Sectarian Violence: The Band

BREAKING NEWS!!! Sectarian Violence to re-form this Summer

2009-06-04T18:54:00.001-07:00

Our sources have informed us that long-dormant band Sectarian Violence has re-formed and is actively planning to rehearse. We have photo evidence of the first rehearsal in over a year that apparently took place in their new state-of-the-art recording studio in San Francisco, California sometime during the winter. Here are the pictures leaked from the rehearsal:

Here is the band, led by drummer Katy80, arriving at their new studio

Jack offers Michael a fine vintage he picked up on the corner of 6th and Mission.

Getting ready to play

Jack playing "Respect"

The band are the image of discipline and concentration

JR tries to remember the words to a song

That is all for now!

Saturday

2007-08-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

There is a rumor that Sectarian Violence is playing a secret show at house party somewhere in Los Angeles this Saturday before the members of the band move to various parts of the country to gear up for their next recording session. This is not entirely true. Still, if you are at the party and you ask really nice, they might play (assuming Katie80 is drunk enough).

Calling All Bass Players...

2007-07-08T00:19:00.000-07:00

Clearly we need to do something like this when we play live.

Happy Birthday Michael!

2007-06-27T23:50:00.001-07:00

Today the band gathered together to celebrate the birthday of the possibly one of the greatest musical minds of his or any other generation. The band jammed, playing old favorites like "Folsom Prison Blues" and "Respect," as well as "Maggie May" and the Michael Jackson classic "Beat it." The sound was made complete with Katie80 on her brand new drums. Jack played until his finger bled (which was NOT the result of a wicked paper cut he received earlier in the day). JR belted out the lyrics like a hurricane in a 7-11. Michael added his powerful and innovative bass and keyboard stylings. It was beautiful.

For those of you who doubted us

2007-06-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

...now we have drums.

Be warned...

2007-06-14T16:20:00.000-07:00

"Anyone can play guitar"

2007-05-24T22:33:00.000-07:00

Here is the only surviving picture from our most recent rehearsal. We rocked.

Sectarian Violence Movie Night

2007-05-20T15:35:00.000-07:00

Taking a break from a grueling rehearsal schedule, the band sat down with some tasty food and enjoyed the American film classic "Cobra," featuring Sly Stallone in the title role. Legend has it that the film arose out of Stallone's original ideas for the film Beverly Hills Cop. He had wanted to make a less comedic, more action-oriented film that tackled some the most pressing social issues of the day...namely, economically-diverse axe-clanking gangs that hang out in warehouses "Cobra" is indeed action packed...what lacks in plot and dialogue is supplemented by bone-rattling action and spectacular special effects (mostly in the form of explosions). The film was extremely inspirational to the band, both for its surreal approach to violent crime in 1980s Los Angeles and its heart-warming love story between Stallone and a 22 year-old Brigitte Nielson. This film has it all...

In other news, the band continues to practice feverishly, polishing its act and refining its sound. Be patient, fans...there should be some interesting material from the band soon.

Congratulations J.R!

2007-05-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

J.R., prominant local vocalist, is now a newly-minted JD/MBA. In honor of J.R., yet another Sectarian Violence concept poster. Enjoy!

The Ultimate Video?

2007-04-22T19:11:00.000-07:00

Many people ask us "when is your first video coming out?" (Usually the first question people ask is "who are you people?" or "are you people trying to steal my drum set?") Music videos were what channels like MTV and VH1 showed before they switched to an exclusive line-up featuring teen dating shows and B-list celebrity reality television programming. Anyway, while we have been unable to steal a drum set, we did manage to steal this idea from this article about rock video cliches (such as playing in a warehouse, garage, or other strange location, a mysterious girl (preferably from the past, candles, and rain. The author came up with a shot-by-shot treatment to feature all of these cliches and we just love it, so here it is. We were lazy with this post, so please replace the words "the band" with "Sectarian Violence." Enjoy!

The video starts off as a black screen, then we see one candle light up. It cuts to a girl in a kitchen, dumping three bottles of liquor down the sink at the same time. When all the alcohol is gone, she screams and throws one of the bottles against the wall, leaving glass all over the floor. Cut to an old warehouse, where the band is playing on a huge stack of 2x4's. Then we see the singer only, sitting on a couch surrounded by candles. He opens a lockbox full of pictures, then randomly pulls out a photo of the mystery girl from the kitchen scene. Cut back to the girl, sitting at the kitchen table with her hands covering her face, then back to the singer. The singer is now writing a letter, but he gets frustrated halfway through and crumples it up and throws it. Then we go to a scene of the band playing at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. underneath the Wright Brothers' plane. The singer is clenching both fists in front of his head. After a quick cut, we're back to just the singer in a house, but now he's staring out a window and pounding the glass with both hands at once. He walks back to the couch, sits down and starts writing a new letter, but again stops halfway through. This time, he burns the letter using one of the candles, then throws it on the floor with complete disregard for any potential fire hazards. Next, the girl is in her bathroom, staring into the mirror and crying tears of high-grade gasoline. She splashes water in her face, but she accidentally knocks over a candle and lights the gasoline tears on fire. Cut to the band again, but this time they're playing on top of the Empire State Building. We then see the girl running away from her house as it is engulfed in flames, and then we see the singer driving away from his burning house. The girl runs through a forest while the singer drives through a massive rainstorm. Cut back to the band, but this time they're playing on one of Jupiter's rings. The singer's arms are all over the place. All of a sudden the singer and the girl are meeting on the top of a mountain. How did they get up there in just 20 seconds? It's not important. They embrace, and then the rain stops and the camera does a 360-degree pan as they both stand at the peak of the mountain with their arms in a V. Cut back to the band, but this time they're playing from the center of the sun. Then the final scene takes us back to the singer. He's back on his couch and he's looking at the picture of the girl. Then, he sighs and puts it back in the box and puts it back under his coffee table.

An idea for a tour poster

2007-04-07T00:42:00.000-07:00

Do you think this is creepy enough for us or does need more children in military garb?

From the 'tin sandwich' to guitar?

2007-04-01T14:59:00.000-07:00

Recently, Tom, the band's lead harmonica player, began experimenting with the guitar, apparently hoping to follow in the footsteps of "several" famous guitar players who began their careers as harmonica players. As a master of the tin sandwich, Tom was somewhat reluctant to try something new, but, as I am sure you guessed, curiousity won out. The transition was utterly seemless. Here are some images from Friday's quasi-rehearsal:

In other news, J.R. recently purchased a microphone stand. It is totally cool.

Just over a year ago today...

2007-03-17T13:22:00.000-07:00

...members of quite possibly the greatest band of all time rehearsed for the first time. Long live Sectarian Violence!!!!!

Press Clipping

2007-03-06T07:09:00.000-08:00

We received this story from the Onion this morning:

Unreleased Jimmy Page Guitar Riff To Be Retrieved From Secret Vault To Save Rock And Roll

GWYNEDD, WALES—Recent developments in the music world, such as the popularity of the Dixie Chicks and Sufjan Stevens, have created a "perfect storm of lameness."

...And our reply:

To whom it may concern at the Onion,
Sectarian Violence already saved rock n' roll. Please refer to our website if you have any questions.
Signed,
THE BAND

Open letter to our fans

2007-02-19T00:08:00.000-08:00

Dear fans and misdirected users of Wikipedia,
Recently there have been some rumors floating around various fansites that the band has split up or that one or more members are dead and/or have fled the country to avoid serving an unfair prison sentence (in particular, we dislike the "Jack is dead" rumor, as it is a clear rip-off of the Beatles, which we would proably never do unless it was profitable). At any rate, these oddball rumors are almost entirely untrue. Please ignore them and ignore anyone who spreads them. Fear not, loyal fans...The band will be rehearsing again in the not-too-distant future.

