The Awesome Hall of Fame & The Hall of Total Bullshit

"Don't need no pretty face. Don't need no human race."

Hall of Total Bullshit: Reflective Douche-wear

Dude. Are you seriously fucking retarded? What the hell are you wearing? Do you have a pair of shiny pants to go with that? I hope so. To think that your parents missed out on the chance to abort you. What a horrible mistake that was.

Awesome Hall of Fame: Lemmy's Moles

Or whatever they are. Lemmy had these weird bumps on his face for his entire life.

Are they getting bigger? I'm not sure. 

Are they disgusting? Probably.

Why has he not removed them? Why should he?

Perhaps he realizes that, removing the bumps from his face could rob him of his power, like Samson, cutting his hair.

Or perhaps he just doesn't care. Lemmy has earned a rep as a ladies man, with the confidence to snog with Wendy O, Corey Parks and various skanky rock chicks, completely unhindered by these enormous disgusting protuberances. Confidence is sexy, don't you agree?

Hall of Total Bullshit: UFC

I don't want to harsh on anybody's buzz here. If you want to put on a Speedo and roll around on the ground, dry humping your buddy, more power to ya. But what's with the attitude? Remember when martial artists were honorable and disciplined, not roided-out dicks with Road Warrior haircuts. How about an "Ultimate Getting-Along Championship"?

Awesome Hall of Fame: Kangaroo Attack!

We've established that human vs. human doesn't really hold my interest, but replace one of those humans with a Kangaroo? Now you've got something.

Now, I'm sure that some assholes have captured a Kangaroo and kept it it caged up only to have it spar with drunken bar patrons. Not cool. To see a captive Kangaroo beat the living piss out of it's trainer, on the other hand - awesome. To see some jerk off, with a camera perhaps ,(see above) get too close to a wild kangaroo and get whomped - same deal. Love it. But the great thing about kangaroos is the way they fight. The punch you right in the fucking face. Straight jabs like a boxer. Then there's the grab the back of the neck with both hands, double groin kick move. Amazing. Youtube it.  Don't mess with a Kangaroo.

Hall of Total Bullshit: Guitar Hero

This is not a guitar. This is not anything like a guitar. This is basically whack-a-mole. Red! Blue! Yellow! It's like the Nintendo power pad but stupider.

Not only can most real guitar players not play this game, I believe it actually makes you worse at guitar. Hours after the the first - and only time - I tried to play this game, I couldn't listen to music without thinking Green! Blue! Yellow!

Awesome Hall of Fame: Crazy Old Bastards

Old. It's the new young. The kids? Fuck 'em. Today bands are getting better as they get cagier.

When I saw the Jesus Lizard reunion a few months ago, David Yow (pictured above) was visibly sucking wind early in the show and looking somewhat afraid of the looming pit of outstretched arms ready to yank him into their midst. He guy did, however, hurl his body repeatedly into the crowd, until he was a sweaty bedraggled mess, never letting go of the microphone, no matter which part of who's anatomy the cord was wrapped around and never missing a garbled syllable (I think). The amazing part was that, even though I'm at least a decade younger, I was hobbled the next day with bruised ribs that took for-ever to heal after spending the entire show in the pit.
This motherfucker got up, (I assume), drank away his hangover and did it all again the next night in some other unforgiving town, then another, then another. My hat is off to you, sir.

Hall of Total Bullshit: Yam Fries

Fuck off. Seriously.

Awesome Hall of Fame - Brotherhood

Help out your bro (or your chick-bro) when they are in need. Buy them a beer when they are broke. If they fall down in the pit, help them back up. Amen.

Hall of Total Bullshit: Dog Shit

Your dog takes a dump somewhere ... you clean it up. Simple equation. Then why is the entire perimeter of my block covered with steaming landmines? Shame on you, you ignorant motherfuckers. I believe in dog shit karma. Every turd you don't pick up is one you should step in.

