There are a few large reasons I don’t consider myself a “music journalist,” even though I’ve spent a huge portion of the past fifteen years constantly writing record reviews. There are two poles that such an individual shoots for. 1.) Latching onto a rising star that they’re hoping will get a lot of sales: all that next-big-thing, voice-of-a-generation bullshit that VH-1/Spin/AP has a boner for. 2.) The writer as self-made superstar through outrageous behavior (at least on paper). And not to make too fine a point of it, a majority of those “music reporter superstars” of yore became beholden to major companies, even beloved Lester. I believe in neither of these approaches because the bands that I champion—ninety-nine percent of them—will never sell more than a couple thousand records at a time. So, when I say that this Future Virgins 7” is in the upper atmosphere of the best DIY punk ever recorded, I say it with intentions to aggrandize or fool no one. A long and fully loaded train of experience is backing me up. So, let those who are in a large, crumbling musical houses with big megaphones propagandize what they may. I’ll be listening to the Future Virgins instead. Over and over and over again, my friend. And there’s no better testament than listening to music that’s so good that it feels as important as a basic human need.
–todd (Plan-It-X South)