Intro to Demolisten (Written By Chris Checkman)

Well, it's Friday night. Six pm and you all seem to want to be congratulated for getting through another week. You're dog-ass tired, but now you also want to be entertained. In fact, you demand it. That's one big overblown sense of entitlement you got there, whitey. Just because you're ready to don your expensively-tailored to look like hell fake retro futuristic cubist chique whig party amish vegan magenta nehroos sunsuit and get freaky doesn't mean we're up for it. You try getting excited about anything after four C-sections. We're tired, and since it's the end of our week too, we've obviously put away all the good music and most of the crappy stuff until Monday. Which is why you're now faced with two-hours of Demolisten. Yes, welcome to Demolisten. The weekly two-hour experiment focusing on the potentially corrosive effects of self-indulgence on human tolerance. In other words, how much crappy music can you stand before someone ends up in a pool of blood? Much like what you are about to endure, every Friday from 6-8 pm, your hosts, Fred, Octavius and Devon play demo-only releases from unsigned bands from here and other sad places as well. Some of it is quite good actually. But much like most people watch autoracing in the hopes of seeing some hayseed fried alive in an accident, most weeks Demolisten is about the tragedy born by the union of adled self-grandeur and cheap home recording equipment. If you think what you hear sucks, and your pissy beaster of a girlfriend has you believing you can do better, take the gun out of your mouth for a moment, find a box big enough for all your scary talent and send it along to:

Demolisten c/o KXLU
1 LMU Drive
Los Angeles CA 90045

After that, immediately go back to what you were doing. PLEASE. For those of you who are just lonely enough to bother people on the internet, you might as well send your tortured mumblings, ramblings and the all too rare insightful comment to demolisten@yahoo.com.

Now that you've been prepared, why not close the shades, draw a warm bath, light some stinky candles and get real familiar with your favorite box-cutter. Because it's time for Demolisten. Because it's been a long week. And you deserve it.