Awesome Hall of Fame: This Dude

Before you ask yourself "why would anyone do this to themself," ask "why wouldn't they?" Does it matter that you  spelled Randy Rhoads wrong? You may actually be the only human with a Tesla, Tora Tora, Quiet Riot or Dangerous Toys tattoo. Tuff? I don't even know who the fuck they are. Aside from a few obvious omissions, ("No Sleez Beez? Come on!) meet your God!

The Earth's Greatest Album Covers. Ever!!!!!! - Toe Fat

"Maggie, Maggie you cunt."

Take a minute and really drink this one in. This masterpiece is the work of British design team "Hipgnosis". If you aren't familiar with their name, you've no doubt, seen their work for Pink Floyd "Dark Side of the Moon", Zeppelin ("Houses of the Holy") AC/DC ("Dirty Deeds") and T.Rex ("Electric Warrior".

This cover, from the debut album by the British blues rock band that decided to call themselves "Toe Fat," just makes all of those look like a pile of shit by comparison.

What strange  combination of chemicals was ingested to cause this?

To this day the only image that springs to mind when I think of the name Toe Fat (and believe me, I think of it often) is this disturbing image of nude people with big-toe heads chillin' by the shore. It has forever burned itself into my subconscious. Thank you, Hipgnosis, for ruining my life.

Hunt & Gather: NWOBHM Rarities Profile: Budgie

"I'm friends with the President, I'm friends with the Pope. We're all making fortunes selling Daddy's dope."

H&G will be a regular feature, starting this month. It will consist of obscure albums or artists in the genres Garage/Psychedelia, 70's Rock, New Wave Of British Heavy Metal, Sludge/ Doom, Punk/Hardcore or any other genre I deem worthwhile. I've picked these, first because I like them, but also because there is so much material to be found; good, bad and just plain weird. Along the way are some genuine forgotten gems make it worth all the crap I had to sift through to find them.

    Also; as part of each month's H&G feature, I'll include a profile of an artist important or prolific enough to warrant such extra attention but generally not one that has not been discussed at length elsewhere.

Cheers!

Ethel The Frog - Ethel The Frog (1980)

I’m going to call these guys out as being not actually a metal band at all. The first hint is the utterly retarded choice to cover Elenor Rigby as the first track on the album. It’s beside the point that they pull it off pretty well. These guys are good musicians but their slick harmonies and honky-tonk piano remind me of Brownsville Station or some soul-less Californian easy listening bullshit like the Eagles.  The song “Don’t Do It” sounds like an actual “new wave" song. A bit like the Buzzcocks, actually.
The odd good riff takes a back seat to material that reminds me “Your Mama Don’t Dance and Your Daddy Don’t Rock ‘n’ Roll". This isn’t necessarily what I'd call a bad album but detours into the realm of “dorky white guy  music” are much too frequent.

Holocaust - The Nightcomers (1981)

Here's one of those forgotten gems I was speaking of. The very raw, demo-ish quality of this first offering from a relatively unknown band from Edinburgh does nothing to obscure that this record is so fucking heavy, so skull crushing, so good.
This album is chock full of nasty, crunchy, razor sharp riffs and anthemic tunes that,show an innate understanding of what inspires spontaneous headbanging and fist shaking. Metallica once again prove they are the smartest band on earth for ripping these guys off.
"Death or Glory" is simply one of the most bad-ass tunes I've heard in my life, both lyrically and musically.
You will never hear a metal anthem better than "Heavy Metal Mania"; period. They do eerie and moody wonderfully on the title track and "Mavrock".
Singer Gary Lettice's rough vocal style reminds me of a pubescent James Hetfield (circa Kill 'Em All) and his somewhat amateurish delivery of occasionally cliched lyrics may turn some off. There may even be a throwaway tune lurking here or there. Those willing to look past these minor quibbles and continue listening with an open mind will get to experience a seminal recording by a groundbreaking, yet vastly under-appreciated band.

