Oh man, I was so ready to conduct the BrokeNCYDE interview to end all BrokeNCYDE interviews. Aside from the obvious lulziness of it all, the Albuquerque crunkcore collective known as BrokeNCYDE were a bonafide cultural phenomenon (at least on teh intarwebz) for a couple years there. And about that couple years: according to lead vocalist Mikl, the group started in 2005. Yeah, that's going on seven years. That's a longer career than N.W.A. That's a longer career than Hot Snakes. That's a longer career than Big Black. That's a career almost twice as long as Minor Threat's, even if you count the 1982 hiatus.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Regardless of what I think about their music, that kind of longevity is pretty impressive. So fuck it: these guys deserve to be taken at least somewhat seriously, I thought. If not for their music, at least for their business sense and tenacity. I was going to conduct the fucking Hell's Angels-meets-fucking-Deep-Throat of fucking BrokeNCYDE interviews. Fuck yeah crunk kids, let's fucking do this shit.

(More bullshit after the jump)

Cue a short series of unfortunate events: when our interview was originally scheduled, I had all my questions neatly laid out in the notes app of my iPad. I had my Sidekick set to speakerphone and already tested out the levels on the digital recorder I use to record my stupid band's stupid practice demos. I was fucking ready. I was ready to go where no BrokeNCYDE interviewer had gone before.

And then nothing happened. After waiting 45 minutes to get a phone call from BrokeNCYDE's camp, I called and left a polite message for their manager, and sent an email to their publicist asking if we could reschedule. I would be out all next week on stupid tour with my stupid band, but I'll be back on Monday. Monday? Monday it is. Cool. Okay fuck all this shit, I'm going to order a pizza and watch Sleepaway Camp. (Spoiler alert! Angela gots a dick!)

Halfway through that tour I was on, I broke my iPad by placing it under the passenger seat of our rental car while we stopped to buy bass strings or something. When I pulled the iPad out from under the seat, the screen was completely destroyed, and so were my questions for BrokeNCYDE. I mention all of this not to plug my band, or even because I think it's interesting, but rather as a weak excuse for conducting a lame-ass, dead-end interview with the musical group that was responsible for some of the biggest headscratchers of the last decade. Fuck. Sorry guys.

So in the interest of brevity, here's a short list of things I learned:

The group started out more hip-hop and R&B based; (I asked Mikl and Phat J if that's where their roots lied more so than the punk and metal scenes, to which they both passively confirmed) the idea to add screaming was inspired partly by Hawthorne Heights, but mostly just for the hell of it.

Phat J has two sons aged 1 and 3. Phat J also assures me that his kids have not heard one note of BrokeNCYDE's music.

While the band has a penchant for lyrics about 40 oz. bottles of malt liquor, and enjoys posing with same, they assure me that they are "not alcoholics" and prefer "the devil's lettuce."

BrokeNCYDE fans are hard to please: "If we give them nothing but screaming, our fans say 'we want rapping and singing!' If we give them rapping and singing, our fans say 'we want more screaming," Mikl says, although he is quick to say that BrokeNCYDE's fans are "amazing."

Their collaboration with Paul Wall for the song "Phenomenon" was initially hashed out over Twitter.

I also learned that I kinda suck at conducting interviews.

BrokeNCYDE are co-headlining a tour with Blood On The Dancefloor and like, six thousand other bands at Studio Seven on Wednesday April 11th. I'm going to attend with a couple of my bros. We will probably be the only people over 30 there, unless you count venue staff.