hi to me, I blank out. Completly. "Hey Zach" "huh?" I'm not suprised, I hate myself. So much. So very much. Anyway, I'm working on my hard physics homework which i'm sure starostin could help me out with being such a genius and all. How the hell does he know so much english? LOSERLOSERLOSER. Sorry, I do that sometiLOSERLOSERLOSERmes. Geez. Anyway, I think I've done enough complaining about my AwLOSERful life. So gooLOSERdbye,

Adam Hammack
What's it like being me?

I'm twenty-two and I live with my fiancée Jacqui in Jackson, MS, which is a truly boring town but not as awful as I always make it out to be. I work the graveyard shift (SPOOOOOKY.....) in the operations center of a regional bank, currently as the mainframe operator in charge of running the nightly account updates. As such, I sit in a climate controlled, bright white room (exactly 73 degrees and 10% relative humidity) for upwards of eight hours a day by myself, which has in some part contributed to my current obsession with becoming one of the small elite corps of "Prindle-Completists" who have read every single frickin' word on this site. (Thanks for coining that phrase, BTW, Mark. You're like Jesus to us.) It has also kind of made my life weird (the schedule, not reading this site), because I'm living on the exact opposite schedule as Jacqui. When I get home from work, she's waking up to get ready to leave. We get to spend about an hour together, then she's gone. I usually drink for a few hours (Johnny Walker Red is my current favorite), smoke a few cigs, then go to sleep. By the time Jacqui gets home, I've usually only been asleep for four or five hours, so she has to just kinda sit around for awhile until I'm ready to wake up. Tonight, I didn't get up until like 10:00pm, and I had to be at work at 11:00, so we hardly got to see each other at all today. And I have to work tomorrow (X-Mas Eve) as well.


I mean, er, humbug.

Anyway... My parents are both still alive, but for me to only be twenty-two years old, they're getting on up there in terms of age. They're both in their early 60's, so that kinda worries me a little bit. Every time I ask my dad to do something like work on my car, I worry that he's gonna keel over while he's doing it, but if I take it to a mechanic he complains about how much it costs and that he could've done it better and cheaper. Oh, and Dad is an atheist/agnostic (much like myself; I'm a humanist), and my Mom is sort of a non-practicing Christian, but to her credit she doesn't really believe that anybody's gonna go to hell that's a good person. Although on a purely philosophical level this whole situation has kind of bothered me, especially back when I was an idealistic teen really pissed off with my Christian Academy, I don't let it get to me any more. Mom doesn't try to convert me, and Dad and I are respectful of whatever she wants to believe. Jacqui and I try to go see them once a week or so for dinner at their farm out in the boonies. I have a large extended family on my mothers side, (she had two sisters and five brothers, all of whom have had kids and grand-kids), some of whom are beginning to get ill and have to go into nursing homes. That's been tough on my mom, but she's been handling it really well. I love them alot, and I really worry about how well I'll be able to get along when they're gone. As much as I hate to admit it, having lived away from them for several years now, I really do rely on them for alot of things still.

I like to think of myself as a songwriter and musician, although my biggest strengths really lie in poetry and singing, and the lack of talented musicians in the area who are interested in the same genres that I am has kept me from performing much in public so far. I've recorded two album with a friend of mine using a multi-track recording program on my PC, but I don't really want to pursue getting them published because I know that he wants to do more of a rock-star thing, touring 40 weeks a year and such, and I see myself having a nice studio close to my house and mostly writing and recording my own material for albums and such. Not that I don't like playing with him or playing with a band (I'd love to have a backing group), I'm just not interested in going on the road as "The Eclectric Rock Show". I'm just to much of a home-body for that. That leaves me kind of just waiting for awhile, until I can get enough money to either have a big enough room in my own domicile where I can set up a mini-studio, or afford to rent a building for one somewhere. I don't worry too much about it though, because I truly feel I am talented enough to write songs that people will want to hear, and I am optimistic enough (naive enough) to think that I'll be able to find some sort of label to distribute me.