Recent news

2007-01-26T10:41:00.000-08:00

Hello fans and detractors alike! The band is been extremely busy in recent weeks. As promised, the band made a appearence in Las Vegas at the "legendary" Imperial Palace hotel and casino. Due to contractual obligations, we cannot share much from the trip, but here are a few images cleared by the band.

The band getting ready for their gig in the bowels of the Imperial Palace.

Members of the band checking out the view from the roof of the hotel.

IN OTHER NEWS...
The band has also been working hard in the studio, including a late-night session last night. They worked on a number of songs including "Respect" and "Folsom Prison Blues," as well as adding The Beatles' A Day in the Life" and the Rod Stewart classic "Maggie May." A live version of "Respect" will appear on the band's MySpace page as soon as some minor matters are striaghtened out.

In related news, the band has also designed some basic mock-ups for possible CD single releases later in the spring. Here are some early samples...feel free to tell us what you think.

The cover for "Respect."

The cover for "Folsom Prison Blues."

Band records music, causes mayhem in anticipation of Vegas tour

2007-01-12T13:05:00.000-08:00

Last night the band broke new musical ground by actually recording music. The band recorded a live version of the classic hit "Respect" that is sure to raise some eyebrows in the music world, both for its soulful "reimagining" of the classic track, and for the amount of Old Grand Dad Bourbon that was consumed in order to produce the song. The song will eventually be released on the band's MySpace site. Later in the evening, the band had some fun with a shopping cart that was abandoned in the hallway of the recording studio. Here are some images from the evening.

The band is booked to travel to Las Vegas on Saturday for a small concert for the two segments of the population that have been the most loyal followers of the band: Consumer electronics geeks and pornographers.

Sectarian Violence Rings in the New Year with Surprise Gig

2007-01-01T16:15:00.000-08:00

Happy new year! 2007 looks to be an important year for the band and it started off with a bang (among other sounds). Fans of the band and helpless bystanders were treated to an surprise super-secret concert at Los Angeles's oh-so exclusive Mountain Bar, located in the historically-confused Chinatown district. The band introduced new member, long-time roadie/tactical consultant, Tom Chin to a packed house of drunken hipsters and their designated drivers. Here are some photos from the event.

Here is the band getting set up for the brief gig.

The band in action!

Local guitar player/felon turns 30

2006-12-29T14:45:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday Jack!

Not Funny

2006-12-21T09:44:00.000-08:00

Hello everybody...this morning "someone" sent in a video to SVHQ (Sectarian Violence Headquarters) that was apparently meant to be humorous. We did not see the humor in the clip, or the fact that we still do not have real drums, but we thought that you, our loyal fans, might enjoy it.

Happy Thanksgiving from Sectarian Violence!

2006-11-22T19:16:00.000-08:00

Hello fans and detractors alike! We at Sectarian Violence HQ want to wish all of you a wonderful holiday. Thanksgiving is a time of reflection and giving back to the community, so we feel especially proud of how some of the members of the band have risen to the occaison to find the time and the energy to make the world a better place. As part of his plea agreement with the Federal government, Jack spent time teaching a disadvantaged child(if having a drooling, semi-literate, child-like father is a disadvantage) how to play various songs on the guitar. The little girl (whose was called "Hannah" by the social worker assigned to her case) was a quick study, and managed to show Jack how to play actual chords. Here are some images of the event released to the band by Sonoma county child protective services.

Congratulations to Michael!

2006-11-17T18:05:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to Michael, founding member of Sectarian Violence, on passing the California state Bar exam. While he can't give out free legal advice, he is still available to rock at a reasonable rate.

Jack is back behind bars!

2006-11-15T13:25:00.000-08:00

News on the Sectarian Violence front has been slow over the last couple of weeks...until today. The news is about Jack Abramoff (no...he did not win sexiest man alive...George Clooney did). Jack, or, as we like to call him, inmate No. 27593-112, is doing well and in high spirits despite being in prison. Since we believe strongly that no prison can hold him, we expect him to break out of his minimum security cell at any moment. Once free, we fully expect the band to rock the greater Los Angeles-area metroplex at a level that will entertain and delight their growing fan base, but won't cause the neighbors to complain.

Members of Sectarian Violence visit Culver City on Halloween Press Junket

2006-10-30T15:30:00.000-08:00

If you were in Culver City on Saturday night, you might have seen 3/4 of Sectarian Violence drumming up support for their recording efforts and meeting with their all-too-loyal fanbase. Here are some pictures taken by stunned on-lookers.

Jack and Michael enjoying some down time from recording.

Michael, Jack, and Katie80 posing for their adoring fans.

Michael and Jack with #1 Sectarian Violence fan Andrea.

Spreading the word!

2006-10-26T14:02:00.000-07:00

Hello fans! As some of you may know, our fans are the best fans of a band in our price range. They have taken it upon themselves to edit Wikipedia entries to link to our website. While we do not necessarily condone this exact sort of behavior, we do encourage our fans to spread information on our band wherever (and whenever) they can. If you come up with a clever idea, please share it with us here on the site. We will post the best examples on a date yet to be determined. Go to it, supporters of Sectarian Violence!

In other news, the band is busy putting the finishing touches on its most recent recordings, including a rousing rendition of David Bowie's "Life on Mars?" that features the piano stylings of Michael and the drum-programming skills of Katie80. AS soon as we lay down vocals and the the guitar bits, we will be ready to humbly take over the #1 spot in the pop charts! Our latest rehearsal also featured a jam session that will go down in the annals of music history as our first actual jam session.

We aim to please

2006-09-26T14:39:00.000-07:00

Hello fans! This posting is about requests. People request we play certain songs...people request that we endorse their product or issue...but most of all, We get a lot of requests for demo CD's and other recordings (oddly enough, people really seem to want 8-tracks of the band playing covers of songs from "The Sound of Music"). While we cannot supply our devoted fans with such things, we like to post media files for our adoring public to let them know what Sectarian Violence would sound and look like in their very own living room/halfway house/jail cell. Since nothing available on the internet closely resembles our sound, here is a file that we really, really enjoy.

We hope this helps satisfy your Sectarian Violence fix. We are planning to rehearse again soon, so hopefully we can provide some images and video in an effort to impress our rapidly expanding fan base. If there are any other songs you feel Sectarian Violence needs in its muscial arsenal, drop us a line and let us know!

We care a lot!

2006-09-14T13:28:00.000-07:00

We here at Sectarian Violence care a lot about issues. Important issues. Issues that will have a profound impact on our world. Here is a recent PSA we passed on due to conflicts in our schedule (we were also not formally invited to participate, but that is another matter enirely).

In other news, the band is close to securing a new rehearsal space from the good people at Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles. Now all we need is a drum kit...if you have one, let us know.

JR returns...and now he is a year older.

2006-09-06T00:50:00.000-07:00

JR has returned from the hole he was living in for the last week. We are not sure what happened to him, but we are told that he was working on his vocal style in a super-secret location known only to the inner circle of the band. Yesterday was also JR's birthday...the band celebrated with an impromptu rehearsal that filled the room with an echo-infused special vocal goodness that was difficult to describe and hard to forget. It was magical...Happy birthday JR!!!

Update on our recent rehearsal

2006-08-27T23:19:00.000-07:00

Hello fans and detractors alike! The posting regarding our recent rehearsal has generated a bit of a buzz in the Los Angeles music community. Additionally, the rehearsal has had some major ramifications within the band itself.

-Jack spent all of Friday and most of Saturday in a catatonic trance which he now claims was a "hang-over." He seems okay now, but he insists on making that asinine devil-horn hand gesture to everyone he sees--that could get old fast.

-When a local Sectarian Violence fan downloaded pictures of the rehersal, his computer exploded (see picture). Draw you own conclusions.

-J.R. has disappeared...seriously, we don't know where he is. If he turns up, let us know.

UPDATE: Contrary to recent rumors floating around the internet, J.R. is NOT dead. He is traveling right now. However, if you have a "J.R. sighting," send in all of the information here and we will post them.

