Building a better Rat trap

Doktor Ross Sewage3 Comments

The ProCo Rat is a legendary pedal. It was designed by ProCo engineer Scott Burnham in 1978 in an attempt to build a better mouse trap, so to speak, compared to the pedals they were modding for customers. With some finesse, it can be dialed in as a fuzz, distortion or overdrive. It has a relatively simple distortion circuit built around a single LM308 opamp, itself now a coveted IC chip. It’s the tone on Metallica’s “Kill ’em All.” Legend has it two in a row were used for Carcass’s “Reek of Putrefaction.” Kurt Cobain, Thurston Moore, Kevin Shields, and Jeff Beck are all listed users (info from the always infallible Wikipedia). With the Rat2 in 1988, ProCo innovated again by adding what’s known as the Rat bypass, allowing true-bypass with a power indicating LED.

ProCo Rat 2

So what’s with the fucking battery cover? It sucks. Any time I see these pedals, the battery cover is long gone and the bottom is covered in icky duct tape leaving gummy residue all over the black box. The first one I got, a Rat2, was the same. Liberal amounts of Goo Gone were applied to clean the bastard. My friend gave me an original ’84 Rat. Again, no battery cover. All my friends with Rats? Duct taped battery covers.

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Lofty ideas #1

Doktor Ross Sewage3 Comments

Impaled has managed to stay in the same practice place for about 14 years. Holy fuck, has it been that long? Jesus Christo, I don’t think the world asked for a teenaged Impaled. Zit faced and sullen, we have more attitude than ever.

Our space is in what it locally known as “The Old Soundwave,” in that there was a “new Soundwave” started by the original owner, the legendary Al Lucchesi, with some partners. He ditched that and now he just focuses on the original Soundwave. It’s still the old one, and we’re the oldest tenants there. You can read a good article about Al here from the Easy Bay Express. The place has hosted in it’s halls Neurosis, High on Fire, Forbidden, Exodus, Testament, Faith No More, and countless others.

photo by Tony U., from Yelp.com

In this humble space, we’ve written all our records, recorded a couple, filmed two music videos (parts of a third), and shared our space with the likes of Blown to Bits, Morbosidad, Stormcrow, and Worm Ouroboros. So, why, oh why, did it take us more than a decade to decide to build a loft? Fucking morons.

Sean and I enlisted the help of our dear friend and sometime gore collaborator, Scott Bryan. We set to work to build a loft. Finally. We moved most of our equipment into a space that was temporarily empty, much to our benefit. To keep things easy and do it all in a day, we decided to go with it being 8′ tall, because that’s the height that 4×4 wood lumber comes in. That’s just less cutting to do, and it’s a good height to roll full stacks out from under.

Our room is at a slight angle, but basically the width is around 14′. At first, Scott was insistent that we had to put a beam right in the middle of the loft for support. I really didn’t want to. Then a neighbor came by and suggested we really didn’t have to. Instead of just using four 2x4s for the base of the loft, we should use at least one 2×12 for the front. That’s one super thick chunk of board that was terribly unlikely to bend. That’s when Scott remembered, that for once, he didn’t have to build something to code. I mean, who would it hurt to try? Just Impaled.

We were lucky enough to have one back wall made of thick gypsum, or something… I don’t know. It’s a really tough wall to even put pushpins in, so we assumed it would be good. Point is, we were lucky to not have to use drywall anchors. We put up a long 2×4 as our starting base. Of course, we kept it all level as we could. A good device that I was unfamiliar with, not being a carpenter, was a chalk line. Basically, it’s a string you pull tight from one end to another and snap it… and you get a straight line anywhere, drawn in chalk. That was way easier than trying to find a ruler 14′ long.

From there, we attached the side panels. We made these 4′ long, because the plywood sheets we got were 8×4′, and I wanted to do as little cutting as possible. I’m lazy.

Finally the massive 2×12 board was attached. It was a pain to even get in our room, bending around the hallway and the gear that was already in the room.

For the joists, the supports for the ply, we used joist anchors on the back beam and then screwed right into them from the front. The anchors made it a lot easier for us. We didn’t have to try and make the frame and THEN attach it to the wall. The joists were spaced about 2′ apart, because Scott told us this was standard. Hell if I know, I just know it all worked.

