While I like new Descendents, their older stuff always had an intangible bite to it. The new stuff feels more sarcastic while their earlier material was pissed off underneath that playful disposition. And that’s what you get on 9th & Walnut which is billed as the band’s eighth studio album, though the timeline is more complicated than that.
All 18 songs on 9th & Walnut were written between 1977-1980 by the original lineup. (Okay, 17 -- another is a Dave Clark Five cover.) Then, in 2002, Descendents drummer/producer Bill Stevenson teamed up with former members Frank Navetta and Tony Lombardo to record the old songs, which ended up sitting on a reel somewhere until, during COVID times, vocalist Milo Aukerman recorded the vocals. Current members Stephen Egerton and Karl Alvarez do not appear on the record.
So these are songs written by the adolescent Descendents in the ‘70s, recorded in the ‘00s and touched up in the present. Of the 18 songs, 15 have never been released in any format, while a few predate Aukerman joining the group and mark his first time on recorded vocals. And what you get is modern production with angry, early punk movement sounds and subject matter. The songs range from mohawks to girls to fitting in. You know: stuff that defined early California punk but is pretty much just as relevant today. And because so much attention nowadays is given to Aukerman’s career as a scientist, it’s fun to travel back in time to see the angry, frustrated teenager trying to figure out his place in the nascent punk scene so many people deemed as dangerous.
Even with nearly 20 songs, this record blows past quickly. The rhythm section plays a big role, as pummeling bass and angry drums set a tone that Aukerman meets with a little extra snarl when compared to modern day Descendents. There’s also an extra bounce in the step: youthful vigor, teen angst, more caffeine.
The songs also fit their era. The songs about punk fashion are amusing but somehow still relevant, and while these songs are far from the worst offenders of that era songwriting, they aren’t exactly favorable toward women when observed from a 21st century lens (more on that in a minute). Basically, this is juvenile punk. It’s opinionated, energetic, and angry and sometimes a little off the mark. The double entendres of “I’m Shaky” are funny the first time but get old on repeat. And as I just mentioned, there are a few songs with an immature point-of-view concerning relationships. The band was young, and it shows in the perspective.
Some personal favorites are “Nightage,” “Tired of Being Tired,” and “Mohicans” each for different reasons, mostly balancing urgency with melody.
Overall, this doesn’t feel like a compilation, a rarities collection or a timestamp. A lot of the credit undoubtedly goes to Stevenson for piecing together three eras (spanning six decades!) into a comprehensive album. It’s more than a snapshot. For the most part these are good songs that rip, rage and roar next to the classics of the era. Without the lengthy intro to describe how it was made, it would fit neatly into the band’s catalog 20, even 30, years ago. Even my complaints about the record (misguided anger/lyricism and a little too much filler) were staples of the era.
