Val saw this album in the trash and was tempted to take but persuaded not to. The next day it appeared stuck in her door, with some pictures blown down the street. We collected them, I scanned them, and here they are.
The band featured is Circle of Shit. Some dude was quoted in the PW remembering Circle of Shit. From their site:
"I remember it was at Love Hall, which has since burned to the ground, but used to be located at the corner of Broad and South," says Gregg Finizio. "It was a great bill: Hüsker Dü, the Minutemen, a couple other bands I can't remember, and a local band called Circle of Shit."
The Dead Milkmen even mention them in a song
We are not Blunder Boys
We are not Circle of Shit
We are not F.O.D.
We are not an art fag band
Good times. It all reminds me of Cory Doctorow's story Craphound
The photo of my Dad posing sent me whirling through time to Toronto's Muscle Beach in the east end, and hearing the tinny AM radios playing weird psychedelic rock while teenagers lounged on their Mustangs and the girls sunbathed in bikinis that made their tits into torpedoes.
It all made poems. The old pulp novels and the pawn ticket, when I spread them out in front of the TV, and arranged them just so, they made up a poem that took my breath away.
Yeah so that's it. Enjoy