Sectarian Violence...rehearse!

2006-08-25T19:02:00.000-07:00

Last night history was made in a small, crowded, dimly-lit apartment in an undisclosed corner of Los Angeles: the entire line-up of Sectarian Violence, for the first time since their formation, sat in a room and rocked like no band has rocked before. Here is a partial setlist from last night:

Route 66
Personal Jesus
Panic
Who's gonna ride your wild horses?
Unchained melody
Back in Black
Stairway to Heaven

Here are some remarkable images from last night!

The Mick, rocking the keyboards!

Jack, fresh from Federal prison, dropping a crazy bass line on the band!

Katie80 and JR, jamming on percussion!

Jack, playing several guitars with relative ease!

A picture paints a thousand words

2006-08-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

Here is an image sent to us from a friend...we were not sure what to make of it, but we liked it for some reason, so we decided to use it to help promote the band. We should advise you that if you have children, most dogs are not good babysitters, even with the children in a protective cage.

News and views

2006-08-03T12:40:00.000-07:00

Hey fans! We have read your e-mails, letters, and telegraphs and we know you want! The band has been extremely busy of late (although we know almost nothing about Elmo's capture by insurgents). Here is a much-needed Sectarian Violence round-up for the first week of August!

-J.R. is travelling to South Africa on safari...he also intends to acquire diamonds and a sizeable amount of gold from the Rand to fund the band's serious equipment needs and desires.

-The Mick is heading to Minnesota to meet with one of the many attorneys in our vast legal team. Fact: Sectarian Violence has the largest and most substancial legal team in the entire music world...take that, Better than Ezra!

-Katie80 is still living through the "trial of the century." Hopefully she is also practicing the drums in between witnesses.

-Jack Abramoff is still living incognito on the island...ahhh...island living!

Happy birthday Katie80!

2006-07-10T18:44:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone joins the us, the members of Sectarian Violence, in wishing our very own drummer-extraordinaire Katie80 a happy, happy birthday. Besides being the only member of the band that managed remain in Los Angeles during the hot summer months, Katie80's "legendary" drumming skills serve as the backbone of our whole sorted operation. Indeed, once we buy/borrow/steal a set for her to play, John Bonham himself will rise from the grave in pure excitement. Join us in wishing her the best on this blessed day (note: The picture of the frog playing a drum is the closed thing we have to a image of Katie80 playing the drums...be patient).

Rumors...not just a Fleetwood Mac album!

2006-07-09T16:30:00.000-07:00

There is a rumor floating around that one or more members of the band have relocated to Treasure Island in the San Francisco bay over the last few months. Well, we cannot confirm this particular claim, but here is a photo of a sign located near our new, state-of-the-art recording studio...you be the judge. By the way, for the record, that is a donkey wearing a gas mask.

On the Road with Sectarian Violence: Day Four

2006-07-02T22:07:00.000-07:00

Part one. Part two. Part three.

I had too much on the line to give up on finding the band, but after half an hour of searching at the Supra Convention, all my instincts were telling me to run -- to go home, swing back a couple of tequila shots, take a hot bath, cover the latest Lisa Loeb show… anything but waste more of my time and sanity.

A Toyota Supra, as it turns out, is a two-door go-getter that despite its toy car appearance can be coaxed into impressive speeds. The vast white salt flat outside of Salt Lake City was crowded for perhaps a square mile with these very small cars and the very intense people who love them. The convention was a car show in disguise: Supra owners showed off their tiny rides, while Supra buyers, dealers and hangers-on strolled along on the grainy, crystalline surface of the salt flats. Far in the distance, Utah’s raw mountains burst from the ground. To be standing on that expanse of flatness, ringed only by a mountain range God knows how many miles away…well, it will fuck with your perspective.

I sauntered around, trying to blend in. Cars, belt buckles, aluminum arms of folding chairs -- everything glinted in the pounding Utah sun. The rays bounced from the salty ground to the nearest shiny surface and back again. Meanwhile, some of the Supra groupie chicks, roving around in packs of two or three, seemed to be actually trying to get laid.

“I never saw one like that before,” cooed one groupie, winking at the owner of a bright purple Supra with an enormous spoiler. “Why don’t you take me for a ride?”

“Got no passenger seat, baby,” the owner said proudly, pointing to a hefty subwoofer belted lovingly into the front seat. His long sandy hair was slicked back with almost as much wax as he’d applied to his car.

I moved on. While I can always appreciate the desire for better sound quality, choosing speakers over ladies didn’t seem rock ‘n’ roll to me. Neither did this whole “convention,” actually. I tried to shrug off the thought, but Editrix had planted a doubt: What kind of band runs around Utah looking at peppy little cars?

I picked up a churro from a food cart, taking a big crispy bite of delicious fried dough. I glanced up at sun, hanging almost directly overhead now -- high noon.
When I looked back down, I realized with a start that I was standing not 20 feet away from the Sectarian Violence Corolla. The dusty, hubcap-free car was parked askew outside a ring of shiny Supras. Something was sitting on the trunk of the car, reflecting sunlight and throwing an additional glare around the salt flats. I squinted, feeling around in my pocket for my sunglasses to counteract the blinding shine. But as I moved closer to the car, I realized that this reflective item was just a very pale band member.

This was a boon. A score. A bonus track of mythic proportions. After hundreds of miles of chasing that car, I’d barely allowed myself to hope that I’d find a Sectarian Violence member anywhere near it. The trick now was not to frighten this gentle dweller of the rock’n’roll forest. I crept slowly towards the car, taking small steps, like Jack White showed me when he took me zebra hunting in the New York City Zoo.

The band member was engaged in some kind of skin care ritual, her face locked in a permanent wince. Every few seconds she squirted sunscreen from a tube, slathered it over her arms and neck, and then paused to take a sip of water from a bottle next to her on the trunk of the car. As I got closer, the reflective quality of her skin diminished, and I could see that she was not made of super-shiny tinfoil but just… very, very pale. With freckles.

I took another step closer, still staring at the band member. A light breeze ruffled my hair and blew and some stray flyers along the ground. The band member’s nose twitched. She snapped to attention, and looked straight at me.

I think she smelled the churro.

My cover blown, I decided to stop acting like I was hunting a defenseless New York zoo animal. (Don’t bother asking Jack what he does with the zebra hides. He won’t tell you.) I pulled out my best rock’n’roll swagger and loped the last few feet towards the car.

“You in the band?” I asked, like I already knew all about it.

“I might be,” she said, rubbing sunblock over the back of her neck. The smell of artificial coconut wafted towards me on the noon air. “But if you want any more information outta me, I’m going to need a bite of that churro.”

Q & A with Sectarian Violence

2006-06-15T15:07:00.000-07:00

We have been receiving tons of letters and e-mails lately asking a plethora of questions about the band. Now, in a effort to dispell the mystery surrounding the band, we will periodically answer some of these questions.

Hello guys,
I think you are the best! I can't wait to see you when you finally play my hometown. Frankly, I would sell my soul to the devil himself to see you guys play live. I wanted to know what a Sectarian Violence gig will be like? What should your loyal fans expect when you hit the stage?
Kilgore Trout
Rabbit Hash, Kentucky

Thanks for your question Kilgore. Well Mr. Trout, there will be plenty of gimmicks..err...showmanship. When we arrive in your town, we want to put on a show that gets some attention. While some popular music groups say its all about the music, we feel strongly that our music alone typically frightens people away. Simply put, we like to put on a show. Here is a video that shares the basic spirit of a typical Sectarian Violence show (people in bunny suits and fake blood).