Split Beaver - When Hell Won't Have You (1982)

Wow. What can I say about the cover of this album? What type of music could this sleeve possibly contain? Not since "Smell The Glove" has any record, real or imaginary approached this level of glorious awfulness. Yet I cannot turn away.
The album title and general vibe of the artwork conjure up something heavy and demonic. Unfortunately, much of it sounds more like mediocre party rock.
A band so blunt in it's stupidity that they actually named a song "Gimme Head" owes it's listeners some sort of irony, surprise, hidden meaning or other redeeming quality instead of just, I guess, a tune about wanting someone to put your penis in their mouth. It would help if the chorus wasn't virtually identical"Shake A Leg" by AC/DC.
 From there, there's the Motorhead rip-off, a few recycled Chuck Berry riffs,
"Cruisin" Is just  a boring blues riff that sounds like "The Jack" (AC/DC again). "I'm cruising down the highway got my baby beside me and ... I stopped listening". Let me say this again. Your band is called Split Beaver. Your album features a dead-eyed, bare-assed, devil bat/rat/woman hybrid in stilettos squatting under a spotlight with a guitar  that's made of ... skin or bacon or something ... (maybe I need glasses) and you're recycling shuffle blues patterns Chuck Berry has milked for all their worth on everything from "Roll Over Beethoven" back to "Run Run Rudolph"? Your fans deserve more!
Goddamn! I think the biggest disappointment of all is that I expeced to have strong feelings about this record, either positive or negative. If you don't know you're listening to "Gimme Head" by Split Beaver there's nothing especially insidious in the difficult to understand lyrics or the bland but inoffensive music.
At times the singer reminds me of a poor man's Stiv Bators and the band as a whole reminds me a bit of Tankhog, which may not mean anything to you unless you're from Vancouver. At it's worst boring and unoriginal, at it's best it's unremarkable. It makes a decent, yet non-essential addition to any collection of NWOBHM oddities (for the non-musical reasons again) and if a few of the better tunes come up on shuffle, you'll be able to tolerate, if not enjoy them. Meh.

Jaguar - Power Games (1983)

The music sounds strikingly similar to Split Beaver, only after a few lines of speed. The riffs aren't necessarily more memorable but the supercharged tempo and tight drumming make all the difference.
That's a good lesson to the kids. If you can't do it better, do it faster. So the singing goes back and forth from a pretty good Lee Ving style rumble to a more overwrought 80's power ballad style of singing. The guys has chops, that's for sure, but at times I have to ignore the vocals (and cliched lyrics) to appreciate the riffs. * Hmmm what can I rhyme with "dirty tricks?" how about "get my kicks!"*
I feel this way about alot of NWOBHM bands and bands of other genres I'll list in Hunt & Gather in the future. Cool, riffs and good musicianship (which these guys have) gets wrecked by really dated sounding vocals. I also find that, while this album is decent in small doses, a lot of the songs sound similar and it gets a bit tedious at 13 tracks at a total of 51 minutes long. There's very few things that I want to be doing for 51 minutes and listening to Jaguar is not one them.
Having said that,  I want to make a point about marketing and presentation. We've established that these guys can play circles around our old buddies in Split Beaver. Imagine, if you will, it's 1983 and you're a 13 year old boy, with a bad mullet and worse teeth, in some dreadful part of England (Slough, for example) and you're in the record shop with a few pents left over from your pint of lager and eel pie or whatever. You have a choice between two new albums, based on the name of the band, the title of the record and the album cover alone.
Do you purchase "Power Games" by Jaguar with it's shitty, homemade checkers-on-a-chess-board photo or "When Hell Won't Have You," featuring a nude, writhing, demon bat woman dry humping her Flying V by the band "Split Beaver"?

