The Village Greene in Smithville just had it's very first show in "The Music On The Greene" series.  It was so strikingly out of place in a town that always seems to pander to the 55 and older crowd.  It was loud.  It was energetic.  It was so undeniably refreshing that Lucy and I couldn't peel the smiles from our faces.  It was as if our musty little town took off it's granny dress and changed into jeans and Chucks.  But, if it were up to a few of our neighbors, it would have been the last show. Smithville's notorious petulant crack pots demanded that the show be stopped immediately. Simply put, some of our neighbors hate us.  They fear we will corrupt their children.  They fear we will change Smithville.  They fear we will bring an undesirable element to Smithville (that means you).  Some of our neighbors hate YOU.  They hate your music.  They hate your hair.  They hate your clothes.  These hateful, fearful, small-minded, pinch-faced,ugly,old,bitter, miserable MOTHERFUCKERS think they can impose their personal taste on the entire town with bully tactics.  They think they can force their will through intimidation.  Now for the really funny part:  Wanna know who these tough guys are?  It's a couple of  soccer moms with below average intelligence and an old man.

When you're done laughing, read on.

Yeah, we laughed too.  In fact, we're still laughing.  But seriously.  This is your town too. It doesn't just belong to the soccer moms and the zombified geriatrics.  They may out number you--but you can run faster...and you dress better .  So, come out and support Music On The Greene.  It's free...it's cool...and it will teach those fuckers not to mess with Underground!

Curious to know what shop owners are rallying against you and your favorite store?  Decorum prevents me from naming them here.  But, ask me.  I'll be happy to tell you.  Knowledge is power!

Are their ANY liquor stores/Bars in NJ that sell PBR in bottles? This elusive creature seems to exist in legend only. Much like Bigfoot, their are reports of sightings, but facts are inconclusive. Let us band together in a state wide search and put an end to the rumors and tall tales.


Please report all factual locations (actual eye witness accounts only, please) and I will share all findings with PBR boozers all over the state.


Cheers!
Mike

Happy New Year!

Lucy and I got  drunk last night.  We drank way too much champagne.  Because, after all, we had quite a bit to celebrate.

Underground made it through a year that saw so many small independent businesses close down.  Before we left the store yesterday afternoon, we tapped a couple of PBR's to a job well done and patted ourselves on the back.  The champagne...that was to celebrate all of you.  You guys are fucking amazing!  Your encouragement and support blew us away.  We always appreciate the local support, but the overwhelming support from people traveling large distances just to come visit our store, is something we never anticipated.  It needs to be said again:  You guys are fucking amazing!

Vineland, Millville, New Brunswick, Jackson, Neptune, Brick, Toms River, Point Pleasant, Bayville, etc, etc....  You guys drove an hour or more, just to visit our store. Color us fucking impressed!

With support like this Underground will be around for many many years to come.  So, when you stop by, tell us where you're from.  It makes us happy and causes us to drink waaay too much.

So again, we lift our glasses to you (but today it's just water),

Happy New Year you amazing lovable MOTHERFUCKERS!

Hugs & kisses,
Mike & Lucy

This holiday season, our motto was, "Fuck the mall--We kick malls in the balls."  We really never considered that this might offend anyone, except maybe some religious right soccer mom.  But, guess what?  We offended some of YOU!  Many thanks to the handful of corporate serving autobots who unwittingly gave me one of my favorite Xmas gifts of the season.  I swear, offending people is like shooting fish in a barrel.  There are certain "push buttons" that are fun and easy:  God. Country.  American Idol.  But, The Mall!??!!  Really?!  Who knew?

Here's one message we received this week:

"THE MALLS OPEN TILL 9 U SUCK CLOSING AT 6"

Yeah...because corporate chain stores are so much cooler than small indy stores.  
Yeah...go buy your flavor of the month shirt at Hot Topic.
Yeah...go have your dinner at T.G.I. Fridays.
Yeah...go buy a coffee at Starbucks.

Wear the uniform of The Lowest Common Denominator.
Eat the food of The Lowest Common Denominator.
Drink the Kool-Aid of The Lowest Common Denominator.

Thanks to all of you who supported us through a tough holiday season for all small indy stores.  It means more to us than you'll ever know.  Please excuse my pompous lunatic rant.  Consider it a Christmas card from a crazy uncle nobody wants to sit next to during Christmas dinner.  Have a happy and safe Holiday, you fuckers!

Cheers,
Mike & Lucy

Lucy and I would like to send our heart felt thanks to all that have supported us in the past year...pardon my sappy prose...I'm gettin all misty here.  It was one year ago today that we walked into an empty, ugly shell of a store and began an incredible exciting and successful year.  We were apprehensive...well no, actually, we were scared shitless.  Truth be told, I was wearing Depends for the first six months, because I was pissing myself on a daily basis.  Yeah, I may have been smiling, but FUCK, I was scared!

12 months later, Underground has exceeded our expectations.  We've signed an extended lease...and much to the chagrin of many of the locals:  We're here to stay, you tight-assed, pinch- faced MOTHERFUCKERS!

And to the Underground Faithful, we promise:  we're just getting started.  There's so much more in the works.  Stay tuned for some really exciting developments over the next couple of years.  We promise to continue to "kick quaint in the taint."   We think this could be the start of something legendary.

Today, Lucy and I toast the Underground Faithful.  Thanks guys...really.