Next, we screwed in the 4×4 posts on each corner. Really, this thing was free hanging just fine, but I figured the posts would add a psychological comfort to the drummers who had to sit underneath this monstrosity. Finally, we put up two sheets of plywood, with a slight cut in one of them to match our angled wall. This thing was as solid as a poop after mac ‘n’ cheese.

There was some bitching by the drummers about sound, so I padded the corners and under the plywood (in between each joist) with foam. That seemed to solve the problem, and now everyone is happy we have less shit all over the floor. You can imagine, after 14 years, we’ve gathered a lot of shit.

The materials cost us somewhere around $100. Priceless, when I think of how it made our space infinitely more comfortable. On top of that, it only took a day. Nice. Scott Bryan is our man. He can be contacted by any other Bay Area bands looking for a good guy for a cheap price to help them build a loft at mistermeat138@yahoo.com. Or, get off your lazy ass and give it a go yourself. You can build a small one, a big one, but if you hurt yourself, I’m gonna 1. laugh, and 2. tell you right now that I told you not to without the help of a parent or guardian.

Oh yeah… don’t forget to decorate when you get chance with stripper rope lights. It makes your music sexier.

Doktor Ross Sewage
Minister vom Drek
www.doktorsewage.com

Tuna Footswitch

Doktor Ross Sewage1 Comment

I bought my SVT2 Pro from my friend Janis sometime in the late nineties for about $800. I really had no idea what it was, just that it said Ampeg like all the other bass players had and that it was very, very heavy. It must be good, because it weighs a lot, and was dubbed by Incantation as “the fucking brick” on Impaled’s tour with them in 2000. It had been on tour with Janis while she played in Stone Fox and L7. I guessed it was pretty good, but I was still too busy trying to learn to play and keep up with my bandmates who’d all been playing years longer than I to actually read about my purchase.


After a love / hate relationship with constant amp breakdowns for a decade, I finally figured out the SVT2 Pro had a vent on the side. I also figured out Ohms, and that I’d been abusing this poor thing for years with incorrect speaker hook ups. Sometimes, realizing my stupidity overwhelms me.

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vintage MXR Phase 90 sees the light

Doktor Ross Sewage4 Comments

The MXR Phase 90 is kind of the benchmark for phasers. It’s been made famous by being THE phaser for Mr. Eddie Van Halen and a score of others. It’s a four stage phaser with matched jfets, meaning in plain talk that it sounds tits. It’s a smooth sounding phaser with a rich tonality. There are many versions since it was first introduced in the 70s: the original script logo version, the first block letter version, the originals with added LED indicator, and then the many re-issues since the Dunlop company bought the rights to the MXR name. The quality of the version, if you go by general opinion, is almost always commensurate with the age.

old script mxr pedals

I was looking for and older one of these, and finally scored a block logo, non-LED version that I’ve dated as being made around 1978. It’s roughly the same kind Mr. Van Halen likely used. This is one of the “good ones.” I can definitely vouch for the sound, being that my Phase 90 sounds amazing on bass or guitar.

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BOSS DD-3 ECHO Echo echo mod

Doktor Ross Sewage12 Comments

I really don’t have a love for BOSS pedals. I don’t like them, actually. Don’t get me wrong, they usually do what they’re intended to do, come fairly cheap, and are easily replaceable. They also represent a time in the music world when everything started to become digitized, compact, and lose it’s soul. To me, BOSS Pedals are to music gear as Phil Collins taking over vocals is to Genesis.

That said, there’s a time and place for everything. I found a BOSS DD3 at a show. No one claimed it. So, on the plus side, it was free. It’s a solid enough digital delay. Heartless, but it gets the job done and has good delay time. But it ain’t analog.

Boss DD-3 Digital Delay Pedal

People harp on and on about the analog sound. What is analog sound? It’s the sound of error, not exactness. It’s the warm pops and hisses on vinyl, it’s the warble and clipping on a tape, and it’s the way a delay device further muddies the sound of each repeated echo. That’s something people pay a lot of big bucks for when they pick up an old 70s tape echo machine or even an early eighties delay that uses BBD chips. It’s analog, it has error, and in some ways that’s a nicer sound to most human ears. Of course, you don’t get the extended delay times of a digital delay like the DD3, but you can fake the analog and keep the digital.