Dear Sectarian Violence,
I would love to count myself as a fan of your band, but I am not sure what you guys sound like...can you post a sound file so we can hear you guys and figure out if you are truly as awesome as we think you are.
Sam Gompers, Jr.
Inmate #19073638
Ohio State Prison
Knockemstiff, Ohio

No, Sam...the answer is no. We have been told that there are bad, bad people that use the internet to steal music...can you believe this? We thought this claim was somewhat dubious, but as it turns out, this has been a major topic of discussion for the past decade. I guess we should read more newspapers. At any rate, our management has put a temporary ban on us posting sound files. However, this little clip should give you a taste of the style of playing we hope to employ during our shows (if we can acquire the proper equipment and learn to play our instruments).

Thanks for all you questions...keep'em coming!

Living on Monkey Chow and Rumors

2006-06-07T16:38:00.000-07:00

Hello loyal fans and hangers-on! We just wanted to make a quick post to express Sectarian Violence's full and unwavering support for the Last Angry Young Man. He has decided to live off of monkey chow/monkey food for the forseeable future as an experiment. Good show! He has certainly had an impact on us as a band and inspired us to continue to live on conventional forms of food. Please visit his diary and show your support for a man who has made the choice to live off the processed kibble normally fed to small primates.

Also, there have been rumors flying around that we are changing our name to "The Fitch Mountain Stranglers" after the mythical super-serial killer 'The Fitch Mountain Strangler.' This rumor is almost entirely untrue. We are and we shall be known as Sectarian Violence until the end of human existance, or until it is no longer profitable.

Just plain fun, Shatner Style!

2006-06-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

With the recent stories floating around about the band, we thought it might be a good idea to lighten things up a little bit with a nod to one of our biggest influences: William Shatner. Be it Captain Kirk or T.J. Hooker, or even his more recent stuff (Rescue 911 anyone?), we love Bill. Here is a very special video that should bring a smile to all of our loyal fans.

And for those people who just can't get enough Spock...

On the Road with Sectarian Violence: Part Three

2006-04-29T16:21:00.000-07:00

[here's part one. and part two.]

At first I was daunted by the task of tracking down the band as they made their way towards Utah. But I realized they were leaving me a trail of breadcrumbs -- in the form of hubcaps.

The Sectarian Violence Corolla, it seems, had had about enough of this nonsense, and was shedding its hubcaps in protest. I ran across the first one lying by the pavement on the highway just outside Vegas: it was dented, scarred, Toyota standard-issue, and something about it just screamed rock ‘n’ roll. I got back behind the wheel, pulled into traffic, and kept my eyes peeled for the next sign.

In about 100 miles, I spotted another of the poor car’s offerings nested in the gravel by the side of a freeway exit. The ramp headed straight to a greasy-looking outpost of a name-brand gasoline company: one of those franchises with a 30 minute-wait for an ill-smelling ladies room and only one brand of Baked Lays in stock. A little bell rang from above the door as I walked inside the station’s convenience store.

“Help you?” asked the oily-haired matron manning the register. She had company on this late shift. A teenage girl in a gas station smock was leaning over the counter by the cigarettes, her face only five inches from a copy of Teen People. The girl looked up, snapped her gum, and looked back down at Ashlee Simpson.

It was a long shot, but it was the best I had. “I’m looking for a band,” I said. “Four of them, three guys and a girl. Probably would have been jamming or grooving? Seen anybody like that around here?”

The matron sighed and shifted her weight. Her eyeliner looked like she had applied it with a ballpoint pen. “Coulda been. A guy in here earlier had a guitar with him, and a fedora. He was walking back and forth by the soda cases, strumming and singing some creepy song about ‘the more you ignore me,’ something like that. Just about gave Sheila here a good case of the jitters.” Sheila looked up again, shrugged, and refocused on the picture of Ashlee, who appeared in the photo to be wearing six multi-colored tank tops at the same time. “I like Morrissey,” Sheila muttered. “The Mozzer.”

“That sounds right,” I said. “Did this crooner mention his name?”

“Had some friends with him,” the matron said. “One with a shaved head? There was something in the eyes of that boy…something just plain wrong.” The matron lowered her sparse eyebrows. Her whole body quivered ever so slightly. “Didn’t you think so, Sheila? Did you see it in him?”

Sheila shrugged again and flipped a page.

“That look in his eyes -- was it rock ‘n’ roll?” I asked.

The matron glared. “If that’s what you call it.”

“So where were they going, did they say?”

“The shaved head one was talking about Supras. We figured he was probably headed for the little convention they’re having outside Salt Lake tomorrow morning.”

I knew I should ask her what the hell a Supra was and why it deserved a convention, but all of a sudden I was tired. Even the most dogged Rolling Marble reporters occasionally turn around and realize they’ve been awake -- and God forbid, sober -- for 36 hours and still haven’t met the band they’re supposed to be writing about. “So where’s this thing at, exactly?” I asked, hardly daring to hope for a response.

Sheila looked up. “It’s on the Bonneville Salt Flats, right off the freeway. My boyfriend said he was going to take me.” Sheila locked eyes with me and began to slowly blow an enormous bubble with her wad of grayish-purple gum.

“Thanks very much,” I said, and headed back for the Chevy.

I plopped behind the wheel and reached into my jacket pocket to turn on my cell phone, which chimed merrily and began to glow green. It showed 23 messages in my voicemail. Editrix must have been on the hunt. I deleted the contents of my inbox and dialed her direct line at the Rolling Marble headquarters. It was approaching 2 in the morning. She’d be there.

I heard a ring. And then a click. And then rage.

“Where the fuck have you been?” she snapped. “I’ve tried to reassign this story three times in the past 12 hours. Lucky for you no respectable reporter will take it.”

“Don’t take it away,” I said. “I’m on this thing. I am. This band is… they’re like no other band I’ve seen.” Primarily because I hadn’t yet seen them.

“What’s the lede so far?”

Ahhh. Truth would hurt here. “Rock ‘n’ roll pioneers travel the backroads, visiting the corners and eddies of America as yet untouched by the true spirit of rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Jesus, really? Are they that boring? Or are you that boring? Listen, if you can’t improve on that by the time you file I’m bumping you off the cover. See if you can get one of the band to kill a man. Or some fucking thing. Because James is working on a nice little piece about Nickelback and I'd have no qualms putting it out front. None.”

I heard a click, and she was gone. Leaving me to contemplate the bone-chilling prospect of writing this story for the inside pages. Of becoming the first rock ‘n’ roll reporter to dare to set foot in fucking Utah, all for the sake of a story that runs on page 12.

Not a chance. I climbed into my backseat for a quick nap before heading for the Supra convention.

Meet the Band: Michael

2006-04-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

Several of our fans have written to complain that they know so little about Michael, the mastermind behind Sectarian Violence. "What are his rock 'n' roll philosophies?" they ask. "Who are his influences? What will he do to help create world peace?" We recently sat down with the dynamic force behind America's hottest band to pick his brain about far more important subjects.

Katie80: So. Please select a cuisine: Chinese, Mexican, Sushi or Italian.

Michael: Oh, Mexican, hands down. I was having this conversation with someone the other day about this and they couldn't pick one, said they didn't have a favorite, that they had never really thought about it. How can you not have a favorite food? How can you not think about one of the most important and rewarding things you can do? Screw helping the homeless, you should be concentrating on more important things, like what you want to eat. I’m sure they are.

Katie80: Excellent point. At last count, how many instruments do you play?

Michael: Can I count synthetic instruments or just their controllers? What about trombone and bass trombone? (Laugh all you want, the Union has fought hard for our right to double pay when doubling on what is essentially the same exact instrument.)

Katie80: uhhh….

Michael: I'll just say one more than Prince.

Katie80: You're driving. The car in front of you has a Nickelback bumper sticker. What do you do?

Michael: Fortunately, being an obsessive fan of all things Bond since childhood, I have made a few modifications to my ride. Since rockets are so over the top, I think I'll go with the classic get in front of them and deploy the oil slick.

Katie80: I nominate your car to be the Official Vehicle of Sectarian Violence. Please describe a typical Sectarian Violence rehearsal. If we were to have rehearsals.