As far as personal minutia and trivial preferences: I really enjoy good animated shows such as "The Simpsons", "Family Guy", "South Park", and most of the stuff on Adult Swim. I really like that comic strip "Calvin and Hobbes". As far as "real" books go, I mostly read light fare like Douglas Adams and Garrison Keillor. Occasionally I like to play a good computer game when there's nothing better to do. I enjoy almost all types of music, although most R&B, Hip-Hop, and Country mostly irritate me these days. (However, I kind of like Alicia Keys, Jurassic Five, and Lucinda Williams respectively from those genres...) The bands that I really dig combine complex ambient textures with interesting song-structures, stuff in the veins of Radiohead I guess, but I also can get down with noisy (Pixies) and chill with the chilled (Eno). Like Mark, I write music reviews, but unlike Mark I usually don't say "Poop" in them. Other than a few little casual comments to his pages I haven't tried to compile them anywhere yet. I have a kitty named Daphne who is a boy. Luckily nobody has told him yet that Daphne is supposed to be a name for girl-kitties.

Problems? Issues? Okay, there's a few. Some of them I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss as I am using company equipment to send them. (Onitered-ma, for all you pig-latin aficionados.) Some of them I wouldn't want to put out in a public forum because someone I know might see them and become offended. (Yeah right. Like anyone I know reads this non-sense. What's a 'Three Doctors Band'? HA!)

But in the spirit of the discussion, I will say that I think I sort of suffer from some of the psychological maladies that Mark often mentions, but not as badly as he and my fiancée do. The OCD, for instance -- I have recurring, almost sub-conscious images that pop into my mind of various injuries happening to my genitals (accidental cuts or crushed gonads and such) and I don't really know why they're there. I'll just be sitting around reading, and in the back of my mind I'll see some myself getting injured. They don't overwhelm me or make me go nuts or anything (pun really was un-intended, I swear...), but I wonder why they occur all the same. I also get a little discouraged from time to time, and I tend to try too hard to please everybody. Jacqui, though... Reading Mark's comments up there really drove home a point for me: when she acts like no matter what's going on in the outside world, everything inside just makes her incessantly sad and worried, she really can't help it. Neither can I. I do like he says Brenda does for him and console Jacqui and do nice things for her and tell her everything will be better later, but it can really get to me. I can't help but think that it's partially related to something I'm doing or not doing, and then I start obsessing about that. We've talked about it alot, and we're both trying to think more about the way we act toward each other, so I've been feeling alot better about it.

What else? I have a tendency to over-do it with the sauce (and other things on occasion as well), but as Mark's many hilarious reviews written with his cohort Jack Daniels prove, drinking is an absolutely harmless vice. Mark drinks. Why shouldn't I? (PS -- Don't jump off a bridge, Mark. I'm afraid of heights, but I would indeed be compelled to follow. I'm a sheep and you're my shepherd. Love you Mark.) Drinking is seductive to me for some reason, even though I have a really bad acidic stomach and take three different medicines every day to make it feel better. I tell myself that the alcohol is not causing the problem, and truthfully it's not completely to blame, but still... Coffee was also really bad, and I've quit drinking it for the most part. And liquor doesn't really hurt me too much when I'm drinking, unless I really over-indulge, but later it makes me feel shitty. So I'm trying hard these days to not drink much during the week, and also trying to eat better, and hopefully I won't die too soon. Oh, yeah, and like I said earlier, I smoke five or so cigarettes a day, so come to think of it I probably will die too soon.

At this point in my life the most apt description of myself is thus: a searching, creative individual trying to figure out the best way to make good on his ambitions and to create a happy and comfortable life for himself and his loved one. I do not always feel good about my individual minutes or hours or days, but over-all I feel like I am working towards something worth living for, so the monotony and struggle of daily life do not weigh me down too much.

Plus, if I'm really bored and at my wit's end, I can always go back and read the Zappa page again. That's a great way to get through a crappy week at work. (Eddie)
So what I do is pick a weird band name I've never heard of, click on it, and prepare for more Prindle adventure. Holy shit. What is this? Man, I swear all us people must be kindred spirits or something. I hate to sound cheesy, but I saw a lot of myself in Mark's and almost every reader's comments. I'm approaching 27, and I too just get that shitty sinking feeling that my life's going nowhere. I also daydream way too much ie: movie storylines, bands and songs, etc., which I think gives me impossible hope on things. My job has me working by myself for 8 hours, so I have way too much time alone with my thoughts during the day. I think it's unhealthy at least for someone like me.