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Gross Anatomy: Torche / Big Business poster

Doktor Ross Sewage2 Comments

A couple months back shortly after returning from tour with Ludicra, I was watching the Melvins sound check after I’d delivered the posters I’d done for their show that night hastily over the past week. I mentioned to Justin from Secret Serpents standing next to me, “When I hear Jared sing and play bass, I really crave me some Big Business.” Justin replied, “They’re touring in August, you want in on the poster series?” Right… after… the Impaled tour. So, from one job that followed a Euro tour for me uncomfortably close, to another one that would follow the next Euro tour uncomfortably close. I couldn’t refuse the challenge!

18 x24", five colors, edition of 100
For sale in the Sewage Shop

Couple that challenge with the plane booking… Raul asked if I wanted to stay a few extra days in Europe, I said yes. That translated to him as nine extra days. That’s three times a few, by my reckoning. So, after the Impaled tour, being broke and strapped for time, I opted to stay with my friend Conny at her flat and get in some days drawing my poster. She set me up with some paper and an old German doctor’s desk (very fitting, I might say) and I got to work.

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Re-tour-ning home

Doktor Ross Sewage1 Comment

I needed just a small tour wrap up to get my head in order and remember the last week of my life in order.

After we finished up at OEF, we headed to Prague to the OEF after show and to where Jason and Sean’s flights would be leaving from. Before that, though, the Kostnice in Kootna Hora was luckily on the way. The Bone Church of Lore. Was I really going there a third time? My limited talent has really taken me to some cool places, and I finally got that band photo I’d wanted five years ago.

The OEF after show was cool, with some of the cool rock stars showing up for a laugh along with some good bands like Putrid Pile, Magrudergrind and Entrails. Entrails, with members of Birdflesh doing some sweet old school Swedish death metal. Actually, I’ve seen a lot of new bands doing old school Swedish death metal on the trip. Retro-retro thrash, look out.

Our friend Curby tool care of us again, wrapping up our business and making sure we didn’t have to lug home left over shirts. Thanks again, Curby! You rule. Curby had initially asked us to play the after show, but after a band vote we declined. I think we were afraid of running late and being tired and fucking up Jason and Sean’s flights. That was dumb, we should have played and had a good time. Sorry about that, Praha.

My friends Vlad and Stanislav of the Turbo Jugend Praha went out of their way to take care and lodge some wayward G.O.R.E. Corps soldiers. Always a pleasure to see them and share some Pilseners.

The next day we dropped off Jason and Sean and then Raul went with Brad, and me and Povey split off with Conny for some separate adventures. I’m still waiting to see Raul and regale in his tales. He can write his own fucking blog. For me, Dresden and my many cool friends there were calling.

There was a visit to a lake near the castle at Schloss Moritzburg, where I got to see more old German penises than I ever needed. There was the Dresden bombing and war remembrance memorial in Heidefriedhof cemetary, where some scheisskopf tagged “lie” in German on the column remembering the victims of Auschwitz. Never have I hated tagging more. There was good German food, a good grind core show at Chemie Fabrik along with their signature “ratte hirn” or “rat brain” drink.

The coolest was the Krautwald Fabrik art action that my friend and our driver was involved in.

This is an old, shut down factory in the Pieschen neighborhood of Dresden. I was here as they were starting to do the clean up, and now it’s a temporary gallery doing monthly shows. Tons of machinery was in here, and now it’s filled with art. To keep things cool with legal and insurance logistics, it’s been opened as a private club for art. No Feds allowed. How do you become a member? 1€ does it, you get a card, buy some cheap beer and look at amazing art.

Look out for the crab!

That’s how it’s done a lot of the time in Ost-Deutschland… they get an idea and improvise with whatever material is around. If you can make it here before they close in November, I highly recommend it.

Shortly thereafter, Povey left and I headed to Berlin. My father was here when they started the Berlin Wall in 1961, so of course I had to be a dumb tourist and pay 2€ to take a picture with a German posing as an American soldier.

Before that, I was having a lot of fun with my friend Fatima visiting the excellent Strychnin Gallery, which is like walking into an issue of Juxtapozed. This is another must in Berlin, they have great exhibitions, this one was robot related art. Meet Styrobot.