About 20 minutes west of Smithville on Route 30, amid the abandoned decrepit buildings and unkempt empty lots, sits...or rather festers...a third rate antique shop.  An oasis of shit in a desert of South Jersey decay.  Kind of an ironic spot for elitist attitude and venomous barbs directed at your friend and humble narrator.

Just inside the entrance, for all to see, is a clipping of the article about us that ran in "The Current" back in November.  Stuck to the wall above the article is an angrily scrawled note.  It reads:

"Smithville  No longer the antique corner in South Jersey?  Youth is pushing for new!  And out with Old!"

So Underground is the cause of the decline of what his perception of Smithville should be.  Underground will be the ruination of Smithville.   We are the enemy of "quaint!"  Well, who made you the most exalted potentate of Atlantic County you self important douche bag?  What about the rest of us who are not "zombified geriatrics" or Oprah sedated soccer moms?  What about the rest of us who think "quaint" is a synonym for "fuckin’ retarded?"

This is war!  The Evil Forces Of Quaint MUST NOT WIN!  This is our fucking town too.  If these Quaint-Nazis are given free reign, you too will have badly painted wood ornaments staked in front of your house!  You too will choke on the cloying stench of lavender potpourri.

Our new slogan:  Underground....We kick quaint in the taint!

 

Meghan dropped by our store a couple of weeks ago and picked up a vintage John Lennon T shirt (circa late 70's-early 80's).  Here's the message she sent us:

 

Hey, so I live up in Clifton (I was down visiting my Mom in LBI). I had my new old T on when I came back home on Mon and decided to go to the Tick-Tock diner around the corner from my house with my sister for lunch. We pull up and there are news vans and cameras everywhere and we hear that Chelsea Clinton is on her way there to campaign for her Mom the day before the primaries. Anyway, we decide to stay since we're already there and hungry (not to mention the fact that we refuse to be driven away from our favorite local spot :) So in the middle of our meal, she finally walks in. She headed right for our booth, introduced herself, asked us if we would be voting for her Mom today, then proceeds to go on about how much she loved my shirt. So I told her about your store and we end up in this conversation about music and politics (while surrounded by a million of her cronies). So now Chelsea Clinton's my new BFF and she just may wander over to Smithville! (J/K) I was pretty amused by the whole thing and therefore felt the compulsion to pass it on to the source. Thanks for being one of the few stores left to sell some sweet vintage AND to actually carry records. I'll be back next time I'm down and wish you guys luck on your new start.
Peace, Meghan

The moral of this story:  Shop Underground--stand out in a crowd!

 By the way, where does Chelsea get off interupting a delicious meal at the Tick-Tock.  Not only are our customers well dressed--they're gracious.  If Chelsea had interrupted my fries-with-cheese-and-gravy, I would have told her to "Piss off!"

Who woulda thunk it?  Me: a crusty middle aged, gray haired, over weight, creaky sack o' homely...a T shirt model! 

Many thanks to The Hollywood Blondes for fullfilling my life-long dream of becoming a punk rock poster boy.  Yours truly is their current default photo, donning their new hot pink T shirt.  I would also like to thank them for inching me one step closer to being the biggest Myspace whore on the planet.  Watch out Tila Tequila, I'm right behind you, you scrawny little twat!  Your ass looks like two raw chicken cutlets caught in a breeze!

Bitch fight aside...check out The Hollywood Blondes.  The wife and I can't get enough of 'em.

Mike

Phone rings.  Caller ID says, "private caller."  Caller's voice is older--perhaps 50ish.

Me:  "Hello, Underground"

Caller (angrily):  "Do you sell punk rock clothing?"

Me (laughing):  "Of course we do."

Caller: (shouting):  YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!  YA CAN'T BUY PUNK ROCK IN A STORE, CHIEF!

I laughed heartily throughout this short tirade--perhaps that's why the caller hung up immediately.  I guess it wasn't the reaction he hoped to illicit.  Allow me to school you, caller.  I've been a punk since the late 70's ( yeah, I'm old and my birthday is next week, so I'm extra cranky).  Sure, we bought a lot of stuff directly from the bands--either in person or through the mail.  But I have a question for you--you punker than thou--Four Seasons dwelling motherfucker.  Where did you buy your first Sex Pistols or Dead Boys record?  Where did you buy your Dead Kennedys T shirts.  Ya bought 'em in a cool little punk rock shop.  Hopefully, kinda like the one we have.  Back then, we bought our stuff in amazingly cool shops, like Two Tone (Passaic and Bloomfield), Rebel Rouser (Irvington), Vintage Vinyl (Irvington), Bleeker Bob's (NYC) etc..    Although, my guess is that the caller never was a punk at all.  Like most, he speaks loudly about things he knows nothing about.  Allowing stupidity to eat at him like cancer.  Well, bon apetit.  ...and thanks for the chuckle.  You made an old punk's day.

Love & kisses...Mike

 

 

We signed the lease and our souls are sold!  Our store opens at The Village Greene in Historic Smithville on September 15th.

It'll kinda be like our booth in Cape May--only 5 times the size...and of course, this is our store, so we'll be there every day.  We'll have punk rock and classic rock T shirts, fashion accessories, records and a ton of vintage clothing.  We're trying to bring South Street or The Village (that's Greenwich) to sleepy little Smithville.

Hey local bands!  Sell your Cd's and T shirts or whatever merch ya got in our store.  Message me for details.

Local show promoters...we can help you promote.  Message me for details.

Counting the days until September 15th,

Mike & Lucy

Underground