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You can kind of get how old ginos and black dudes who hate fags are irked by those Mad magazine trannies that are just basically your dad in lipstick and a wig, but I wonder if any of them are ever (even subconsciously) like, “Look at this fucking fa-... hmmm, that’s kind of cool actually. What is that? Like an Eddie Cochran meets Edith Prickly thing? Not bad — wait, what the fuck is the matter with me?”
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Hey douchebag, England and Ireland hate each other so much millions of people have died trying to separate the two. If you really want to be an anglophile, chop your fucking head off.
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One of the reasons girls read those stupid fucking celebrity mags is they get good tips on how to pose for pictures. It’s embarrassing having them in your recycling bin but you have to admit, they kind of work.
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INTERVIEW WITH A TREE

Evergreen Can't Talk

Todd Forrest says: "This looks like a fir tree. It's fragrant with long-lasting needles and my favorite choice for a Christmas tree." Photo by Jason Nocito


How beautiful of a thing is an evergreen tree? How much of an inspiration is a tree that manages to hang on to its chlorophyll-ed goodness even in the harshest heart of winter? Am I tripping? I'm sorry, I guess I just sometimes wish I could be an evergreen. I would be so proud and I would look pretty in the snow. I would live in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey.

Until the day when I finally die and get to be recycled as a tree, I will content myself with this band called Evergreen's classic gut punch of a record. It came out in 1995 and everyone was too stupid to buy it then (just like nobody pays enough attention to the pines now). Luckily, it just got reissued.

Did you like Slint? (If you don't know what I'm talking about, go buy the album Spiderland today.) Evergreen's drummer is Slint's Britt Walford (he was also in The Breeders for a second). He is the master of that sloppy natural dance-y punk beat. In fact, Evergreen sounds just like Slint if they weren't allowed to make any songs longer than four minutes and they had to be wasted all the time. In the recent wake of garage bands popping up like zits on my face when I was 14, Evergreen is a hard blast of the real stuff. They aren't even called "The" Evergreen, you know?

When contacted via telephone at his Louisville, Kentucky home, Walford is surprisingly tree-like in his almost utter silence. And no, that isn't an insult.

VICE: Why did you guys call the band Evergreen?

Britt: Umm…I can't remember.

OK, end of interview. Perhaps this is a Zen koan answer, but I can't figure it out. More helpful is the man who produced the Evergreen album, the very non-tree-like James Murphy of the DFA. He told me: "Evergreen might still be the most for-real rock band I ever recorded. The singer, Sean, was doing bong hits between lines of songs."

This may be the best clue yet as to why the band is called Evergreen, as is the answer given by Britt when he's asked about his personal relationship to trees. "One of the coolest things," he muses, "is having the occasion to really experience a tree. That's been pretty cool."

ERIN MARTINEZ
Evergreen is available now on Temporary Residence Records.

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