Blitzkrieg - A Time of Changes (1985)

This is a bit of a weird record, in the sense that it's an album of songs that was supposed to be recorded in 1981 by the band, after their debut single Buried Alive b/w Blitzkreig. That single is great, definitely one of the top singles to come from an otherwise unheralded band from this time period. 
So, anyway they broke up later the same year, singer Brian Ross played in a few other bands, then decided to reform Blitzkreig in 1985 with all new members and record all the songs they would have recorded - in 1981 - with the song "Pull the Trigger" as a bonus as it was written by his subsequent band, "Satan,"but not recorded. In contrast with the grubby, sparse sound of the single, this album includes all the traits of the day in both production and musicianship. Sweep picking, pinch harmonics and whammy bar dive-bombs ala KK Downing, double kick drum, lots of snare reverb and overdubs. Ross' Rob-Halford-like shriek, which, much like Tom Araya, he would pull out every so often for the hell of it, is more and more present. 
The lone new tune, "Pull The Trigger" is clearly a later 80's composition. Musically it's a bit of a somber rock power ballad, lyrically it's a song about wanting to kill yourself with a gun, playing Russian roulette, death the only solution etc. It harkens back to the Priest/Ozzy trials and even contains dubbed in voices whispering "shoot, shoot," as the PMRC and their ilk had (falsely) accused Ozzy of doing in the song "Suicide Solution." (Which was not about shooting yourself in the head at all). Edgy, I'll give them that.
One the best things about the new bands coming out of England in the early 80's was that they couldn't afford expensive studios and lots of overdubs, so their albums sounded fuckin' raw. This "bad" production inspired a whole new era of musicians who liked the raw, heavy sound, voila thrash, speed metal etc.,etc. It was ironic that after these bands had the opportunity to record under better conditions, they re-recorded their classic songs over again with all bells and whistles to make them sound more like major rock acts of day (Diamond Head I'm looking at you). Metallica based their sound around Brian Tatler's abrasive guitar tone on the first Diamond Head record. It's ironic that when Tatler and co. went back into the studio they were seemingly trying to emulate the more polished arena-rock sounds of Bon Jovi or whoever were the popular acts of the time. Now, in retrospect, the more "modern" sounding tunes have not aged as well as the original stripped down versions, which have become timeless classics.

I would much prefer the original version of the this album from 1981 if it sounded like the Buried Alive single. Since that record was never made, I'm glad to have been able to hear these songs and glad that Blitzkreig was able to continue in some form. Unfortunately while the playing and production are technically "better" than the bands first recordings, it sounds to my ears like trying to fix something that wasn't broken.

(l to r)    Phillips, Shelly, Bourge

Budgie are a rock band from Cardiff Wales, whose history dates back as far as 1967. Their classic line-up is; Burke Shelley - Bass and Vocals, Tony Bourge - Guitar and Ray Phillips on Drums.
Budgie are usually cited as an influence or precursor to the NWOBHM. It's true they started before most of the bands, even preceding Judas Priest by about 2 years.
Their heavy brand of blues-rock was not unlike their contemporaries in Black Sabbath.
Burke Shelley reminds me of Geddy Lee for some reason. Perhaps because both are singing bass players of 3-piece heavy progressive British bands who have long wavy brown hair, an impossibly high vocal range and a large schnoz. ,Unlike Geddy, I don't find Burke's vocals grating or un-listenable. He has one of the finest siren wails in rock to be exact.

Tony Bourge? Comparisions can't be avoided with that "other" Tony. Master of riffs, lead wizard. Tony is one of those players that piss me off sometimes. I think I'm getting pretty decent at guitar, then I listen to Tony absolutely slay on live Budgie album and I start to get depressed because there is no way I will ever be that good.
While cited as a major influence by many huge bands, Budgie remain comparatively unknown. The reason for this relative obscurity? No idea.
They were talented and versatile musicians, their songwriting was innovative, their records sounded great and featured cool artwork. They didn't peak too soon were prolific and consistent, had a solid line-up for their first 3 records and didn't burn out due to internal strife or drugs.
Ray Phillips left in 1974 and was replaced by Pete Boot for one album before Steve Williams took over on drums also in 1974 and played on every subsequent album. Tony Bourge stayed with the band until 1980 when he was replaced by John Thomas who served until their last album in 1982.
Budgie went on to headline the Reading Festival in 1982, support Ozzy on the "Blizzard of Oz," tour and be the first heavy band to play behind the iron curtain (Poland, also in '82) before calling it quits in '83. They've since reunited and put out a new record in 2006.

