People occasionally ask me if I'll be attending reunion shows of this or that punk band that has been resurrected from the grave to shamble out and do their thing again. While there are a few that seem to have re-formed for legitimate reasons (I did enjoy seeing the reconstituted Amebix a few years ago and Ruin last year), most are embarrassing wrecks out to reclaim fame that was "denied" them (or so their self-aggrandizing narrative goes) or they'd like a cash in because Green Day got rich, so why can't they? The thought of the reformed bands that  have strained the structural integrity of stages across the country with their added bulk makes me want to, as they punks say, gob. My feeling is now and will always be: If you missed these bands the first time around, too bad. You're not really seeing them at the height of their powers. You're seeing a flabby simulacrum. If you saw the band in their prime, congratulations (you're old!). Nostalgia is --  I feel and I have said often -- a form of depression; you are better off with your hazy memory. If you're going to leave your crypt to attend a live performance, you'd be better off seeing a band operating at maximumfuckingintensity. Then you can tell others in the rest home that you saw ____________ back in 2014 before they sold out, man. Besides, did anyone EVER give a fuck about The Addicts?

My treat for you is this note-perfect pisstake of punk's first wave (namely The Damned and The Sex Pistols) from the sharp satirical band Alberto Y Lost Trios Paranoias.