About nine years ago, coming from the musically barren landscape of rural Nevada and Arizona, I came in contact with Tiltwheel. It was with Bob, their drummer. We had a mutual hate of the band Goldfinger. It was based on a column I’d written about the dishonesty of not only cashing in on trends (ska, at the time), but of “professional” amnesia. Goldfinger had been a horrible, horrible band of another name (Electric Love Hogs) and style a short time before. Over the years, I got to hang out when Tiltwheel recorded their only full-length LP, Hair Brained Scheme Addicts, and have come to the happy conclusion that Davey’s unwittingly been part of the grit and slurry for the cement that I’ve built up a lot of my musical faith around this past decade. Tiltwheel’s taught me that although everything’s falling apart, it is what it is. Eat a burrito. Chill out without ignoring the anger. Political awareness doesn’t need to be overt. Realize that 100 beers for a van is definitely never enough. Take the hits but make your own stuffs without resorting to douche baggery. It’s weird on another level because, for being one of my favorite bands of all time, we’ve never interviewed them in Razorcake because, although I’ve never said it aloud, I’m waiting for the next full length. Here are two more excellent songs. I almost always feel a little bad about the bands on the other side of Tiltwheel splits; they may be pretty fuckin’ great (I’m digging Down In The Dumps), but it’s like comparing a candle with the left eye to the sun with the right.