Jason Pettigrew

Things are moving along quite nicely here at the PTGRW rampart. I’ve had a lot of high-spirited conversations, gained some personal insight and find myself re-evaluating everything constantly. I was having a conversation with someone in Cleveland (a place I miss terribly) telling me that I should sell shirts with my fugitive dog Arto in Al Jourgensen eyewear (⬆). I was telling said person how, after I was reading a list of bands appearing at some Danny Wimmer festival, I felt inspired to make shirts emblazoned with I ❤ GATEKEEPING with the site logo rendered reeeeeally small below the line. I don’t know: How many do you think I could sell?

Anyway: I don’t think I am usurping any fab web traffic from any of the folks I’ve been working with, so this’ll be a lengthy update.

In my previous life, I had a long conversation with Glassjaw front-face Daryl Palumbo, who won me over with an avalanche of minutiae he had retained surrounding British punk and New Wave, as well as the career and discography of the late Frank Zappa. I was a fan of Glassjaw's polarizing debut full-length, but I had no effin' idea how deep Daryl's love for music could realistically be measured. (I may be elderly, but I'm smart enough not to attempt discussing Stiff Records b-sides and deep cuts from Difford & Tilbrook, Lowe, Costello et al with  doe-eyed pop-punks and metalcore muppets alike.) When I first heard an advance copy of Decadence, the first album by Palumbo’s side project Head Automatica, I acquired more tinnitus exposure than I had expected. Master P and Dan The Automator were able to weave all these seemingly disparate idioms ('90s alt-rock, New Wave, Britpop, hip-hop, righteous 'n' furious soul) into a kickass listening experience. (And don't get me started on the majestic follow-up, Popaganda.) 

Fast-forward a few decades: I'm at home trying to decide what accessory I was going to take in the bath with me (hard choice between straight razor and clock radio), and I get a text from the Head A proletariat. They say they need some over-the-top doxology for a special reissue of Decadence. I couldn't think of a more life-affirming sign than that and as a result, I didn't shower for a week, choosing instead to chat up Daryl and wax rhapsodic on one of the 21st century's finest moments. You can preorder this gussied-up reissue right over here. The reissue is slated for release July 17, but if you're stalking the band somewhere along this current West Coast trek they've embarked upon, maybe someone can speed up that procurement process for you. Don't shout me out though: When it comes to this stuff, I'm as press-shy as one of those yacht-destroying orcas.

‘68—the duo of guitarist/singer/gadget collector Josh Scogin and plasma-burning drummer Nikko Yamada—have embarked on their farewell tour after 10 years (give or take a pandemic or two). They decided to go out on their own terms and kept all their business in house, starting with the creation of their last LP, They Are Survived, which was released on their Velvet Press imprint. It rocks, it’s pensive, it has more nuances and weird diversions than any acid trip you’ve read about. I was able to see these practitioners of “free rock” twice on this final outing, and I know I will miss them more once the vinyl lands on my front porch. Having been an early adopter to Mr. Scogin’s hyper-undulating musicality, I wrote a whole bunch of words about the new album, the duo’s friendship and how this is the end of the line for them—and they all ended up on Facebook.

Not gonna lie: I’ve driven stupid hours to see these two and I’m genuinely sad it’s coming to an end. Maybe if all of their fans converged on ‘68’s social media and demanded a live DVD of their farewell gig in Atlanta, we could ameliorate our collective heartbreak accordingly…

And finally: My run annotating the Sire/Warner era of Ministry for Rhino’s reissue series has come to an end. The final notes for Filth Pig and Dark Side Of The Spoon were submitted in mid-May and if previous releases are any indication, they should be out into the world in October (“Rocktober” if you’re into the clever marketing). Al Jourgensen is readying the promotional onslaught for what he lucidly refers to as “the final Ministry album,” and he’s not dicking around, either. That record is slated for release later this year; I wonder if the Texas iteration of this year’s Sick New World fest may contain some clues… 

Thanks for visiting. I still have a few rabbits champing at the bit in my top hat that I’m not allowed to pull out quite yet. I promise that I — closely monitored by PTGRW’s digital doyenne, Furiosa — will reveal no projects before their time.

Love your friends and tell them how you feel about them…