You know those songs that are so powerful, they’re like a punch in the cock and balls? Those one’s that are so good you want to cry, but then your co-workers would totally laugh at you for crying over some stupid punk song?
I’m currently wasting the company bandwidth listening to this over and over. The entire songs of Tony Sly tribute album is like a mash-up of everything I knew and loved in high school that’s come back to bum me out on the fact that Tony Sly will never write or perform another song.
As a chubby 11 year old, No Use For A Name was the second punk band I ever heard, and they were only second by about 30 minutes. To this day, I can still remember that exact night. It was the first night my older cousin (who was significantly cooler at the time – at some point he became a huge Tool fan…love him, but I have no comment) took me out skateboarding. I remember sitting in a filthy basement watching Thrasher videos and listening to a dubbed copy of ¡Leche con Carne! on cassette, before touring the finest curbs, gaps and parking lots the east end of Woodstock had to offer.
It was that that night I realized that this was the music, and the lifestyle for me.
No Use For A Name was never a full blown obsession, but their albums were playing, and were always perfect. I always thought they should have been millionaires after that whole punk explosion thing in ’94. For various reasons/excuses, I always missed seeing them whenever they came through. I saw Tony play unplugged once with Joey Cape, and I didn’t take in and appreciate their performance like I should have. I did finally see NUFAN play at NXNE in 2012 with Bad Religion at Yonge & Dundas square. It was ironic that bands I used to get made fun of for listening to were now playing a free show at the busiest most touristy intersection in Toronto among ads for LG and H&M. I showed up to the show late, and remember thinking that Tony looked exhausted on stage. Still, a flawless performance none the less.
A few weeks later, I started my first salaried office job. That same day I found out that Tony had passed. Some parts of chubby 11 year old me died that day.
…aaaaaaaaand now i’m even more bummed.
Full Disclosure: I don’t have any dad issues…Straight From The Jacket is just a great song.
Bury Me In Vans 
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