Anyways, my knee jerk reaction is to always say "Hey man, you're talented, you have this cool website, you're engaged (or married by now. How late am I to this whole thing??), you have a good job, etc etc etc..." but then I realize that people have been telling me the same thing forever too, and dammit it doesn't make me feel better. I think what helps is when you encounter something when you least expect it, like the stuff everyone wrote on this page. That's when you realize, to quote a famous pedophile, that "you are not alone."

Damn, I've been going to this site and buying CD's based on reviews for so long and this is only like my second comment. I hope you don't read this on a day when you're feeling good and here I go bringing this shit up again!

So who the hell are the Three Doctors Band anyway?
OKAY! I am perdo andino and who the fuck are the 4 doctors? I was born in 1971. eat cock greensteen! I graduated In chicago and my tastes grew so much I can name all of the people I have in my collection: yes, marvin gaye, rush, the clash, pearl jam, red hot chilli peppers, sonic youth, smashing pumpkins, steve vai, jimi hendrix, santana, u2, hootie and blowfish! eagles, kiss, styx, merril bainbridge, the who, eve's plum, genesis, prince, todd rundgren, kansas, pink floyd, madonna, spin doctors, bruce spingsteen, bob dylan, elp, jane's addiction, queensryche, van halen, sugar ray, will smith, beastie boys, utopia (also todd rundgren), audioslave, rage against the machine, phil collins, john lennon, the stones, metallica, led zepplin, blue oyster cult, the doors, elton john, joe satriani, R.E.M. beck, bjork, outkast, aerosmith, heart, jeff beck, bee gees, 13 cats, the raveonettes, fu manchu, no doubt, charlotte chruch yeah yeah yeahs, and incubus. damn what a list that was! at least I am the most free spirited of them all when all ya'll are angry or whiny like the faggot uk punk lovers or the gay assed rappers or teenybop cunts who eat cock! anyway I am really in love with prog and did not care for any 3 minute radio pop at all. I am really in love with anime except on the flaming lips page. fuck off fags! anyway I loved it to death from robotech to ghost in the shell, to flcl and so on. disney sucks cock! ok adam, now you know why you hate likin fart I agree with you! now I have a wife named josie masters and all this tifa lockheart talk I was talking about was that I nicknamed hear cuz final fantasy is a better game than fucking halo! gotta wrap things up! and still WHO THE HELL ARE DA 5 DOCTORS???????????????!???!!?!??!.
This will be useless, but I read Mark's site a lot...not only his reviews but the comments he "dutifully posts" (that's a quote from his Wikipedia page, when he had one) as well, so I'm gonna send one in. I like the idea it's posted somewhere, in a dusty corner. I'm not very interesting so I will ask anyone who's reading up to this word right HERE to think whether you have anything better to do.

My name is Andrew Moncrieff and I'm about to turn 22. I've only been with one girl and that sexual-friendship is really my only serious intimate relationship with a member of the opposite sex (and I don't mean intimate as a euphamism for sex). Most of the time I really just want the intimacy and could live without the sex.

I just finished my University course. It was for a BA Hons degree in Film & Video and I was/am a pretty lousy filmmaker. I barely passed, ultimately being 'awarded' a "degree without honours". I avoided telling my parents for as long as possible, ashamed as I was, but when they eventually learned the truth yesterday their reaction was unexpected: my dad, beaming, said "well, it's a degree!" and my mother drunkenly mentioned she "didn't think [I]'d finish at all". In a way this is worse, but their lack of faith in my abilities isn't news to me and I am just glad they're not disappointed. In fact, my dad says he's going to buy me a 16mm film camera to celebrate. This is great, I'm really happy about it. I'm watching a lot of movies I like that were shot on 16mm in standard spherical lense...Deadbeat at Dawn, The Deadly Spawn (those two rhyme!), Combat Shock, The Evil Dead, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.

Of course, while I do still have a passion for filmmaking, the big turn in the last few years for me is that I'm more enamoured with music. With my student loan I purchased a Fostex MR-8HD 8 track digital multitracker which I'm having a lot of fun playing with and learning how to record with. I'm kind of entertaining the dream of getting to be a good recording engineer in the distant future, while recording my own stuff in my spare time. My notable handicap of not being able to write songs isn't holding me back and, at the moment, I'm really just having fun with the whole thing. It's a nice distraction.