Michael: Well, as you know, the biggest problem is getting Abramoff in the room. Even when he was on the outside he was always meeting with various Republican operatives and extremely young looking boys and, now that he's in prison, we have to convince the warden to give us a conjugal trailer large enough to fit all four of us and the equipment, not to mention that we're Mormon.

Katie80: We're Mormon? Shit, no one told me.

Michael: Well, that's what the warden needs to believe to explain why all four of us are married and need to be in the trailer together.

Katie80: Oh, I see. Sounds like there's gonna be some cross dressing going on.

Michael: Though I think it should be enough to just let him know that Jack needs to rehearse in order to keep his demons under control.

You know, before he joined our band he killed that guy in Florida. Who knows what he could do in prison with a spoon.

Katie80: He has so much Passion.

Michael: Fortunately, for us, rehearsing simply isn’t necessary. I mean, when you put four musical powerhouses like us in a room together, magic is going to happen. By “rehearsing,” we would deny our fans their chance to witness it.

Katie80: How do you respond to critics of the band who contend that Sectarian Violence doesn't actually "play" or "make music of any kind"?

Michael: Well, you know, critics are themselves failed musicians and are bitter at our incredible success and talent. It's something they could only dream of and they have to take whatever opportunity they get to try to bring us down - kind of like the reviews of Julia Roberts on Broadway. I mean, I haven't seen her, but I'm sure she's electrifying, and for people to complain of her intermittent Southern accent and their inability to hear her past the second row, I mean, it just reveals how little they understand the craft and why they could never make it on their own.

Katie80: That is so true. Next Question: are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist Party?

Michael: I'll give you the same answer I’ve given on every government employment application and the State Bar of California’s Application for Determination of Moral Character: no.

Katie80: You’ve got a little boy. He shows you his butterfly collection plus the killing jar. What do you do?

Michael: You know what I always think about when I read books like the ones written by Thomas Harris and Bret Easton Ellis? That these guys are pent up serial killers. I mean, who the hell thinks about those sorts of things? Who the hell sits down, asks themselves, what do I want to do with the next year or two of my life? Oh, I know, write about performing freakishly disgusting, unimaginably cruel things to other people. You know, like killing a bunch of girls and making a suit out of their skin or deploying a rodent to, well, look, these guys are just sick. I know we're not supposed to imprison people for their thoughts, but am I the only one who thinks maybe these people are not ready to be out on their own, unsupervised, in society? Like maybe a little time in a quiet place with lots of guards where they can do their work in peace would be good?

Oh wait, that's from Philip K. Dick.

I really like him.

Nevermind.

Katie80: You're a replicant. I've UNCOVERED YOUR SECRET

Michael: They should have programmed me better. My version is supposed to be able to pass that test.

Katie80: I should have given you the tortoise question. Now, my dear replicant, please explain to me the popularity of that wretched fucking Black Eyed Peas song, "My Humps." This is keeping me up at night.

Michael: Have you seen the remix done by the Christian right where it's three camels and the wise men bringing gifts to the baby Jesus? That it made something like that possible I guess makes it somewhat redeemable.

It includes Flash animation, BTW.

Katie80: I gotta go check that out. Okay, last three. Favorite ice cream flavor?

Michael: There's this one made by Dreyer's that comes in small cups and is chocolate and Reese's peanut butter cups, it's ridiculously awesome.

Katie80: I shouldn't have asked you that. Now I want ice cream.

I understand that Sectarian Violence has a big tour coming up. Who will be opening for the band? What cities will you play?

Michael: We want to give local bands the opportunity to be seen and discovered so there will be a new group at every stop, basically whoever else shows up for open mic night. As far as cities, we're still getting travel arrangements approved by the DHS, they're worried Abramoff will foment some sort of revolution at our international dates, something about what he did in Angola. He's also still not welcome in the former Soviet Union.

Katie80: Tragic limitations. And finally: What are you wearing to the Grammy's next year?

Michael: A suit made from the skin of young girls.

Before we sign off, I'd like to take this opportunity to join the chorus and become the eighth former general to call from Defense Secretary Rumsfeld's ouster. I know from leading our secret war with Canada* that you must begin with a sufficient force to get the job done, and you need to know exactly how you're going to get in, get it done, and get out. Hell, I'm not saying everyone can be such a master of military operations to initiate and win a global conflict without any citizens or the media discovering it like I was, but this whole thing is just a travesty and an embarrassment.

[*Editor’s note: A Canadian official refused to confirm this report of a secret U.S. invasion. Although he did begin to sob quietly when questioned.]

On the Road with Sectarian Violence: Day Two

2006-04-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

[Day One is here.]

Hot on the trail of Sectarian Violence, I stocked up my Chevy with snack-sized bags of honey roasted peanuts and followed the band out I-15 toward Primm, Nevada. But I felt vaguely nervous as I crossed the state line.

Sure, I didn’t have any illegal drugs or underage women with me -- yet. But rock ‘n’roll reporters get nervous about boundaries: like the boundaries between sober and drunk, easy listening and adult contemporary, state court and federal court. And we get especially nervous about the boundary between the Las Vegas Strip and its Outskirts.

The Las Vegas Strip, for all its commercialized dangers, is a known quantity. If you heard live music on the Strip, you probably heard it someplace anesthetic like the House of Blues, where your weak vodka tonic boasted an alcohol-to-tonic proportion scientifically proven to get you just drunk enough to think the Boogie Knights sound great, but not so drunk that you realized while ogling the go-go dancers that you’d rather be at one of those “off the Strip” nightclubs with an ATM at every table. Or whatever. Point is, someone is in charge on the Vegas Strip. There are cameras. And chemists. You’re in good hands.

The Outskirts are an entirely different story. The Outskirts are where you wind up after drunkenly but emphatically extolling the cab driver to “Tlake me to your fwavorwite place” and then passing out in the backseat with your wallet fallen open on your chest. The Outskirts are where you wake up alone in a sticky vinyl booth, surrounded by half-empty Jello pudding cups and drained Mai Thai glasses, watching Screamin’ Jay Hawkins strut it out on stage -- but Christ, isn’t he dead? Did he ever play Vegas? Are you still in Vegas? And where’s your wallet? That, my friends, is the Outskirts.

So while I was unimpressed that Sectarian Violence hadn’t booked a venue at Caesars, I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt to any band that had the nerve to play the Outskirts. Even the semi-commercial ones like Primm.

After a few hours of the uneventful desert between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, I finally saw on the horizon the glimmer of neon lights that meant Primm -- in all of its $4.95 Prime Rib glory. Fresh out of peanuts and craving a stiff one, I examined the two sides of Primm’s one freeway exit for the hippest joint in the place -- the kind of venue that Sectarian Violence would use as their platform for rock’n’roll domination.

Primm wasn’t exactly jumping. Family-style casinos and gas stations, mostly -- I couldn’t see any of the dark, side-alley rock clubs that an up-and-coming musical sensation would frequent. Finally, I spotted some fading, fly-specked neon that looked like my best bet, and I steered my trusty Chevy off the freeway and into the parking lot of a little place called Rumsfeld’s Rumble Room. As I veered my tired wagon into an empty space, I spotted the Sectarian Violence Corolla -- an even sorrier vehicle than my furry friend had described, and sporting at least one flat tire. The elaborately carved head of what looked like a fertility goddess statue was poking out the passenger side window. I had hit the jackpot.

Inside of Rumsfeld’s Rumble Room, I needed a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. I heard Patsy Cline floating from a speaker somewhere, and the occasional soft clink of silverware on a plate. The joint’s customers were socked into booths or tucked into tables in small groups of two or three. They all looked strangely like White House staff, except for one guy alone at a table in the middle, nursing a bottle of Jack -- he just looked like Scott McClellan. In the back of the restaurant was a small stage with a couple of mic stands, but it was dark. No rocking and rolling yet. I doubted if this crowd could handle it anyway.

