Pie in the Face

A little while back, you may remember, my friend Tim B (of Stupefaction fame) started a great little communal project called The New York Nobody Sings, a site dedicated to highlighting esoteric songs about New York City. A bunch of NYC bloggers like myself, Tim, EV Grieve and a few others regularly posted whenever we thought of some new track to cite. I put up posts about songs by everyone from The Bee Gees and Missing Foundation to FEAR and Simon & Garfunkel and all stripes in between. The New York Nobody Sings chugged along for a spell until we all sort of collectively ran out of steam. Apart from the odd entry here and there, it's been largely dormant since last spring (although a new one was put one up just the other day, it appears). In any case, Tim keeps threatening to dismantle the blog. I hope he doesn't, but there it is.

In any case, one of the many entries I logged on TNYNS was this little slice about an old favorite song of mine that still resonates with me, despite its myriad dated references. I'm not sure I'll get to re-purpose all the posts I put up before TNYNS goes away, but we'll see. Please enjoy:

I first heard of The Pop-O-Pies in the summer of 1984 during a bike trip through Massachusetts, staying at a succession of slug-laden camp sites and dreary youth hostels. One of the guides was this hirsute stoner named Mike who, upon learning that I was a big fan of hardcore bands like MDC and the Circle Jerks, asked if I'd ever heard of this strange San Francisco punk band renowned for doing idiotic cover versions of the Grateful Dead's "Truckin'." This being an era long before the dawn of the iPod, Mike proceeded to regale me with warbley a cappella renditions of Pop-O-Pies songs like "The Catholics Are Attacking" and "Fascists Eat Donuts." Suffice to say, my curiosity was piqued.

When I got back to the city, I immediately set out to find the Pop-O-Pies on vinyl. In very short order, I tracked down a copy of their 1983 debut, The White EP (featuring the above songs as well as two needless versions of "Truckin'") at long-since-departed 99 Records on Bleecker Street. Not so much a proper band as a loose collective of musicians rotating around one Joe "Pie" Callahan, the Pop-O-Pies fleetingly counted future members of Faith No More, Mr. Bungle and Dead Kennedys in its ranks. Later that same year, The Pop-O-Pies' second slab of vinyl, Joe's Second Record was released on San Francisco hardcore label, Subterranean Records. Along with yet another rendition of "Truckin'" and some truly dubious forays into rap, Joe included a quick little ditty called "I Love New York," sort of San Francisco's answer to The Randoms' "Let's Get Rid of New York." Though the Pop-O-Pies were Bay Area to the bone, the song's lyrical insights totally captured the New York experience. Here they are in full: 

You work your ass off around the clock
Just to pay for a place to live.
You think you might have a real good time
If you had some time to give

The people treat you ugly
and they act like royal snot
They think it's chic to be a geek,
and get taken for everything they've got.

New York, New York

I pay extra for those piss-stench halls
$10 for a six of Bud
Blow a hundred at CBGB's,
just to check out the local crud.

I hate those hipster idiots
that cop junk in the heroin parks
and all those idle wealthy brats
that hang out on St. Marks. 

New York, New York, New York

OK, I'm a hardcore punk from NYU
And I can tell you first hand about
the politically oppressed working class peoples of the world

1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4 

 

Lost landmarks like CBGBs notwithstanding, I'd say the sentiments expressed herein still ring true today. Incidentally, you can find out more about the history of the mighty Pop-O-Pies on their official website.