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Today is As bad or worse than tomorrow
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Sometimes it feels like the world works at a glacial pace and I’m just this hummingbird buzzin around. I had heard of this recording and it’s astounding to finally hear it. Some of the bands earliest jams that I snuck onto the Anthem DVD appear in all their lofi splendor. Circa late 92. Oh, and a Kiss cover. Thanks to Paulie for digging it up and jason for transferring.
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Among the countless Harvey Milk recordings I’ve accumulated over the years is a spotless recording of the band performing on Atlanta radio stalwart WREK 91.1 over at Georgia Tech in 1994. By this point the band had been kicking around the club circuit for barely two years. Two freakin’ years. Harvey Milk drove into Atlanta from Athens on a weeknight to perform their mystifying Southern Gothic dirge for the weirdos that religiously tune in to hear the vanguard of Georgia music on the Tech airwaves. 
All these years later, I listen back to this recording and sit in sheer awe of what a fully formed, self-actualized, and succinct powerhouse Harvey Milk had become so quickly after their beginning not two years prior. While the band’s albums are unassailably well conceived and airtight, their live performances of the era leaned more on the material that lurked on their many seven-inch releases that sat dormant on local record shelves until the world outside of Georgia caught on, leading the locals to finally take stock of this puzzling and extremely righteous band. Taut megajams like “Probolcoc/Jim’s Polish,” “Yer Mouse Gets My Dander Up,” and “Women Dig It” were merely tucked away in singles bins while their full-length masterpieces had yet to find their fans across the globe. Nary a hair out of place. 
Sitting on my patio during an extended layover a couple of years back, Tanner said, “Anything you ever want to put out by me, Creston, and Paulie is fair game.” Enter WhaRvEy milK. Originally engineered by Joe Whitaker with his legion of assistants at WREK and perfectly sweetened by Jason NeSmith, this release shows not just a band at the height of their powers but a band on the balls of their ass. No recognition. No cult of devoted superfans. Not yet. Just three dweebs becoming the astonishment we now know them to be. 
Sleeve photography by the always amazing Hillery Terenzi. Set list drawn by Tanner. Each copy comes with one of four repro flyers from the band's shows around Athens and Atlanta during this time. All the other thankless slop done by yours truly because why the heck not. Dedicated with love to Doug Ahern.
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TWELVE YEARS pt 3/3
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