I made my way to the bar and sat down. I felt like I was being watched. That’s when I noticed an enormous gray cat was staring at me from its perch on top of the bar, in the corner nearest the door.

The bartender moseyed over and started polishing the surface in front of me with a bright white cloth. “What’ll it be?”

“What’s with the cat?” I asked, never looking away from the hulking gray beast. It glared back with eerie yellow eyes. I started to get the willies. A cat on the bar like that is just unsanitary.

“That’s Rumsfeld,” the bartender said.

“He pour the drinks?”

“No.” The bartender gave me a hard stare.

“He rumble?”

“He might.”

The bartender was still staring. So was the cat. On the jukebox, Patsy Cline started to smooth her way through the chorus of “Crazy.” I knew how she felt. But I shook it off. No cat was going to intimidate this reporter.

“Scotch rocks. Single malt.”

The bartender dropped the white cloth. “You’re not another one of those connoisseurs, are you? I just had one in here made me open every bottle of wine we stock so he could taste ‘em. All those bottles are gonna go to vinegar now. I don’t get that much goddamn call for Muscat around here.”

“I’m looking for a band, I think they might be playing here. Sectarian Violence?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. That’s what I was trying to tell you. That lead singer fellow had me pour him a glass of everything on the wine list, and he sits down and he sips them all, and he’s making notes on a legal pad and shaking his head the whole time. And then he tells me they’re not going to play here because the wine is ‘sub par.’ That fellow had 30 glasses lined up in a row right here. I can tell you, the rest of these good people thought he was crazy.” The bartender made a sweeping gesture towards his Department of Defense-looking clientele and went back to furiously scrubbing at the surface of the bar. “Co-president of the wine club…” he muttered.

Shit. Sectarian Violence was headed for the road again. And I hadn’t even gotten that scotch. “Did they say where they were going?”

The bartender frowned and began attacking an imaginary spot of gunk on the gleaming wood. “I can tell you, we’ve had plenty of classy acts in here. We had the Platters. We had Yakov Smirnoff. The Platters never asked to see the wine list, I can tell you that.”

“Seriously man. I gotta find that band. Did they say where they were going?”

The cat got up and stretched over on its corner of the bar. Amazingly, the beast looked even bigger all elongated like that. The bartender glanced at the cat and then back at me. “Band’s still probably in the green room, back that way.” He gestured toward a dim hallway near the stage.

“Thanks,” I said, and dropped a $20 on the bar. Let my Editrix pay for some of that wasted Muscat.

I bounded down the hall and through a banged up door marked “storage.” Behind it was a shabby little room that looked like a high school teacher’s lounge, complete with 20-year old carpet and a cracked vinyl sofa with stuffing bursting from the cushions. The whole place smelled like fried eggs. A signed poster of Yakov’s smiling face hung on one wall.

But mostly, I noticed the hot groupie was sprawled on the sofa, one foot propped up on the armrest. She had rings on her toes, and a whole lotta leg. I made a mental note to bring a camera on future assignments.

She stretched, and yawned, and turned to look at me. I got the distinct impression that I had woken her up. But I had no time for niceties. If I didn’t hurry, I might never catch the band. And God only knew where a tour that started on the Vegas Outskirts was going to wind up.

“I’m looking for the band,” I stammered at the groupie.

“The Jack Abramoff band?” she asked.

“What?”

“Jack Abramoff. He was just here. He said he was here with some kind of band.” She stretched again and wiggled her hips, settling in on the worn-out sofa.

“How do you know it was Jack Abramoff?”

She glared. “I read the papers, douche bag. He looked just like the pictures.”

“Did he say he was Jack Abramoff?”

“No,” said the groupie, running her fingers through her hair. “But he sure did lobby me.”

I pulled out my tape recorder and snapped down the record button. “Really? Tell me more.”

She sighed, and gave me the kind of disdainful look you hope never to get from a woman -- especially a hot, half-naked groupie. “Utah,” she said. “They were talking about Utah a lot. And that chick who was with them was bitching about some kind of fertility goddess, threatening to throw her out the window. She looked pissed.” The groupie’s fingers had located a knot in the hair at the back of her head, and she began to untangle it. “Do you mind? I was taking a nap.”

I left Rumsfeld’s Rumble Room through the back door -- Listen, I may have faced down Keith Richards’ Chocodile-deprived rage, but I wasn’t about to let that cat take a snipe at me. I jogged round the building to the parking lot, hoping the rock ‘n’ roll gods would bless me and the Corolla would still be there.

Alas, it was not. The band must have escaped while I was talking to the groupie. But they had left me a souvenir -- the fertility goddess, who stood in all of her five feet of carved wooden glory right next to the passenger door of my trusty Chevy. A calling card? A warning?

I was going to have to call the Editrix soon, but I decided to postpone the unpleasant task of telling her that I had not yet tracked down the band I was profiling. What can I say: I don’t have insurance right now, so I don’t take unwarranted chances with my health.

As I drove around Primm looking for a place to buy a map of Utah, I pondered my assignment. What the hell kind of rock ‘n’ roll band books a gig in a saggy steak joint like Rumsfeld’s? And then won’t play because of the wine list? What the hell kind of band even drinks wine? Is their high-falutin taste how they managed to recruit a Washington lobbyist? And what the hell were they planning to do in Utah?

I was about to find out.

The Ultimate Fan Test, Part 1

2006-04-19T22:11:00.000-07:00

Okay, kids, it's that time. Time to find out whether you've got what it takes to be a member of the power elite, whether you are one of the illuminati who knows enough to join the cabal that is the Jack Abramoff Real Ultimate Fan Club.

Which one of the following facts about Jack Abramoff is NOT true?

(a) He was a former bodybuilder.

(b) He once impersonated an Afghan warlord during a U.S. sponsered meeting of rebel insurgents in Angola.

(c) He wrote and produced the 80's action blockbuster Red Scorpion, featuring He-Man Dolph Lundgren.

(d) He killed a man in Florida (where "killed" includes an ordered hit).

(Don't despair, if you don't know you can find the answer in this article.)

New feature: On the Road with Sectarian Violence

2006-04-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

The following is part one of a series of stories about the band that are set to be published by Rolling Marble, a new music publication (it is like a mix between NME and Ranger Rick...seriously cutting edge stuff). Enjoy!

On the Road with Sectarian Violence: Day One.

The world of rock and roll is anything but ordinary, and reporters for Rolling Marble are used to weird assignments.

Go with Gwen Stefani to get her eyebrows waxed -- and write about it? Done.

See what happens when you steal Keith Richards’ secret stash of Chocodiles? Done. (And I can tell you, it’s not a good idea. He gets cranky.)

I’ve profiled more bands than have ever played at Coachella and Lollapalooza -- combined. I know what Michael Stipe eats for breakfast every day, (baby bunnies, deep fried), although I couldn’t tell you the same about my own brother.

So when my editor, Rolling Marble’s cruel and lovely Editrix, called me and told me she wanted me to go on tour with some band named Sectarian Violence, I wasn’t phased. I kissed my girlfriend goodbye (What was her name again? Lucy? Lilly? Love you, sweetheart). I packed my bags, my notebook, unplugged my coffee pot and headed down to Los Angeles, where my Editrix says the band is based. I didn’t know it then, but I was barreling like sixteen shells from a thirty-ought six towards the greatest rock and roll adventure of my life.

The first clue that this assignment was out of the ordinary? When I pulled up outside the band headquarters in [soon to be disclosed location], Sectarian Violence had already split. Left town, taken off. No forwarding address, not even a postcard -- even for the sake of a front page spread in a national music rag like Rolling Marble. Most bands are scrambling to put me up for an all-expense-paid weekend: score me some weed, get me laid, play the new tracks, bare their souls. But not Sectarian Violence -- this one didn’t even leave a post-it on the front door.

