The year was 1981 and hardcore was on the rise... Blaine, Steve, Loud, and Paul made up one of the West Coast's most seminal bands of the time, with scathingly political lyrics and collage artwork to match. Members later went on to such bands as Ten Minute Warning, The Accused and Guns n' Roses!?!
Completely unfuckwithable classic 80s hardcore!
"The Fartz are a local favorite with an ideal format for audience participation: five bars and a rest just long enough for someone to interject "Fuck you." The singer did some interesting things with the microphone, none of which had much to do with lyrics. In fact, the lyrics were unintelligible, the singing more of a rhythm element than anything else. The only words I caught were "everything is wrong." So true. So true." - Northwest Passage, March 1982
"Incredible hardcore from Seattle. The Fartz are a no-nonsense band who don't believe in studio gimmickery. Their sound is real raw. It's savage, unrefined punk at its best, as loud, fast and intense as they come. Singer Blaine Fart roars fiercely, real lethal-sounding. Their songs are serious Anarchist messages against corporations, politicians, war, in general any situation that subverts people." - Ripper #6, December 1981
"The Fartz - You, We see You Crawling Where were you in '82? Was David Byrne the man for you? Did you wear skinny ties and pointy boots? WELL ALL YOU DWEEBS MAKE ME WANNA PUKE! Huh? Where am I? Oh. That's right. It's the '90s and I'm old, old, old, in punk years anyway. Ever since my stroke, which I suffered the first time I saw the Melvins in '85 - or was it '86? - I've been having these bizarre flashbacks and I babble incoherently and misquote Angry Samoans lyrics. So now, here I am, almost as old as Wilum Pugmire. "Who?" Never mind, youngsters, gather round and let me tell you about punk rock. I'm trying hard to make you understand... try to visualize it... it wasn't always cool. Yeah, you can sit around bitching and whining about "the jocks" giving you a hard time and how you're such a hopeless societal reject and I say ain't it nice you've got all these close, personal friends to sit around commiserating with about how you don't have any friends. Back then, it was a miracle these juvey scruffs known collectively as the Fartz managed to find each other (and just because people were already pronouncing punk dead doesn't change the fact that in this town it was just getting started). Blaine Fart later became Blaine Accüsed. He was just a pup then, but sounded much the same, had already started puke-singing his raspy little lungs out in a most endearing fashion. I remember the Rocket once called them "the very political Fartz," but since I could never understand what Blaine was yapping about, I'll have to take their word for that. A few other people you might know were in the band at one time or another, including Paul Solger ("Dead Solger" appears on this record, though it's not as funny now as it probably was then). Loud Fart was the original drummer, but was later replaced by Duff McKagan, who's a big rock star now. They later mutated into 10 Minute Warning, a really cool band your big brother may remember... AURGHHH! WHY AM I TELLING YOU ALL THIS? If you don't already know, why should you care? Seriously youngsters, on it's own merits, this record is rad with an anarchy-A, fast, snotty and you know, hardcore. It's real raw sounding, but all Seattle records were underproduced back then, not just the cool ones. So this is worth picking up if you find it, even if you don't give a damn about what went down a decade ago. But what I'm trying to say is, this band was more than that. They we're... you know, important! No, not like the Accüsed are important, but like... you know… like… Oh, damn it all, anyway. Where's my Geritol? Incidentally, the original Angry Samoans lyric was: "Where were you in '72? Was David Bowie the man for you? When you dyed your hair blue and painted your dick, well all you squares really make me sick." Or something like that." - Backlash