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I’m classin’ up the joint here! Stuart Schrader of http://www.shit-fi.com produced an entry for me today on the infamous Chemotherapy 7″. You get not only detailed information about the actual record, but also an explanation of what exactly “shit-fi” is, and for once, some college level writing.

Stuart: German rare punk “jeweler” Ingo Eitelbach’s offerings have not been up to the standards he set at the end of the 90s/beginning of the 00s, when it seemed every sale list he published contained Jackie Shark and the Beach Butchers or Tapeworm. Well, times is tough. Recently, he’s been auctioning a lot of hardcore that no one cares much about, but there are still a few jewels to be found. For example, Chemotherapy.Chemotherapy’s lone 7″ is one of the, if not the, earliest examples of shit-fi American hardcore. By that I mean a hardcore record released with a malicious lack of pretense of “quality” after it was already possible, and preferable, to produce “quality” hardcore records. Gang Green’s earliest recordings were works of accidental genius but there was talent and intention underneath there. In 1983, polished hardcore records and even post-hardcore records were beginning to appear, changing expectations for listeners. (In my opinion, within a year, the US hardcore scene would become a shadow of what it had been in the three years prior.) Chemotherapy’s record is a work of intentional talentless teenaged garbage. They aimed to produce an extremely simple, primitively recorded, tuneless, ugly, offensive hardcore record, and they succeeded. Why? Perhaps to do so was to be punk, to reject what was already becoming hardcore punk dogma (ie, fast, tight, well-recorded and/or innovative, intelligent, lefty). Maybe they were a caricature of hardcore punk. If so, the joke’s on them because lots of people actually like to listen to music this rough and consider it innovative and brilliant in its own way. Still, with a “musical” interpretation of the Pledge of Allegiance as one song and another with lyrics that include a racial and homophobic slur—in reference to the singer’s cell mate after getting busted for underage drinking (uh, yeah, right)—it’s hard not to think that this band still would manage to alienate the alienated. When they sing “all my friends are dead” (their melodic hardcore tune), I can’t help but think that it must’ve been repeated listens to this record that killed them off. Oh yeah, the longest song on the record, at 48 seconds, is the Pledge of Allegiance. I know of two sleeve variations for this record. The rarer one, which I bought some years ago from another German dealer, has no back sleeve. Rather, the band’s address and the members names are typed directly onto the dust sleeve, which is glued to the front of the picture sleeve. (This sleeve could be a fake, but, in my opinion, it’d be a very high-quality fake because it appears accurately aged. It did come from a dealer with a mild “rep,” so maybe my caveat should have emptored.) In fine noncommercial fashion, the front of the sleeve doesn’t say Chemotherapy on it. Though the comic of a character with a Hitler moustache holding a giant syringe is great—if you hate oncologists. Like I said, offensive to the core. My copy did not include an insert, but the copy on auction does. I know of two variations for the insert. The copy of the record in Maximum Rocknroll’s collection has two single-sided sheets as inserts, with lyrics for each side of the record printed on them. With this one-off type of insert and the sleeve that I have, it’s possible the band made other unique variations that have yet to be discovered by collectors. Ingo’s auction copy is presumably the regular-sleeve version, with a normal back listing the song titles and band member and the note “Rights reserved so go ahead and copy it for a friend.” Too bad there’s no photo of the back of the sleeve with the auction.

This record has always been tough to find, and its price has been increasing in recent years as it has become more well-known. I’ve heard that only 300 were pressed, which is plausible but unconfirmed. I doubt many that actually made it into stores were ever purchased. There’s little to recommend the record to the average hardcore punker by looking at it—though the skull/syringes logo is pretty cool. Tim Yohannon’s review in Maximum Rocknroll nailed it back when the record was released: “Totally crude and psychotic garage stuff here. They’ve got amazingly primitive drumming, raw guitars, and lots of super-short outbursts of madness called songs. A delight for NEOS and early HALF-JAPANESE fanatics.” Too true.

One final note, a certain notorious punk detective tracked down a band member a few years ago. The band member was getting ready to move to Uganda to work in microfinance. Because he was leaving the United States, he mailed a box of all of his records to the punk detective in question for free. Talk about a guy who was not in need of microfinance. Here are some excerpts from their conversation:Q: This may seem like a strange question, but I’m trying to locate a member of an old Indiana punk band called Chemotherapy.

A: Wow, Good detective work! Yep that was me, though we recorded the record when I was in high school in Indianapolis. I don’t know if I even have a copy anymore.

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Q: You mentioned that you hadn’t been in contact with the other members for years. All of the other names listed on the record are pseudonyms. Can you tell me the first and last names of the other 3 members?

A: To be honest, I can’t even remember those guys names right now. I’ve been racking my brain and came up empty. Its funny I can picture them, but can’t for the life of me remember their names. I’ll let you know if my memory returns.