46 Short punk rock 2k
By Ryan Ritchie

PHOTO by RUSS ROCA

I first heard 46 Short when reviewing CDs for the old 562 magazine. Everything was absolute garbage, so I wasn’t expecting much when I got a copy of their second full-length, Just a Liability, in the mail from Go-Kart Records. I’d seen 46 Short stickers on stop signs in my neighborhood, but I assumed they were a tweeker band with shitty amps who’d play your backyard for a case of beer, then steal your records when you weren’t looking.

“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” lead singer Jeremy Jones says. “Long Beach is full of ten-speed tweeker crews. But I bet they pawned their instruments long ago. We still have ours—and our teeth.”

And Liability was pretty fucking good. Fourteen tracks of punk like Poison Idea, the Circle Jerks, and the Germs; it would have been labeled hardcore before buff dudes in Strife T-shirts took over the genre. Punk bands are supposed to get worse with each release, but somehow follow-up Truth Denied even trumped Liability. The 13 songs picked up where previous efforts left off—without sounding stale and repetitive—while the production accomplished the unimaginable by blending the rawness of punk’s earliest recordings with the modern era’s hi-fi standards. The album should have catapulted 46 Short into the upper echelon of Punk Rock 2K, but Jones says his band’s lack of style keeps Mohawk Town crowds away.

“46 Short is a social experiment,” Jones says. “I’m really curious to see if anyone cares about an honest band with honest lyrics based on personal experiences and social critique. We don’t have mohawks and we don’t dress up for shows. I know if we did those things, we would probably sell more records.”

46 Short has been plugging away for nearly a decade with to-the-point tunes that lack filler and unnecessary noodling. Punk critics love them and the few kids willing to take a chance on a relatively unknown group eat them up, but good press and a handful of misfit teen fans might be the only things the members of 46 Short have in common with the modern batch of punk.

Like key figures in the genre’s first wave, the band takes the DIY approach and applies it to all aspects of life. Jones, bassist Ron Martinez, and guitarist Andy Greene all are self-employed (graphic designer, booking agent, and record-store owner, respectively), while drummer Nick Savin does what any self-respecting San Pedran does: he’s a longshoreman. It’s an attitude like that of classic SST groups such as Black Flag and the Minutemen and Dischord acts such as Minor Threat and Fugazi—bands who looked like (somewhat) regular people and played boundary-pushing music with art superseding profit.

“Self-reliance is the most valuable thing we’ve learned from the punk ethic,” says Martinez. “We’re not looking for someone else to give us a handout or opportunity; we created our own. The early punks were constantly creating something new and evolving. Nowadays you see more people treating it as an excuse to be an uninspired, lazy misanthrope who chugs beer and talks about ‘the old days.’ They behave more like that old man at the bar and less like a punk-rocker.”

Last summer the band went on tour to promote Truth. Since returning, 46 Short have kept a low profile. Saturday’s show at the Vault will be their first in town since they played the Prospector in March 2004—and it’s shaping up to be more than just another gig for the hometown boys.

“I’m trying to drag my mom out to this one,” Jones says. “She hasn’t seen me play since we started 10 years ago.”

46 SHORT WITH LOWER CLASS BRATS, SMUT PEDDLERS, POISON IDEA, THE STITCHES, KRUM BUMS, AND BROKEN BOTTLES AS PART OF THE TKO RECORDS 10TH ANNIVERSARY PARTY | THE VAULT 350 | 350 PINE AVE | LONG BEACH 90802 | VAULT350.COM | SAT 6PM | $16.50 | ALL AGES