We live in a world where a wonderful, kind Hawaiian man who had an encyclopedic knowledge of the 80s UK anarcho-punk and who wrote some of the finest, most literate punk rock songs of all time has been dead for 16 years, Yet Donald Trump still darkens the planet. It hardly seems fair.
Lance Hahn was always a dude I deeply admired. He made great music, released some great art from his friends, shared his knowledge freely. J Church remains incredibly underrated. Cringer is barely a blip on the modern radars of music listeners. But his successors are legion, filling up Gainesville's venues every Halloween, treading the boards in punk house basements and on stages in tiny clubs from San Pedro to the Lehigh Valley to Manchester to Sendai.
A bunch of labels put together this record to aid Lance's healing back in '07. It's a suitable monument to his songcraft, as well as those he inspired. It has some pretty great bands turning in pretty great versions of the man's cuts. It's a great sing-along record. The organizers got Ben Snakepit to do the illustrations. If you see this one on a rack for $5, I say, grab it quick.
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