Guest Book/Guest Rant
Feel free to leave sacred or profane (metaphorically speaking) commentary, spontaneous sermons, confessions, jeremiads, prophecies, affirmations, denunciations or any other such ramblage. As always, keep it focused on the rock.
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De-Con For Dubya
(Our Readers Look for a Way Out)
Manthon
ya know...as i see it, 'pubs are good for the rawk. must be something to the stench of grimy old money hungry "hate all that's not my kind" fuckers. let's take a look.
eisenhower...good gawd! presley, berry, lewis, richard, diddley, burnette, adkins, feathers, holly, etc. the world was scared to death of the russians...and rock n' roll!
kennedy...rawk died. pat boone? elvis goes to germany...dylan still thinks he's guthrie. the great bands of the next few years are still clubbing, PLAYING the stuff from the last prez's reign.
johnson...well, he WAS from texas and he tried to yank out his dog's ears so he SMELLED 'pub! there's no denying that the ground work that would inspire what we love was laid here...do i need to list? ok...stones, beatles, kinks, who, sonics, yardbirds, pretty things, them, stax/volt, motown, Nuggets, velvets, hendrix, stooges, mc5, dylan's cream...must i go on?
nixon...here we go! many of the above artists spat out their definitive works during
tricky dick's time in the house. we also got our first earful of...dolls, coop, boc, thin lizzy, ac/dc, t.rex, big star, badfinger, the band, and think of who was getting their shit together...ramones, dicatators, pere ubu, television, patti. they were all getting ready for ol' stumble bum...
ford...the shot heard round the globe...PUNK RAWK! what can you say? clash, pistols, x-ray specs, wire, buzzcocks, saints, dead boys, heartbreakers, dmz, modern lovers, cheap trick, and the previously mentioned bands who's shit was now together, big time!
carter...hmmm...punk goes new wave and the birth of hair metal. the folks get happy and giddy...fun fun fun cuz the 'pubs have all left for the day!!! so did a lot of the balls. there was some great carry over from the ford years...clash, patti, wire and some great debuts...stiff little fingers, b-52's, pretenders, devo (yes, devo), X, and...the birth of the genre that wouldn't die...hardcore. early hardcore heros...bad brains, black flag, germs (we're they hardcore? in attitude, i guess). the best was still to come.
the reagan years...tomorrow's sound today---this is when i "grew up" musically. bands that will always rule my world shot their wad all over the old bastard. replacements, husker du, minutemen, flipper, nomads, lyres, rem, minor threat, red(d) k(c)ross, blasters, marshall crenshaw, dwight yoakam, steve earle, leaving trains, i could go on and on (see the millennium list on the rawk for more examples form all these eras). the times sucked but the tunes were most righteous!
bush...things slowed a bit but there was no shortage. things got a little diiferent though. lazy cowgirls, monomen, grifters, pavement, archers of loaf, guided by voices, supersuckers, geez...i'm getting tired. and most importantly, nirvana and the death of hair metal!
clinton...sure, there has been some great shit in the last eight years but the most important thing is the death of creativity in mainstream music. the whole limp biskit/rage against the machine/blink 182 axis has ruined an already shaky "alt-radio" world and the "new" hard rawk is a sham of a travesty of a sham. for every hellacopters there's a bloodhound gang...for every candy snatchers there's an eminem. there still tons of killer tunage out there but way more crap than ever to wade through to get to it. look to the bellrays, white stripes, immortal lee county killers, fu manchu, speedealer, and oldsters who still make a difference...dictators, tav falco, cramps, johnny and merle and willie, to keep the shit warm as we move into the...
dubyah....i can only hope that the past repeats itself. history looks good even though we are rifling into a strange tech-y kinda world what with all this computer magic. just keep my record stores more than "virtual" and i'll be just fine!
r.t.r.
Ken Shimamoto
The Rev has asked a tough question, and I dunno if I got the goods to answer it, but here goes...
Recent events (the new prez's "Fuck you" to the state of California, talk of tapping into the Alaskan oil reserves, the newest attack on Iraq -- one imagines Dubya pacing the halls of the White House, muttering, "I wanna be just like Dad," and with the same lineup as last time, too, Cheney, Powell, etc.) have me sincerely wishing that I hadn't voted for Nader. As David Thomas from Future Now Films (whose documentary "MC5: A True Testimonial" should be hitting theaters this year -- really!) remarked in a recent conversation, "This definitely wasn't the year to make a statement."