I also had a coffee and some grilled cheese in Cassiopeia, a huge squat in Berlin with a show spot, cafes, and rock climbing. I did not rock climb. I am not that kind of extreme. Then, I heard the thunder of techno and reggae rumble, and before you knew it, I was in a huge street protest against gentrification and Media Spree. It was a nice walking tour of the Kreuzberg neighborhood, courtesy of the police and Germans slathered in patchouli.

Back to Dresden using www.mitfahrgelegenheit.de, a super helpful website in German. It’s like the rideshare section of craigslist, but on steroids. I was a little afraid of my rideshare ending up as the doctor from Human Centipede, but it worked out and was way cheaper than a bus or train.

From Dresden to Prague, and another night with my friends in Turbo Jugend Praha, drinking the night away, trying to make us miss our flight so we could drink some more. They’ve excitedly told me how they are putting on the Prague show for my friends in YOB and Dark Castle September 25th. I’ll be curious to see who outdrinks whom when some real bourbon drinking Americans show up.

And that’s it. Back to real life again, making rock posters and paying the rent. Sometimes paying the rent. Mostly, I am not missing rent. Oh boy.

EDIT: and now I am missing planes. Rather, they are missing me. In what is becoming a regular occurence on my trips, my flight home has been cancelled. I am returning home a day later than I expected. Ah well, at least Raul and I got single rooms. I plan to lounge like a nudist and pretend I am rich while drinking cheap Branik beer. Rock star.

Doktor Ross Sewage
www.doktorsewage.com
The G.O.R.E. Corps Minister of Filth
reporting from field of battle: Europa

Location:Praha, Czech Rep.

Esprit de Corpse: Nein

Doktor Ross Sewage3 Comments

This is the point.

Here we are, and about fucking time! I’ve wanted to play the Obscene Extreme Festival for a damn long time, and we finally made it. Check out the lyrics of the love song “To Die For” on Mondo Medicale, because our lyrics are so cogent and relevant to a bunch of drunk headbangers. There’s a line about a gore hound (my lovely ex) being obsessed with the extreme and obscene. I’ve been making shout outs since 2002. It only took 9 years for it to all work out.

Obscene Extreme is a mostly grind core festival that’s been running since 1999 in Trutnov, Czech Republic. It’s steadily grown in size, but maintains the same ethos for a raging good time. Stage diving is actually encouraged here. There’s a good meter of the stage from the bands’ monitors to the front, dedicated for people to come up, dance a bit, and dive back into the crowd. There is security, but no barriers between the band and the tigers in the crowd.

Just a touch of history: the field that this fest has been held in all but one time (I think) is known as the Trutnov Battlefield. It was in 1866, during the Seven Weeks War between Austria and the Kingdom of Prussia, that the Austrians won a victory against overwhelming Prussian forces here that were in disarray after crossing the mountainous terrain. Prussia won the war eventually, though, which would lead to the confederation of the northern Germanic kingdoms into one. Austrians aren’t that good at winning wars, but they excel at body building and fighting Predators.

The actual town seems quite nice, though it is now beset by crusties and metal heads.

We arrived a bit late on the second day of the fest. The biggest bummer about that was for our friend Brad, who’d come using his many frequent flyer miles after working for Green Day the past few years. He came to hang and vacation after, and as a bonus, do our sound. Our plans had changed, though, so poor Brad arrived in Prague with no ride and no idea what to do. He bussed to Trutnov, and eventually via text we got him into the fest. He had no place to stay. There are campgrounds, but he had nothing. Curby, the main man behind Obscene Extreme, did his best dealing with everything else and then to help our poor friend. It was only after Brad stayed up all night drinking vodka with strange ozzies and poles that Curby could finally find him an open room at a hostel. Hopefully our ravaged friend would wake up in time for our set that night! Impaled, ruining lives since 1997.

When we finally arrived, we got sorted by our friend Curby as well. Passes, beer, vegan food, nice hotel… not to mention that this guy was dealing with the gazillion bands on this fest, but he had helped to set up our tour as well. It was the only way we could afford to be here at all. Hats off to you, buddy. We are happy to be in your operating theater.