But that's the problem really, all of this is just a distraction. I know I have problems that keep me from enjoying life.I, like Mark and a few others here it seems, have ADD though I do not have it in a crippling capacity...since I was young I have certain things I have to do...if I clip my ankle or hand or whatever on the edge of something, it must be repeated to couple the event with another. If the second time is different feeling, I have to repeat it immediately, then take another swing at the original contact, thus closing the circle. I also used to have to step an even number of times on every drain I walked over,but now I don't feel the compulsion.

My depression comes and gos...often I can ignore it. Depressingly (no pun intended), I find it much easier to ignore when I am alone. When I am out with friends, or merely "relaxing" in their company, I get no relief. I was on Citalopram, which is the training wheels of SSRIs I believe, for about a year. Felt better, but stopped as of Nov last year and feel the same as before now.

The aforementioned lone girl I was intimate with told me my problem was that I push people away. That was in 2005, when we had our month long sexual liason. (I haven't had sex in 4 years, do I revert to virgin now?) As recently as a month ago, one of the guys I was living with told me he didn't "get me" and that I "liked being miserable".

I just don't find solace in alcohol and shitty music the way they do. Besides, I'd rather "FEEL LIKE SHIT" than be "FULL OF SHIT" :/

I can't really figure out how to be happy and that's really my only ambition now. I don't really care about anything else other than being happy. Loneliness can really drain you of your energy. I can't speak for anyone else, but I attribute most of my bad habits and feelings to loneliness. My endless talking to myself in conversations with people who aren't there (which doesn't even scare me anymore), my slowly rising and scarily antagonistic feelings to the opposite sex and my deeply cynical outlook I blame on it. They all probably help cause each other as well.

Anyway I think that's my story. OH and also I have really bad posture, that affects my low self-esteem. I still think of myself as a hunchback because I used to get called it quite a bit in secondary/high school.

Paul D.
First, I don't know jackshit about the Three Doctors Band, and I kinda hate Trey Spruance (probably because of FNM - I fucking hate Faith No More!). But, obviously, I'm not here to write about that... *sigh*

It's fucking awesome to have so many people expressing themselves (in such a random fucking artist page). I honestly read all of the mails prior to mine, and it's... great, it feels good. Really. So, cheers, Mark. I really like you and your page. I spend about a (an?) hour reading your site daily. I've discovered a lot of great bands thanks to you! I'm really into noise and hardcore... whatever, here goes my attention-whore-ish self-biography:

I live in Chile, a small-ish country in South America, and thus, I speak Spanish, not English. But I've been on the internet since I was about eight years old, so that's why I... well, know English. Talking about age, prepare for the big fact: I'm fourteen. 14 years fucking old. I'm a kid, and I hate it. To be honest, I kinda shiver right now, writing this in a Word Archive thingy. I've never really liked... uh, expressing myself so publicly. So I'm 14 (well, almost fifteen... but meh), male, pretty much an albino, I'm tall and skinny as fuck, I have brown(ex-blonde(?)) hair, and I hate to comb it. I don't know. I often have this feeling of superior-ness, I guess... Sometimes I think I'm the only one who's self-conscious at this so-fucking-young age. I see pretty much everyone just having fun and always smiling, going to parties, and I hate it. I've went to really few parties ever, and I can't fucking enjoy them. I always see, I don't know, the girl I feel attracted to at the moment hugging some other guy, or I don't know what to say in conversations... I'm just socially weird. My childhood best friend (from years 8 to about 11) was one of those persons that you just admire, like your heroes. But then, when I was 11, he moved away to a different city and I see him only one time a year since then... It's kinda sad, but it makes these meetings much, much more special and nice. So here I am. In my grade there's a bunch of persons like me, though, and it feels really nice (my two school-mates; we play and cover, I don't know, Big Black or Nirvana or Pixies, or we study together - it's nice). Everyone dislikes me in my school, though. There's really few people that talk to me. Though, I kinda prefer that to being the popular kid. Fuck that. And yeah, I'm quite depressive. I'm one of THOSE teenagers.

I don't know why. I'm currently feeling really bad and guilty, because seven months ago, one of my schoolmate's younger brother's girlfriend (is that understandable?) kissed me, and almost all things in my life have been going downhill since then. Everyone knew about it, and I was the asshole. I kinda felt attracted to her sometimes; she's pretty, she likes Nirvana (to be honest, there's REALLY, REALLY FEW people in my school that don't listen to rap or reggaeton (a silly genre with all lyrics 'bout fucking and sex)), and she's... fuck, I can't believe I'm talking good things about her. Next topic! Fuck, there's no next topic. Uh... My first kiss shouldn't have happened, and that feels really weird. I just want time to pass quickly; I wanna look at the past and laugh at myself for being so silly.