I thought about ditching this story, turning back around and heading home to my girl. (Lulu? It’s Lulu, right?) But my Editrix is dangerous if denied. I learned that lesson the hard way in 1997, when I refused to write her a cover story about some screechy Lisa Loeb follow-up album. Jesus, my knee still hurts when it rains.

So I resolved to collect information about the band’s whereabouts as best I could -- from passers-by on the street. To be getting attention from my Editrix and Rolling Marble, this Sectarian Violence must be huge. Surely some of these Mid-Wilshire hipsters had seen them go -- wherever they went.

I stood out on the sidewalk for a few minutes, fiddling with my tape recorder, watching cars go past. Soon, my first mark ambled down the street. I knew he was hip because of the giant, fuzzy mutton chops hanging precariously from his square jowls. A man with this much facial hair would definitely know the tour dates for Sectarian Violence. As he approached, I saw he was carrying three half-empty bottles of hot sauce in each hand. I decided not to ask. Kids these days.

“Man,” I said. “I’m trying to track down this rock’n’roll sensation, this band that’s sweepin the nation, Sectarian Violence. You seen ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Mutton Chop said. “They left a few hours ago. They were out front of the building here, loading up a bunch of crap into this nasty, banged-up Corolla. Then they split.”

Intriguing. The band travels light. An electronica influence, perhaps? No need for a drum set? “Did ya see what they packed, buddy?” I asked, pressing play on my trusty Sony recorder. “Turntable? Omega 8 synth?”

“Buncha random crap,” said Mutton Chop, nervously clinking his hot sauce bottles together. “A baby Taylor guitar, a keyboard, a bunch of Johnny Cash LPs, and this wooden saggy-titted fertility goddess statue that was practically six feet tall. Didn’t look like they were gonna be too comfortable in that Corolla. The girl that was driving looked pissed, actually.”

I cocked an eyebrow at my furry new friend, and angled the tape recorder closer to his mouth. “Interesting…”

“I gotta go man,” Mutton Chop said, glancing nervously at the front door of the nearby apartment building. “I gotta do some homework, or I’m gonna flunk out of law school.”

To each his own, I suppose. “Did they say where they were going?”

“Yeah,” said Mutton Chop, as he loped away. “Something about their first gig being in Primm. In Nevada.”

Nonsense for Mid-April

2006-04-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

While we wait for the rest of the interviews for our special "meet the band" feature, we thought we would up date everyone on the latest band news. Check it out!

-Contrary to rumors, we will NOT be headlining this year's Coachella music festival. Sorry.
-Number of times we have almost broken up over artistic differences: zero.
-Number of times we have almost broken up over what bar to hang out at: six.
-We are currently coming up with a top ten list of people we want to collaborate with once we are famous. Feel free to leave your suggestions, serious and otherwise.
-Here is, in no particular order, a top ten list of people we can't work with (because they are dead or too busy to return our calls).

1. Janis Joplin
2. John Bonham
3. Joe Strummer
4. Michael Hutchence
5. Anton LaVey (Not a musician...on the list to boost our credentials with the devil).
6. Ronald Reagan (on the list for same reasoning as Anton LaVey)
7. Freddie Mercury
8. Elton John (not really dead...just dead to us).
9. John Lennon
10. Marvin Gaye

Okay...the Anton LaVey thing was a *little* odd and the attack on former President Reagan, while funny, was uncalled for. Sorry to Satanists and Republicans alike.

BREAKING NEWS!

2006-03-29T10:46:00.000-08:00

We here at Sectarian Violence headquarters just got this story off the wire. We have been instructed by Mr. Abramoff to inform his loyal fans that no jail will hold him or end his dream to play covers of obscure songs at open mic nights and dive bars. More to follow...

Abramoff Gets Almost 6 Years in Prison

By CURT ANDERSON, Associated Press Writer

MIAMI (AP) --

Disgraced former lobbyist Jack Abramoff was sentenced to five years and 10 months in prison in a Florida fraud case, the minimum sentence allowed.

Abramoff and former partner Adam Kidan pleaded guilty to conspiracy and wire fraud stemming from the ill-fated purchase in 2000 of the SunCruz Casinos gambling fleet.

The sentence won't start immediately so the pair can continue cooperating in a Washington corruption investigation and a Florida probe into the murder of former SunCruz owner Konstantinos "Gus" Boulis.

Before the hearing, more than 260 people — including rabbis, military officers and even a professional hockey referee — wrote letters on the men's behalf asking the federal judge for leniency.

The letters, obtained by The Associated Press, put a new spin on the foibles and crimes of a man who became the face of Washington's latest corruption scandal.

"Jack is a good person, who in his quest to be successful, lost sight of the rules," National Hockey League referee Dave Jackson wrote, describing the time Abramoff brought 14 youngsters to his dressing room before a game.

Kidan, in his own letter to the judge, said he knew the SunCruz deal was wrong but said he "was very caught up in the fast paced world of my partner and the high profile that came along with it." He added, "I am not the horrible person that the media has written about."

In the Florida case, Abramoff and Kidan admitted concocting a fake $23 million wire transfer to make it appear they had made a large cash contribution to the $147.5 million purchase of SunCruz Casinos. Based on that fake transfer, lenders provided the pair with $60 million in financing.

The same week Abramoff pleaded guilty to the SunCruz fraud, he entered guilty pleas to three federal charges as part of a wide-ranging corruption probe that could involve up to 20 members of Congress and aides, including former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, R-Texas. No date has been set for his sentencing in that case.

Abramoff, 47, and Kidan, 41, are also expected to give statements in the investigation into the Feb. 6, 2001, slaying of Boulis, who was gunned down at the wheel of his car amid a power struggle over the gambling fleet. Three men face murder charges, including one who worked for Kidan as a consultant at SunCruz and who allegedly has ties to New York's Gambino crime family.

Both Abramoff and Kidan have repeatedly denied any role in or knowledge of the Boulis murder. But prosecutors say Kidan has not been ruled out as a suspect and defense attorneys say Abramoff could provide critical inside information about the dispute with Boulis, who also founded the Miami Subs restaurant chain.

________________________________________________________________

Associated Press writer John Solomon in Washington contributed to this report.

Meet the band #1: Mr. Jack Abramoff

2006-03-22T15:03:00.000-08:00

Enough already with the phone calls and fan mail! We hear you loud and clear. You, our loyal fans, want to know more about the members of Sectarian Violence, the hot new semi-musical sensation. To slake your obsessive thirst, here’s an insider’s peep into the mind of lead guitarist Mr. Jack Abramoff. He agreed to an IM interview with Katie 80, on a recent afternoon when both were supposed to be making far more productive use of their computing technology.

Katie80: Favorite soda?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Oh...that's easy. I love Mr. Pibb. Not "Pibb Xtra,” which the cruel people at Coca-Cola are trying to peddle these day...just good ol' Mr. Pibb for me.

Katie80: What's your best alternate name for the band?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: The best name...hmmm... I have to say that I really like “The Skullfuckers." Sadly, I was vetoed on that one.

Katie80: Yeah, I second that veto. First song you ever played on guitar? (That's first song played all the way through, now...)

Mr. Jack Abramoff: That makes a huge assumption that I have been able to play a song all the way through. Still, a good question. I think it was U2's Running to Stand Still....a slow song with only 4 chords. I guess that was it, but I could be wrong.

Katie80: Next question: Why does Nickelback suck so hard?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: I am sure there are teams of skilled researchers all around the world attempting to articulate an answer to that question. I will just say that if Sectarian Violence saw Nickelback in a dark alley, there would be trouble. Serious trouble.

Katie80: Yeah. I think RAND is actually looking into that one.

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Yes...I believe they are.

Katie80: Pretend you have some pasta: marinara, pesto, alfredo, or other? (Please specify ‘other.’)

Mr. Jack Abramoff: I have not, nor have I ever been, a member of the Communist par---err...uh...ohhhhh...well, now we get to the serious questions. Probably Pesto. Probably.