The grounds are pretty enormous with lots of camping. That filled up, evidenced by crusties camping at the gas station across the way. We were able to nab a table on advice from Brutal Truth and just DIY our merch sales outside the main merch market. And, bully for me, the excellent Czech beer (my fave in Europe) flows like water and the food is all vegan!

I got to see a bit of the Varukers, some great punk rock, some of Skitsystem, and Rotten Sound. I watched Brujeria absolutely slaying the crowd from behind the stage as I practiced like a kid staying up all night before the S.A.T.s. They finally finished, and as I was walking up, they started up their version of “Macarena” over the PA, the entire crowd screaming “Marijuana.” About half the crowd joined them on stage and were dancing as I was setting up. Oi vey. It was funny, but now I knew we were more like a clean up crew for these guys. Oh well, we were still gonna rage it.

As I was setting up, the bassist from Brujeria says to me, “Good luck!” It sounded more ominous at the time than helpful. “Thanks, we’ll try,” I say. Hmm. This is Jeff Walker of Carcass playing bass for Brujeria. “Are you in Impaled?” he asks. “Yeah,” I reply, “and I guess I should thank you for all the riffs.”

Our set started kind of tame, frankly. At this point, I was hating that meter of space between us and the tigers, because it was empty. So we all just kept walking up to the crowd anyway between singing. I’d say about four songs in, we finally had them going. They started having a good time, really head banging and having fun again. I didn’t think it would be so hard for Impaled to win over a grind crowd, but I think we did okay.

Afterwards, I got to see some of Gronibard absolutely capturing the spirit of the fest by quite literally rocking out with their cocks out. The requisite dudes in banana suits at the fest danced wildly. I was particular to Interment who followed, however, who nailed the old school Swedish sound and jammed hard. Then it was my watch on the merch table, and we eventually packed it up to get some sleep for our next day at OEF.

A leisurely morning was had, followed by a stressful talk concerning finances. Summer touring in Europe during festival season is hard. There’s less shows to be had and the plane tickets are outrageous. We packed up our merchandise and headed to the fest in hopes of filling the hole a bit.

When we arrived, Mesrine was already on stage. We’d already missed 11 bands. This fest starts at 10 and ends at 3am… that’s a lot of grind. Mesrine rocked some good crust punk.

I walked through the non-band merchandise area to see what I could find. There was an antifa shirt with a pic of Schwarzenegger that they did not have in my friend Aesops’ size. Too bad. Then I saw the ugliest Dystopia bootleg I’ve ever seen. What the fuck. Was this an Illustrator trace of a 10k gif? Yipes. Get some pride, bootleggers.

Next was Visions of War, ultra leftist crust grind so far as I can tell. They called out a few other grind bands about them not being true enough. Factions against fascism. A break, and then I caught Instinct of Survival. I could imagine all my crusty friends in Oakland being super into this band back when drinking was more important than cocaine. The funniest part was when a dude mooned the crowd on stage and then back planted his ass crack on his friend’s head. Ah, the homoeroticism never ceases at OEF.

Inhumate is the kind of noisy, balls out, loose grind core that gets this crowd going. Everyone was on stage dancing. Funny the singer should complain that the crowd was not bleeding, but then gently warned them when they got on stage to look out for a bit that was broken so they should not hurt themselves. Hey, even anarchy can get TOO crazy.

For a bit more controlled anarchy, in the U.K. (see what I did there?) they have the Rotted (formerly Gorerotted). I guess they dropped the gore in their name because they were battered when Al and Tipper split. Now they deliver blistering grind core with a precise edge.

The rest of the night continued with the headliners like Lock Up and Brutal Truth, followed by some bad assery from Dropdead. Le Scrawl was a huge hit, getting folks dancing so late into the night. Then, I hit a god damned metaphorical wall after I was bought a shot of some local liquor that tasted like Christmas. I wish I could remember the name… or how I got back to the hotel.

Thanks, Obscene Extreme. And thanks to the Old World for once again hosting Impaled. Esprit de Corpse c’est fin.

Doktor Ross Sewage
www.doktorsewage.com
The G.O.R.E. Corps Minister of Filth
reporting from field of battle: Europa

Location:Trutnov Battlefield, Czech