Burke Shelley

Tony Bourge

Ray Phillips

                                                                                                                         

                                                                                                                           

Budgie (1971)

Budgie's debut is a bluesy, bludgeoningly heavy masterpiece.  Producer Rodger Bain's resume also includes Priest's "Rocka Rolla" and Black Sabbath's self titled debut, and also "Paranoid" and "Master of Reality," thank you very much.
As on parts of the 1st Sabbath record I can picture him saying, "just jam it out boys and we'll roll tape". Like Sabbath, sometimes the improvised feel works and sometimes it doesn't.
Highlights include "Homicidal Suicidal," "Guts," and "Rape of The Locks"
Patterns were established for all future albums, including odd song titles "Nude Disintegrating Parachutist Woman," and decidedly un-heavy acoustic love songs which break up the album. Here they are "Everything In My Heart" and "You and I".

Squawk (1972)
Squawk features less bassy, crisper and more polished production. The songwriting is more focused and concise with less jamming and over-all there's more of a boogie/blues rock feel. While it stands alongside the rest of the first four albums, there not as many standout tracks for me. My favorite is "Hot As A Docker's Armpit" which is absolutely killer and belongs right at the top of any list of their best. It's also one of the most creative and baffling ways to compliment someone I can imagine("She's as hot as a docker's armpit"). Nice!
The mellow tunes "Rolling Home" and "Make Me Happy" sound more like the Beatles on this album and, as before are well done but re generally skip-able.

Never Turn Your Back On a Friend (1973)

)

This album kicks off with the classic "Breadfan," which was covered by ... lets see if you can guess by now ... Metallica! When I was a kid I never understood what "Breadfan" was supposed to mean. I pictured someone throwing a loaf of bread at a fan. Turns out it's "bread" as in the hippie term for money," so ... money enthusiast. Killer tune.
A good cover of the blues standard "Baby Please Don't Go," follows.
Despite the 2 minute drum intro (remember kids, drum solos suck) "You're The Best Thing Since Powdered Milk," is prog rock at it's best and "In The Grip Of The Tyrefitters Hand," journeys into into funk territory.
"Parents" is the album closing epic featuring Tony's guitar stylings venturing into the realm of jazz . Over all this record showcases the band's increased songwriting prowess, with more complex arrangements and longer songs without sacrificing tight playing and their heavy blues rock style.
Another stellar record.

In For The Kill (1974) 
 Ray Phillips departed before this album, making it the lone record to feature Pete Boot on drums. The band were on such a roll at this point, it didn't make much of a difference. This is, in my opinion, the best record Budgie ever put out in my opinion. The one-two punch of "In For The Kill," and "Crash Course In Brain Surgery," is the heaviest and best in rock. period. You ain't heard shit 'til you've heard this. "Wondering What Everyone Knows" is one of their best quiet numbers and adds an eerie quality to the atmosphere of the album, rather than just changing the tempo. The single, "Zoom Club," absolutely rips it up with a cool galloping riff and more built up, cathy chorus. "Hammer and Tongs" has Shelley bitch-slapping the blouse off of Robert Plant and makes "Whole Lotta Love" sound like a whole lotta nothin' before a few classical flourishes and slowing down into a traditional blues number for the last few bars
Running From My Soul is more of a trad blues jam.  sprawling instrumental passages of "Living On Your Own" recalls Maiden and highlights what separates them from the crowd.
You need all of this.

Bandolier (1975)
Unfortunately the band hit their high water mark with their previous record and "Bandolier" marks the beginning of what would be a very sharp decline.
"Breaking All the House Rules" is a cool straight-forward rock tune. The band sounds noticeably slicker and there's a more of a jazz funk influence that starts to creep in. If you listen to the more built up chorus and slightly poppier hooks of "Zoom Club" and then just suck out the energy and replace it with a boring tune. This album has the fewest tracks (6). "I Can't See My Feelings," is another highlight. There's a sort of sleazy loungey vibe sneaking in "Who Do You Want For Your Lover,"and some of the tunes and at times I can dig it, but it starts moving in a direction that I don't dig so much.
If you can get past the title, "Napolean Bona - Parts 1 & 2" is one of their true, true masterpieces. Recommended.