Katie80: What's in your car CD player right now?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Right now I am listening to David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust. It is his best work, I think. We might do some tracks from that album. That being said, I would like to be the first to apologize to Mr. Bowie.

Katie80: Heh. Well, Ziggy did play guitar. Last album purchased? (As opposed to received.)

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Well, I did receive a great Johnny Cash mix CD from Dick Cheney, but I think the last CD I bought was a used copy of Blur's Parklife. I love the guitar work of Graham Coxon...he has become quite a star across the pond. Wait...can you not mention the Dick Cheney gift thing...I don't need any additional problems.

Katie80: I'm sorry, that was on the record. You'll have to take it up with my editor. Top 5 albums to listen to while writing something.

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Oh...hmmm...well, I love to listen to Beck's Stereopathetic Soul Manure (well-known for its song "Satan gave me a taco"). Next on my list is Radiohead's Ok Computer (because I will never, ever be that good). Following that, anything by Creed (because I will never, ever be that bad). After that, The Queen is Dead by The Smiths. To round it out, They Might Be Giants’ Factory Showroom (easily their most interesting album).

Katie80: Two parter: A) Most over-rated current rock band? B) Most under-rated? And by the way, the correct answer for Part A is She Wants Revenge.

Mr. Jack Abramoff: She Wants Revenge...Yes, they sure do suck. Quite a pity, really. Well, another over-rated musician-type would easily be Rob Thomas. Not a fan really. Kinda hate that guy. Damn his sharp looks and ability to look good on film. The fact that Barry Manilow has had a number one album in this century bothers me to no end. On the under-rated side, I really like Spoon, The Arctic Monkeys (despite the fact that they are in danger of joining the first group), and, for an old-school choice, Ben Folds (his cover of "Bitches ain't shit" is remarkable).

Fall Out Boy also sucks like a cheap prostitute.

Sorry.

Katie80:I’ll tell him. Last three questions: 3. What's your favorite karaoke song?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Well, that's tough. I do a great "Moonriver," but my favorite is Morrissey's "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get." Classic and creepy all at the same time...just like our band

Katie80: 2. What is it about Ryan Seacrest that feels so, so wrong?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: I don't know...his hair is certainly science run amok. Still, I admire the fact they despite the fact that he has no marketable talent, no real personality, and no charm, he still manages to drag himself to work everyday in a vain attempt to entertain America's drooling masses. Kudos to you, jackass.

Katie80: Who will be wearing leather pants during the first live
performance of Sectarian Violence?

Mr. Jack Abramoff: Me.*

*Editor’s note: This is not what Jack actually said. But it’s what he should have said.

St. Patrick's Day Special: Lost Tryout Tape

2006-03-16T11:32:00.000-08:00

Hello loyal fans of Sectarian Violence! In honor of St. Patrick's day we decided to post a video of a tryout we held for a full-time bass player. Needless to say, his talents overwelmed the members of Sectarian Violence. Sadly, we lost out on the services of this individual when he decided to take a position in the fast-food industry. Our loss is El Pollo Loco's gain.

Abramoff Kicks Off Public Relations Tour

2006-03-14T14:22:00.000-08:00

LOS ANGELES, March 14 – Jack Abramoff, formerly one of the nation's most influential and highest paid lobbyists, has reportedly decided to cash in on his newfound infamy by fronting an 80’s cover band.

Insiders in Washington are shocked but those close to Abramoff, who recently pleaded guilty to federal charges of conspiracy, tax evasion, and mail fraud for his role in defrauding Indian tribes of $83 million, said they saw it coming.

“Oh, he always had the itch,” Phylo Xanakis, Abramoff’s college roommate, explained. “Man, Jack was one bad mother[tr]ucker. I mean, you talk about having soul, this guy ate souls for breakfast. He was a one man rhythm and blues machine, something like a phenomenon.”

Phylo recalled that Abramoff used to stay up until two in the morning practicing licks and trolling the then fledging internet for guitar tabs.

What is most surprising, say those members of the recording industry who were willing to comment publicly, is who Abramoff chose to join him in his new band. When celebrities in other contexts, such as Jennifer Lopez, Bruce Willis, and Eddie Murphy, have tried to pursue their musical ambitions, RIAA spokesperson Jonathon Hunter noted, they have typically hidden their “complete lack of any discernable talent” behind a stable of crack studio musicians. In contrast, Abramoff appears to be the most experienced member of his new band.

Sectarian Violence, as the group is known, consists of Abramoff on bass and guitar along with three previously unknown graduate students of varying non-music disciplines. A woman known only as “Katie80” is currently finishing a degree in Library Science and will purportedly be playing vibes and drums, according to the band’s website (sectarianviolence.blogspot.com). (When contacted, "Katie80" denied any involvement with the group and refused to participate in our photo shoot.)

J.R. Thompson, a JD/MBA student who, friends say, at one time had political ambitions, has aligned himself with the disgraced former lobbyist, a pariah in Washington, as the group’s lead vocalist. Michael Summers, a failed jazz trombonist and current student at the University of California’s bankrupt Boalt Hall School of Law, has vowed to learn to play guitar to round out the group's sound.

While some might contend having a classically trained former musician on hand might be a boon for Sectarian Violence, Mitchell Morris, a professor of musicology at UCLA who knew Summers when he was a student there, vehemently disagreed. “First, you’ve got to remember that this guy was a hack. Second, he’s not even playing the ‘bone. They’ve tapped him to play an instrument he doesn’t even own. The last time [Michael] held something with strings on it was for his role in that ridiculous movie Pumpkin, and from what I hear that was a violin and he cut open the arm of the poor sucker sitting next to him by breaking a string in a futile attempt to tune it. Dumbass.”

How Abramoff managed to compile such a ragtag group is still unknown. Michael Scanlon, Abramoff’s former partner and one-time press secretary to former House Majority Leader Tom Delay, said, “Even back in the good old days, Jack was always going on and on about ‘putting the band back together.’ Since our indictments, it’s only gotten worse. He keeps saying something about finding God and being on some kind of mission.”

When contacted about this story, Abramoff himself called his band “powerful enough to turn goat piss into gasoline” and noted he had already ordered shag-covered full stacks that went to 12. He said, despite how some have interpreted the name and timing, that the group had no political agenda.

Sectarian Violence will be launching a fifty state tour this August, when its members have learned their instruments and had the opportunity to meet. Abramoff’s attorney hopes the sold-out concerts will shift public opinion in favor of his client and persuade Judge Ellen Huvelle to impose a more lenient sentence. Federal sentencing guidelines, which the Supreme Court recently made advisory, call for Abramoff to serve nine and a half to eleven years. Abramoff, subject to a lifetime ban from congressional lobbying, said his primary purpose was to reach the American public directly and tell them about how “our friends at Monsanto can change your life, too.”

***

While I can't agree with all the content of this article, especially the allegations about Katie80's reluctance to be a part of the greatest band the world has ever seen, I wanted to keep our fans up to date on all the great publicity we're generating. See you at the next show!
-Michael

Requests anyone?

2006-03-09T13:49:00.000-08:00

Hello everybody...and by everybody, I mean the members of the band and everyone who accidently pursued this link through "Stuck in the Spare Bedroom." Anyway, before Sectarian Violence becomes the most important musical/cultural movement in the history of western society, I thought I would ask all of you out there to make requests...what song would you like us to play/attempt? Alright...go to it!

By the way, here is the interesting Sectarian Violence "story of the day."

We are Sectarian Violence!

2006-03-06T18:27:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the official Sectarian Violence blog and website. What is Sectarian Violence? Well, we are....who are "Sectarian Violence?" This is the line-up:

J.R.: Lead vocals

The Mick: Keyboards, guitar, vocals, trombone

Jack: Guitar, bass, vocals

Katie80: Vibes, drums, vocals

So far, this is all we are, but we are working on it. Our sound is difficult to describe but hard to forget. Once the authorities allow us to play, we will rock. Seriously.