That said, if there IS a positive from the Y2K election follies, it's that more people than at any time in recent memory are aware of the political process. And the exit polls (usually bullshit, granted) indicate that more of 'em who voted based their choice on issues rather than "leadership" (read: personality). Whether or not they're inclined to PARTICIPATE in said process is something else, but you gotta be an optimist on some level. More participation = more representative government; you have a choice in more than just the entertainment you choose to consume, folks.
People in this country tend to be complacent as long as the economy staysrelatively healthy. Far be it from me to wish doom and gloom on these UnitedStates, but this one's overdue for a downturn (the Asian and Australian economies having taken a dump in the last coupla years, can ours be far behind)? Indicators here in North Central Texas ain't good...a coupla big employers cutting back, leaving a coupla thousand folks out of work. When times get tough, the entertainment industry thrives (cf. Hollywood in the Great Depression), and in times of social ferment, music seems to be an outlet for people's hopes/fears/frustrations (cf. the sixties in general). How that will play out in the next coupla years, again, remains to be seen.
The problem with any kinda analysis like this one is that it presumes there's a big overarching "We" out there. I dunno if that's true anymore (or has been since, say, 1966 or so). While "We" might have all agreed about the Beatles (or Motown, or Elvis), today, the music audience in this country is about as segmented as the population in general. There's a radio format and set of lifestyle appurtenances (mags, TV shows, clothes, etc.) for ALMOST every demographic there is (and no, the Ken Burn's Jazz series doesn't count). I've felt for the last few years that this country isn't capable of being led anymore; we're not a "people" anymore -- we're a collection of interest groups. And you can blame the marketeers for SOME of that, at least. (What's a consensus?)
I recently had a brief e-mail exchange with Bomp! mastermind Greg Shaw, a guy whose opinions I mostly trust. I'd just finished reading a stack of his old mags from '76-'79 -- the halcyon daze of punk, uh, New Wave, and his pet obsession, Power Pop. In one of his editorials, Greg posited that there are certain primary archetypes (maybe "templates" is a better word, he now sez) whose influence creates whole styles and genres of music: Elvis, the Beatles, the Byrds, the Who, the Stooges, etc. My question to him: where are the archetypes of the last 20 years? We've had 'em, he responded; f'rinstance, Madonna (first person to make a career by dancing in a video) led to Britny, Christina, etc. There's undoubtedly a gangsta rap archetype (but who is it -- Tupac? Ice-T? Dunno -- haven't been that hip on the hip-hop tip since I was stationed in Korea and "The Message" was the national anthem, along with "Atomic Dog"). Is Eminem an archetype? YOU decide!!! (Whaddaya say, Rev?) And if so, what does that say about Us and Pop-ism in general? For the boy bands, it'd have to be New Edition (or maybe Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers).
But where does that leave those of us who teethed on loud electric gtrs (or squalling saxophones)? Pop in itself is not EVIL, but it's sure a hell of a lot less resonant for many of us than more "authentic" sounds. The short answer is, "Marginalized as fuck." (Same as it's been for the past 20 years or so, but more and more.) That said, though, there's an awful lot of great music coming out these days; you just have to work harder at finding it. Radio's no help, and TV even less so, but there's a profusion of intelligent writing about "good" toonage in 'zines both print and electronic. This, I think, is a good thing. All you have to do is find a reviewer who digs the same signifiers as you, and get out your checkbook. And by the way, get out of the house sometime and support some cool bands when they come to the local dump where you live. Live music IS the best candy bar your money can buy, when you can actually see the musos sweat without looking at a Jumbotron.
But all along, I've been skirting the question the Rev posed: how WILL rock'n'roll help us keep our heads above the water in the Dubya years? As a private obsession, mostly. Hardly a satisfactory answer, but the only honest one I can think of right now. I'd be delighted to say I see hope of it becoming the great social signifier was back in the sixties (a little nostalgia for all the old folks), but I can't see a way for that to happen, given the way the marketing of music kinda dictates its content. (Uh, but the way, all the Wayne Kramer Epitaph sides are now cut-out, so start searching the bins for 'em and grab 'em if you can before they're gone -- uh, Bomp's got 'em all on offer now.) I DO hold out some hope for the sub-generation that'll be coming of age in a coupla years, if my middle daughter's cohort is any indication...they seem a little more concerned, aware, and compassionate than the last couple I remember, but maybe that's just a local fluke. Like Mickey Rourke said in "Diner," "If you don't have good dreams, you have nightmares."
