“As a young man I was drenched in dreams of one day making my own version of history. And to me, music was the fuel to write my own history. Every record I buy earmarks a time in my life. My 7 inches recall stories of a young hardcore punk kid looking for direction or a lack of direction, while the records passed on to me by my father recall the stories he passed on to me through the voice of Bob Dylan and John Denver.
I remember specifically the first records I bought on my own. During my freshman year of high school, I was at a debate camp in Lawrence, Kansas. We had a day to troll the town so I headed to a record shop called The Love Garden. Being from a very small town in Iowa, this quaint little record shop opened my eyes to a sea of vinyl I had never seen before. I bought three records that day. Babyland You Suck Crap, 7 Seconds Old School, and a Zipgun 7″.
I hold a few records very close to my heart. These records shaped me and made me appreciate music’s power. These records bridged that gap I felt in my life. I was finally able to relate to someone or something, to hear words that made me feel like I belong, or that I’m part of something bigger. And here they are.”
Brainiac, Smack Bunny Baby | I was 18 when I saw Brainiac play at a club in Omaha, Nebraska called The Cog Factory. I was forever changed that day. It defined what it means to be a performer—letting the music consume you, believing so deeply in the words you’re preaching, and then projecting that energy onto a sea of kids trying to feel that same energy. The album didn’t leave my record player for a year.
Nation of Ulysses, Plays Pretty for Baby | These words spoke to me. It was about challenging the things around me and questioning the masses. The album told me, you don’t have to love the Beatles, you have to love yourself. You should look sharp, present yourself in a way that makes people look in awe. And still to this day this holds true:
“I’m not talking about a Beatles song, written 100 years before I was born. 100 flowers bloom, 100 schools of thought contend, c’mon baby, let’s hang around, they’re talking about the round and round, but who’s got the real anti-parent culture sound?”
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Blank Generation | I remember putting the needle on this record and falling in love. I stood next to the speaker memorizing every lyric and dreaming about how much blood was lost making that guitar sound. It was like something I’d never imagined. These few words made me realize I did belong to something bigger: “I was saying let me outta here before I was born it’s such a gamble when you get a face…”
It’s hard to really put into words how much these lyrics mean to me. For me, it’s higher power. To this day, I still find myself motivated and guided by these.”
—Steve Denekas, guitar, vocals
Paradise’s Soldiers of the Modern Age lands on store shelves April 22nd.
