THRASHER - July 2023

Elijah Berle

Okay, we have Elijah Berle here. Half of me is here; the other half is still in China.

Don't Mess With Texans!

We were standing on the side of the building with our dicks in hands when we heard the gun cock behind us.

Na-Kel Smith

Like Henny and ‘cream, even Nak’s bails are smooth

Jesse Garza: Deck Restorer

Ever seen a badass fully restored ‘57 Chevy, all cherry’d out looking like it just rolled off the showroom floor? Well my buddy Jesse Garza does similar work but with skate decks. He can take your dusted, crusted old plank and time machine that bad boy straight back to the ‘80s. I hit him up to see what goes into restoring a skate deck and why it’s such a rare discipline.

Metallica

Kill ‘Em All and Ride the Lightning have fueled many heated sessions over the years. Now Metallica is ten albums deep spanning over their 35-plus years existence. Hardwired… to Self-Destruct fits right in with their early albums and they’ve been promoting it by playing smaller venues around the world, giving their fans an intimate experience to blow out their eardrums. James Hetfield took some time before playing Oakland’s Fox Theater to talk about technology, the symphony and longevity. 

FLO Mirtain

I Don't Even Have My License Interview

Tales Of Rails Al Partanen Gets Kinky

Tales Of Rails Al Partanen Gets Kinky

Gorillaz

Gorillaz

Dress Up

"Punk fuck hardcore skate punk thrash Austin Texas”—eight words that perfectly sum up the eccentric (read: controversial) four-piece outfit, Dress Up. Comprised of vocalist Alex Bond, guitarist Anthony Sardella, bassist Max Fitzgibbon and drummer JoJo Williamson, Dress Up is band of skaters who just happen to cross dress at every performance. Bond explains, “We have fun doing it and that’s exactly why—as skaters—we thought it was cool to eliminate the masculine vibe you would expect from us. Our main message is having fun and doing what you want.” Bond had some time in between shows to talk “Drug Abuse,” the band’s moniker and one of their wildest shows.

Grieves

I caught Grieves at the Mystic Theater in Petaluma, CA. I laughed on the way when we passed the Birkenstock sandals headquarters. That ain’t gangsta. When we got to the show and my wife said, “It smells like manure,” I laughed again; hell of a setting for a night of rap music. On the car ride up we’d been listening to Kendrick and YG spin tales about Compton, or “Bompton” if you will. I was a little sad to see that no one in Petaluma was “bickin’ back bein bool.” And yet, when Grieves took the stage I was transported to another world. One where hip-hop and culture are a nation without borders and there is the promise of transcendent unity in booty shaking. All it took was flow, and heart and Grieves had them in abundance.