The bottom line: be kind to each other, folks. It looks like, uh, WE'RE gonna need it. and remember: music is medicine. Sho 'nuff.
Josh Parshall
Here's what I have to say:
So I was sitting in a wonderful restaurant the other day, and I saw everything I hate at once. The Happy Meal toy sucked, the food sucked, the NASCAR crap that adorned the stupid display case sucked, and the music oozing out of the God-forsaken corporate-controlled speakers really sucked.
I felt trapped in a personal hell. I desired nothing more than to hollow out the building and fill it with amps, a dance floor and a perpetual din of rock rants and musings. I would have jumped onto a table and led the masses to freedom, but I knew three things:
a) I don't have all the words or tact or voice I'd need to pull it off. (Rev's note: Since when are any of those things necessary, particularly the second one?)
b) To a certain extent, people don't want to hear my petty whining. (Rev's note: People don't wanna hear you talking about yourself. People need to hear you raging against the dying of the light. If that makes their corporate death-burgers hard to swallow, SO BE IT!!!!)
c) Sam (my dining partner) woulda slapped the hell outta me. (Rev's note: But which of you woulda had the most fun?)
So I finished my burger and left, but one day we'll show those people that the challenge of good music is worth it, because it isn't always easy to listen to true, hard and loud music...but hey, there are SOULS on the line.
A View from the Pews....
Yeah I killed a leopard...what of it?
Dimitri Monroe recommends...Kevin K. Band's Oriental Nights
Road Vulture guitar-killer,Kevin K.,is backed-up live in Japan by members of "Detroit's Bubble-Glunk Heart-throbs",the Trash Brats.Very few can still pull this style of mid-70's N.Y.C. sleaze-punk off as expertly as this bunch,and I can assure you these veteran true-believers will still be floggin' this same ol' dead rockin' horse long after the new school of pretenders-to-the-throne are havin' laser-surgery to remove their trendy black cat tattoos.Their earnest cover of Johnny Thunder's "Disappointed In You" is touching,("But who beats the odds..?") but still seems a little redundant,maybe,in light of Michael Monroe's already authoritative version on the American Thunders Tribute,"I Only Wrote This Song For You",but then again,maybe that just means it's becoming another standard.I'm just bored to tears with everybody playing covers,and trading on the previous generation's ideas and material.I mean,for this kindof badass unerground rocknroll music to stay alive,or even remotely relevant,we're eventually,all supposed to get around to saying our OWN thing,aren't we? I wanna hear YOUR story,YOUR truth.I already got all of Iggy's records,know what I'm sayin'? A coupla Trash Brats "hits","Time Don't Wanna Tell" and "Teen Suicide Story";and a C.C.R. song are thrown in for good measure,alongside some Kevin K. classics,like "Livin' La Vida Loca" (awesome chorus!) and "Just Like That" (really good lyrics).My favorite track here,however,is Kevin's "O.K. Tonight",which showcases his emotive,soulful rocknroll voice.The bottom-line is,this is a buncha reverently-played Johnny Thunders covers and originals that sound like Johnny Thunders covers.Apparently,they even nicknamed the drummer "Jerry".I just don't see the point in the so-called glam-trash-punk underground so relentlessly covering Johnny,Stiv,and Iggy's tunes...I mean,Doncha got anything you need to get off your own chest? But that's just one American's opinion.I,personally,would rather hear new Jeff Dahl,Mike Monroe,Trash Brats,or Kevin K. originals than any of those guys covering anymore Dolls or Deadboys songs.I'm not sayin' you guys don't do 'em justice,but what's the point? Mercer Street Kareoke for dedicated glam-junkies...(Kevin K./PMB #108/9061 U.S.19 North/Pinellas Park,Florida/33782 U.S.A.)
