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Mike Magrann with CH3 in Seattle in 2018. (Cat Rose photo) |
By Andy
This wouldn't be the first time that I shed tears while reading Mike Magrann's literary offerings.
While sharing eloquent, edgy and witty anecdotes about his powerhouse band CH3 on the liner notes of its "Rejected" cassette in 1989, I was eagerly drawn -- again -- into their intriguing world of music, friendship, highs and lows. By story's end, my jaw was slightly locked as I mewled, smiled and shook my head after experiencing the vivid and relatable writing style that one hopes to locate and covet amongst the bazillion words that are cemented onto pages.
A bit of crying is a good thing while poring over the written word (you won't lose any punk points, I promise). That shows that the writer has moved you, made you feel a part of their orbit for a while. You belong with them.
And like the gashing and swirling opening riffs of CH3's "Catholic Boy" and "Indian Summer," singer/guitarist/songwriter Magrann continues to rattle those trusty fingers upon a laptop keyboard and fully engages us once again with his debut book, "Miles Per Gallon." DiWulf Publishing does us all an immense favor by placing this 334-page tome in front of our welcoming eyes and minds. Major score.
In the summer of 1983, while I was sweating it out in the kitchen at Carl's Jr. and swiping fries when the boss wasn't looking, Magrann and CH3 were plowing across the US and portions of Canada in their nearly unstoppable Blue & White Chevy van to plunk their punked-up tunes and beery chaos onto club stages and into the homes of fellow bands, pals and whoever would take a chance on these road-worn fellows and their rambunctious roadies.
Magrann masterfully guides us through the twists and turns of the joys and horrors of touring and makes us wish we were there -- well, some of the time -- alongside the ragged and rugged CH3 coterie. You'll see yourself in there somewhere: their beer is your beer; their solid or shitty set is yours. You get it. Add in a brawl or two, another triumph and disappointment and you're nestled in the Blue & White with this crew and bounding across the states and Great White North. It's not always pretty, but it's fucking enticing and entertaining. We need to know about these adventures and decide for ourselves -- with Magrann's words echoing through our hopeful/resistant heads -- should we stay or should we go? (When I corresponded with the punk band Mad Parade back in the day and said that my band Sorex was planning a tour, their response was, "Don't go! haha.")
Family and friendships are paramount elements to Magrann's story, as well. When the band is not tearing up the road, the author brilliantly weaves family life and his comradeship with lifelong pal and CH3 guitarist Kimm Gardener into "Miles Per Gallon." These are surely the most touching parts to this book and, once again, you feel as if you're there at the dinner table or in the practice room while you vigorously flip the pages to see the outcomes of the myriad situations that are presented to the reader.
However, my main concern was hoping that Magrann and Gardener would discover that someone eventually bought their debut EP at Zed Records in Long Beach, CA. I smiled and guffawed when this story came across my radar.
This is where my connection with the band enters the story. One Saturday during my birthday month of October in 1981, my mom toted me to Zed's and handed me a pair of $20s and said she would return in an hour after hitting some local shops. While inside Zed's, I spotted the CH3 EP immediately since I had heard one of the Cerritos, CA, unit's snarling tunes on Rodney on the Roq's radio show. Who were these goofy-looking dudes on the back cover? Which one was the razor-sharp vocalist?
Anyway, I purchased the CH3 EP along with DOA's "Hardcore '81," Minor Threat's debut EP and "The Future Looks Bright Ahead" compilation tape.
Perhaps on that fine day (I'd like to think so, anyway), Magrann and Gardener were in the shop on one of their excursions and spotted me at the register as the cashier tossed them a wink that someone was going for it. The CH3 EP would soon be happily spinning on their turntable at home. "Does that kid know what he's getting himself into?" they might say with a chuckle. Who knows? I had now become part of the CH3 world and soon witnessed their smashing live show at the Cuckoo's Nest in Costa Mesa, CA.
And as I write this review, I'm still on board with the guys. Magrann remains one of the key scribes in my sphere (often contributing to this blog) and it was tough to see "Miles Per Gallon" come to an end. When his proverbial tank is once again filled with golden words, I'll be waiting to crack open the book and tag along for the ride.
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