If I Were Britannia I'd Waive The Rules (1976)

The first track, "Anne Neggen," (think for a minute) shows that even their puns have declined. The unspectacular opener turns out to be one of the better tracks on the album. Not a good sign. "Sky High Percentage" shows some signs of life but all in all it's an uninspired "Budgie-light," that predominates. Mellow jazz noodling and lounge funk influences take over completely and marks the first Budgie album that could be avoided entirely without any qualms.

Impeckable (1978)

Where they sounded dull and uninspired on the previous album, they sound positively comatose here - or worse, like they've been listening to the Eagles. Their funk obsession continues and at times it sounds like they're aspiring to soundtrack porn.Tony Bourge's farewell starts with a whimper ends with a whimper and with a whimper in between.


I encourage everyone to listen to every album up to "Bandolier". The braver may wish to check out "Britannia". If you are determined to soldier forth to the end of the Bourge area and hear "Impeckable," and I recommend against it, I encourage you to stop listening before reaching their 80's albums. They are painful not, because of how how bad the band was at this point but because of how great they used to be. They released 3 albums in the 80's with John Thomas on guitar before making the wise decision to call it a day in 1983.

Power Supply (1980)

You've been warned. This is a decidedly heavier record than the last one .... NWOBHM was in full swing with it's release and it sounds like their trying to give themselves a more .... modern sound as the artwork with the cyborg budgie creature seems to convey.
The CD includes the EP "If Swallowed Do Not Induced Vomiting," which featured a song called "Highschool Girls," about ... uh ... girls in highschool. The best tune "Panzer Division Destroyed" is unfortunately almost identical  to Led Zeps "Immigrant Song". The worst insult I can pay to the band at this point is that they now sound like an average rock band.

Night Flight (1981)

At the risk of taking a pot shot at a band I have enormous respect and admiration for, I find it difficult not to refer to this album as
NightShite. Our heroes plunge headlong into the world of brainless rock with songs like "She Used Me Up," and "Superstar," Slick, poppy boring and cliched.  Sad.

Deliver Us From Evil (1982)
The only thing left at this point was for Burke Shelly to find religion. It's just as well. Budgie's last album was a godawful, synth heavy mess. Good night.

Open Up and Bleed: The Top Self-Mutilators In Rock

"This fucking city is run by pigs. They take the rights away from all the kids."

AIDS, schmaids. Sometimes you just want to tap a vein and shed a few pints in the name of rock 'n' roll. Here's a few who've carved themselves up in the name of our entertainment.

* Note. Some of these pictures are absolutely not yucky in any way. If your boss or any small kids or anyone with a queasy stomach happens to be around, you should immediately grab them and tell them to come take a look at this. Thanks.*

The Candy Snatchers

I'm really bummed out that this is the best Candy Snatchers blood picture I could find. Somewhere I have an old back issue of MRR from, like, 1996 with a picture of Matt Odietus, their guitar player covered in so much blood it's just nauseating. Excessive alcohol consumption played a large part in many of their onstage stunts (the blade-job that sent Matt to the hospital after one show but resulted in a good photo). They would spice up their live act by dousing their instruments in lighter fluid and attempting to play them while they were on fire, breaking bottles and slicing up themselves and each other and catching gobs of another band member's spit in their mouth. Reportedly banned from CBGBs for being too "messy".

Jeff Clayton (Antiseen)

I'm going to damage my hardcore rep by saying I don't really care about these guys and have never bothered to sit down and listen to an entire one of their albums. The whole redneck thing just doesn't register with me. Eat More Possum? Okay ... sure.

These guys have been around for-ever and are fans of old school wrestlers like Abdullah the Butcher, Terry Funk & Cactus Jack and do the blood thing as a sort of homage, with barbed wire and other wrestling weapons (see fork above) making appearances at their shows. I'm guessing they're a lot more fun to watch than listen to.