Brother Dimitri Monroe on B-Movie Rats' "Bad For You"
In the past eleven minutes, it seems like every straight-edge emo-sissy and preppie-punk/suburbanite-lame in the world's allegedly discovered the joys of getting bad tattoos, wretching up cheap bourbon, and the Smell of Female--resulting in this horrific glut of dime-a-dozen "punknroll" groups, desperately growing their hair out, who've suddenly decided Motorhead, AC/DC, and Guns N Roses are THE SHIT! Merging all the worst aspects of "punk" (little storebought identikit costumes, third-rate Jones/Ramones riff-rock rehash, the Rulebook) with the worst aspects of "metal" (glorified/fantasized chemical abuse, lyrics about fictionalized sexual exploits and "the devil", brainless cockrock machismo), this new Imitation Generation, to paraphrase thee Trash Brats, is making it harder and harder for those of us on a budget to weed out the real rocknroll badasses/lifers from the wet behind the ears cultural-tourists,just visiting rocknroll on their way to class-climbing, capitalist-oppurtunism, but, fortunately, it always comes out in THE WORK. B-Movie Rats are the sort of gutsy, real thing, punch-drunk raw rock I respond to most immediately under the influence of brown liquor, and pose a serious potential threat to my recovery! Get this! (JUNK RECORDS--like you don't know the address by heart!)
Dimitri on Ig's new 'un... "AVE. B" (...Or,"Jesus Hates My Mid-Life Crisis")
A painfully unlistenable examination of the Futility of, even, folk heroism. One minute, Ig feels obliged to assume some role as a jazzbo survivor/elder statesfigure dispelling wisdom, the next, he still wants to fuck his nazi girlfriend on the hardwood floor. When he tries to give the purists what he thinks they want--adolescent Riff-Rock and lyrics about Detroit--we end up with comic book-punk albums like Instinct or Naughty Little Doggie, which is ok by me. Crack open a Schlitz and crank up either record, they rock. And I'm usually the one defending Ig's right to boss around retarded hairmetal goons and hire-in horribly commercial producers and studio hacks in order to have Radio Hits and enjoy the economic security he's certainly entitled to at his age; I mean, I've rubbed shoulders with that fat, yuppie, cokehead, hasbeen, baseball-capped crowd of bearded 50-Something Mama's Boys half you guys expect him to crawl home to, and I don't think a reunion would work. Those guys take orders from some fat manager with a cigar who actually calls himself "the Colonol" fer crissakes, but Ig probably oughta consider collaborating with creative equals who can still rock, like maybe Brother Wayne Kramer or Brian James or Cheetah Chrome, or even Ratboy, cuz this shit is just makin' me nostalgic for Zombie Birdhouse or even Blah Blah Blah. This is embarrassing--c'mon Iggy, you're still breathin', you take home a different, full-breasted little ingenue nightly, you get to travel, your kid still talks to ya, you've got money, power & freedom...lighten up, brotherman, you've climbed outta deeper holes than this one. So you were still too horny and unstable to maintain a monogamous long-term relationship--like nobody saw that one comin.' Gimme a call, we'll go fuck-up together somewheres...your album sucks, so what?
Admiringly,
J.D.Monroe
Brother Killin' Spree on the 30th Anniversary Release of Gimme Shelter:
The Rolling Stones: Self-parody in their old age?
Gimme Shelter is being given a national re-release on the occasion of its 30th anniversary. This classic documentary's subject, Altamont, is regularly mentioned as "The End of the Revolution" or "The Death of the Dream" or some other cheesy moniker to symbolize the massive joykill it was to all the drug-addled burnouts that thought the party would never end.
"BILLY JACK'S FULL OF SHIT, MAN!"
Damn right that's what I woulda been saying. I would happily have done my fair share of hard drugs, free love and underachieving, and been the first to jump off the bandwagon when it was obvious the fun was over. Good Hell, you had the Manson murders and a variety of violent subcultures that had been spawned by all this shit (Black Panthers or SLA, anyone?). In fact, one of the most infamous of all--The Hell's Angels--got themselves squarely in the national spotlight in a, uh, not so pleasant way as a result of Altamont.
Bandwagon jumper, that's me. I'm from St Louis and was full throttle behind my Rams all the way to the Super Bowl this past January. Thing is, exactly one year earlier, I'd had it with the lowly Lambs and would have been just as happy to ship their overpaid, whiney asses right back to shitty ol' fucked-up L.A.