To be honest I have a fine life. I have quite good grades (the grades go from 0,0 to 7,0 over here, and I have a 6,6, which is pretty damn good), my family is... decent, though my 30-year-old brother (my dad is 65, my mother is 56) is like, brutal and bad-tempered, he always creates tension in the house. But when he's not here, we're all nice. Like most of you, I found my home at the music world. I've been playing bass and guitar for a few years now. One day I discovered Nirvana, and they opened my eyes to a ton of other related artists. Big Black/Rapeman/Shellac, Scratch Acid, Ramones, DRI, Pixies, I don't know. I love music.

I... have irritable bowel syndrome. I have it since about 9 months ago, and I'm already used to it. A few months ago, sometimes I would cry about it; not because of the pain, but because it's really annoying and it gets you down. But I don't care about it anymore.

I just want time to pass quickly, I wanna be older, and I wanna know where my life is going to, what's it going to be like, and such things. I hate being so self-pitying, I feel bad somedays because of nothing in specific, I just feel bad and lonely with no goddamn reason.

Cheers, Mark. There's a lot of people that love your site. Cheers to everyone else who's taken the time to write here (I've been writing this mail for about 40 minutes now), it was really nice to read all those mails. I guess we're not alone.

Nathan Leveille
Hrm. I've been making my way through the amateur reviewing corps for awhile now. The end-of-summer blues hit me this week and I made it a mission to make it through the complete (Because if I read the entirety of Starostin one more time I'm afraid I'll be able to recite it from memory). So far I've made it up the third column all the way from 'Z' to Three Doctors Band, a music-making group of people I neither know nor care that much about and will probably never listen to, but I have to read it because hey Mark Prindle wrote it and everything he writes is interesting and I enjoy all the little different techniques and styles he uses to break up the tedium of reviewing bands that no one is familiar with.

So I'm reading the comments section kind of absent-mindedly when I realize that THESE PEOPLE ARE DESCRIBING EXACTLY HOW MY LIFE IS. 20-ish college student, smart, track record of not totally dicking around all the time but also not having any idea where his life is going and hating himself for it. I still feel shitty after having read them, but I feel shitty in company with others, which almost helps.

You know that girl in Mean Girls who talks about how she just wants everyone to get along and like bake cakes together or whatever and then the gay guy says "she doesn't even go here"? That girl is me.

Also did you ever have that conversation with a parent or someone else you trust where you try to tell them how much you suck at everything and they, in their greater wisdom, won't let you because they know that you as a young person under the pressure of civilization or whatever is supposed to have all these doubts and fears and that you're going to emerge from it someday and say "I was young and an idiot then and I'm fine now"?

Maybe I'm just a hippie who believes that if you dig deep enough everybody is basically the same but we can't really communicate that to each other even though we mostly all believe it because we're all trying to create personas and that kind of thing because human nature is horrible.

But anyway I just want to thank you (Mark Prindle) because I effing love reading your site and you seem like the kind of person that I would get to know and say "now that's a good well-rounded person despite his mind being a total clusterfuck" and your dog is beautiful and I love dogs. Keep doing what you're doing because you're good at it.

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Archaelgy Of The Infinite - Amarillo 1995.
Rating = 6

The schtick here is that they're creating their "important" second album - an all-serious psych meditation. A lot of the music is really good! Weak production hurts a little and the vocals are just ridiculous jokey intonations, but the actual melodies are neat -- like extremely lo-fi Thinking Fellers with less instrumental interplay. Definitely worth picking up if you see it really cheap somewhere, even though there's no interesting liner notes or anything - just photos of the band with beards. This one gets a high 6 when placed next to the first album's low 6. The band members are very fond of it (they're not too fond of the first album) - it IS pretty good, but jeez, crap like the long, made-up-as-they-went "Ominex" is a little too annoying to recommend. Plus, all the songs were written and recorded in one day. Who the hell do they think they are - the Low-Maintenance Perennials?

Reader Comments

Colin T.
i like this album. it's relaxing and trippy - a great afternoon-into-late-night jam session if you ask me! well done.... and here i was expecting something worthless. not at all. i reccomend it.

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