Something is to be said about holding every tangible audio piece from your favorite band. In the 90s, you physically had that record, 7″, or compilation; if it wasn’t neatly stacked on your shelf — in autobiographical filing, of course — your collection was lacking. Our digital decade takes away the hunt. Most b-sides, demoes, lost tracks, etc. are a search and click away.
Every so often, a slew, or in this case, one track is pulled from the dusty vault. The catch is you never knew this vault existed. That artist put all their songs to record, you gobbled up any major release, and you scoured all sources to obtain any b-sides or demoes. Then, a song, an old one to a select few, but a brand-new aural experience to you, surfaces. 15 years ago, my Triple Fast Action collection was comprehensive. Until 2013.
At the young age of 15, you want something to hang onto; a sound, an act, anything, that you can call your own. My something was a band. I knew they were better than everything else the others were rotting their ears with. Triple Fast Action (T3FA) was the epitome of undiscovered cool. A Chicago act fronted by Wes Kidd. 90s rock. James Van Osdol and Q101 approved. Crunchy, riff filled tunes raging with emotive lyrics. T3FA also possessed the know-how to execute precision-like songs that begin with a hush crawl, then evolve into an explosive wall of sound. Always with Wes’ distinctive vocals driving the track.
A demo hidden for 19 years emerges. “Small Amount of Nothing” isn’t what you’d expect. You spin this, take it in more than once; then ask yourself, Why was this band MiS’ undiscovered cool and not everyone’s?