I was a teenage guttersnipe, raised on black coffee and cigarettes, and
smashing bottles against the brick wall behind the high school where I barely
attended was the highlight of my week. Any-fucking-way, I listened to a lot of
punk and noise rock, because that’s what we did. I had long hair and mainly
wore denim – a perpetual Canadian tuxedo – as well as a black backward trucker
hat. Along with the staples like AC/DC and Motörhead, I pumped The Jesus Lizard,
Melvins, Pissed Jeans, and Nirvana through my Walkman. Anything off of AmRep and
Alternative Tentacles. The old Sub Pop stuff.
Gold Leather is like me back then. Don’t
Care Nothin’ is the sound of the youth of today misapplying their vast
amounts of spare time into destructive pursuits. Does that interest you? Or
does that make you not care one way or the other? Find out for yourself,
jagwad. Four songs on this tape. Four fist-pumping anthems for soundtracking
crimewaves.
--Ryan Masteller
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