The Gotobeds

I first encountered the Gotobeds in August 2014, at a benefit for the great rock bard Karl Hendricks in their mutual hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The Gotobeds went on fashionably (if not voluntarily) late and proceeded to lay waste to anything else anyone tried to do that evening.  I took an abnormal number of photos and was made a fan for life.  This kind of instant affection happens to me, particularly in my jaded dotage, so very rarely that I feel it is worth noting. Apprise your ears, brain, and genitalia of this brazen, scabrous, lovingly made record. Masterclass was spat out during a low point of recent human history–the Great Plague of 2020-2022–but as we should all know from watching the History Channel, there’s always a sub-sub-basement. And beautiful art, great music, good books–these things are necessary for survival, as well as being prime antidotes to the scourge of psyops-enabled doomscrolling. If you've access to a better (or even marginally equivalent) ball of punk, surf, no-wave, Beat-adjacent literature (ala John Fante, namechecked herein) and bubblegum, a) I have serious doubts that you are telling the truth, but b) please let us all know because we can surely use it. - Tim Midyett