BRANDON CONTROL // APRIL 2005

I stayed at Brandon's place on a tour in the spring of 2005. I had met him a few years earlier, just before he moved to Richmond from North Carolina to play drums for MUNICIPAL WASTE...when he was fukkn 17...and we had crossed paths a few times since that first encounter. Solid dude, a mental punk encyclopedia rivaled by few before or since (especially if you're talking USHC), and no joke kids: that motherfukkr could PLAY*. So that afternoon in 2005, I just let Brandon make the mix tape. I already had the DIRECT CONTROL shit (can I tell you about the only time I saw DIRECT CONTROL?**), and I loved it, but watching Brandon pull out pile after pile of records...watching some kid a decade younger than me school the shit out of me on that spring afternoon while I just managed the queue and lined up the thing after the next thing after the next thing for the mix tape, knowing that we could have made twenty and Brandon STILL would have had records lined up...it's one of my fondest tour memories. And this tape is the result. Don't even know what to say about the news of Brandon's death yesterday...enjoy your friends while you can.

HARDCORE DUDICAL

*In 2004 when SUNDAY MORNING EINSTEINS passed through Richmond, their drummer Anton (an absolute Swedish DBeat machine) told me "some American dude wants to have a DBeat competition with me." I laughed, because Anton is, as I mentioned, a machine. I said, "Let's get him!" and then Anton pointed at Brandon.....and I told him that Brandon might be the only dude on the continent that could beat him, and that maybe we should just have some beers and hang out. 

**I was recruited to drive a band to the airport by the organizers of ChicagoFest 2005 and I agreed. The band in question were friends, and I like to help whenever possible. Then I saw the lineup and the set times for the Sunday gig, and I realized that if I drove said band to the airport, then I would miss DIRECT CONTROL. This was not acceptable. Long story short....I gave the organizers an ultimatum: rearrange the Sunday show, or find someone else to drive said band to the airport. I mean, I ain't trying to be an ass here, but I came to see fukkn DIRECT CONTROL. Helping is one thing, but...come on. 
(Result: They rearranged the order of bands, I made the run to the airport, and I walked back into the gig as the fiercest USHC trio of the mid-'00s was taking the stage....and then I lost my shit)