Who do I point to as my influence for being such a mercenary? Why, The Rolling Stones, by golly--my damn favorite band of all-time! The Stones were massive bandwagon jumpers long before anyone else; they knew what the hell they were doin'. I mean, wasn't Altamont the biggest rip off of Woodstock you ever saw? Hell, just a couple of years earlier they jumped on the Sgt. Pepper's bandwagon and got their asses knocked right back off. Can you possibly look at the cover of Their Majesties Satanic Request and not laugh your ass at the stupidity? (Editor's Note: Unless you consider it was a parody of that stupidity.)
Didn't their big comeback album of the '70's, Some Girls, get the ball rollin' with a few disco beats driving the single, "Miss You". C'mon, these guys know how to play the market. The other album cover I laugh my ass off is the ridiculous Miami Vice color schemes of Dirty Work. And that album came after Undercover, where they embraced the power of MTV to sell records. They never did quit using the music video angle; they even had boy genius David Fincher direct that excellent "Love is Strong" video that launched (yet another) huge comeback for them in '94, with the release of Voodoo Lounge.
I have to admit, though, I had my fill of them after shelling out $65 to see the St. Louis leg of the Bridges to Babylon tour. Geez, that was as much crass commercialism as I could stand, with "guest bandmates" on every song ("Ladies and Gentleman, Taj Mahal!"), and the wildly ridiculous climax where a stupid bridge extends to a stage in the middle of the arena for them to go ham it up on some more crowd favorites (I about puked when the turd behind me yelled "Play 'Start Me Up!'"). Big shock to discover this spectacle was being taped for pay-per-view (what was that about the bandwagon?).
Oh well, I can always listen to their old stuff…
Avowed Heathen Bent Kent (see his guest book entry) Gets Swayed by the Ever-Popular Cover Version Strategy
"City Slang"--the Hellacopters
This rawk-to-the-bone cover of Brother Wayne Kramer is almost identical to the original. The Hellacopters pay homage to their king idol of Rawk here by cranking the volume and solos to 11. Manthon (founder of the Rawk site) is popping the top of an Old Milwaukee just thinking about this band. I have to give this cover song an enthusiastic kick in the ass for me.
"Nashville Cats"--The McCoury Band
Never much cared for The Lovin' Spoonful or that awful tribute to Mr Kotter. It's painful as hell to watch a stoned-ass John Sebastian talk to a Woodstock audience about how great his acid is (well, at least that's my take). Anyway, he did write a great song with "Nashville Cats". What the original lacked, though, was flavor (to quote Min on King of the Hill) and the McCourys added the right spice to give it that downhome Mayberry USA feel. Hell, I bet the Darlin' Boys are rolling over in their graves (are they dead???) with hard-ons for this cover. The McCoury Band are to bluegrass what cheap vodka is to alcoholics -- a much needed fix!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Strutter"--The Donnas
Yep, I bet Gene Simmons bought this single from the teeny boppers and brags to his bandmates that he's screwed their moms(with Polaroids to prove it, dammit). The Donnas are tuff-as-nails teenage rockers that love the Ramones and play like Kiss, so its only fitting that they cover Ace Frehley. Maybe Ace needed these girls for inspiration back when he was thinking to himself that more than family members were buying his solo albums. The Donnas graduate with high marks on this fine cover.
"She Talks to Rainbows" and "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory"--Donnas
The former wife of psycho" Wall of Sound "genius Phil Spector comes out of retirement (looking over her shoulder) to pair with Joey Ramone on these cover songs of The Ramones and Johnny Thunders, respectively. First, let me give her my extended thumbs for her rendition of "She Talks To Rainbows". Ronnie gives Joey a present by covering one of his last songs as a Ramone. Ronnie adds the perfect accent to this well-written song that could easily pass for a Spector original. The Thunders song, unfortunately, left me a little dry. While I was listening to this cover, I couldn't help but imagine Johnny's mum singing this version to him at his funeral. The original has that rawness and trademark snarl of Thunders' guitar and vocals that I missed here. Don't get me wrong: I think Ronnie does a valiant effort here, but I feel it falls flat when compared to the original. A slight limp finger from me on this one.