Jerry A (Poison Idea)

You can't really mention nihilism without mentioning Poison Idea. They put a picture of Fat Elvis on their first 7", then did everything possible to surpass him in excess and in girth. Drugs, booze, Jerry's frequently bloody forehead and Pig Champion's mammoth obesity arguably surpassed even their idol, Darby Crash.

Per Yngve Ohlin AKA "Dead" (Mayhem)

There's a common thread of drunkenness and drug abuse that most of the subjects here have in common. I don't know anything about the habits of Ohlin, who took the very appropriate name of Dead, but he stands out for me as a prime example of someone who was just mentally ill and depressed. He would cut himself onstage with knives and broken glass and popularized corpse paint and use of animal heads impaled on stakes in his band's performances.

His final act of self abuse is what he, and ultimately the band, would be most famous for. At the age of 22, blew his head off with a shotgun, after the knife he chose to slash his wrists was too dull. His suicide note read"sorry about all the blood". The act of suicide itself doesn't get one on this list but after band members decided to photograph Dead with his grey matter blown out, photos surfaced on the bootleg album above and rumors that ranged from saving pieces of his skull, to making a stew with his brains, as well as accusations of satanism and the eventual murder of their guitarist made the band legendary, rather than their genuinely awful music.

Kembra Pfahler

You may notice there is a definite shortage of women on this list. This could possibly prove, once and for all, the theory that women are smarter than men. Kembra is no angry nihilist or drunken masochist (near as I can tell) but more of a weirdo performance artist. Live performances with her band "The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black" would regularly feature her - SEWING HER VAGINA SHUT! - The defense rests, your honor.

Sid Vicious

Even those who disagree with my opinion that The Sex Pistols were one of the most overrated bands of all time would have to admit that Sid's legacy has more to with perfecting the image of punks as brain-dead junkies (and dying young after allegedly murdering his girlfriend) than anything he ever attempted to play on his bass. Still the image of Sid, face smeared in blood, with "I Need A Fix" carved into his chest remains one of the most enduring in rock.

Darby Crash

Germs front man took nihilism and intoxication to another level. Darby seemed like a shy, nervous, confused kid who ingested anything he could get his hands on to combat his stage fright and unleash his demons on unsuspecting audiences.
Darby often couldn't manage to sing into the mike and his performances included breaking bottles on himself and diving in broken glass as well as various other accidental injuries due to extreme drunkenness and drug taking. After earning a reputation as one of the most explosive and unpredictable performers in punk rock, he committed suicide by heroin overdose at the age of 22.

Iggy Pop

According to the man himself (and VH1 Behind the music thank you very much) Iggy's first experience with public bloodletting came as an accident. Drunk, drugged out and shirtless at a bar show, Ig accidentally cut himself on a broken cocktail glass and didn't notice he was gushing pints of blood in front of a horrified audience. Much like Pete Townshend who, after breaking his headstock on a low ceiling and saving face by smashing his guitar to pieces was constantly asked "let's see you smash your guitar up again!" Iggy faced constant requests of "let's see you slice yourself up". He was happy to oblige, making diving into broken glass a part of his stage repertoire.

The photo above is from one of the most famous Iggy stunts, slicing himself up with a knife during a performance art piece at Bingenheimer's English disco, after which he was placed into a gunny sack and dragged out into the alley. Par for the course for someone who would seemingly drink, shoot, snort, smash or fuck anything put in front of him. He is, of course still alive, in the best shape of his life, older than my dad and still diving head first into the pit. Huzzah!

GG Allin

GG Allin didn't invent audience baiting, violence as showmanship and shedding of bodily fluids as performance, he merely honed it to perfection.

GG's music was always overshadowed by his legend, his inflammatory rhetoric and his geek show live act. GG not only cut himself with broken glass, pissed, shat and bled but beat up the audience and members of his own band and ended every tour with either jail or hospitalization for blood poisoning.
Other career highlights include; wrecking venues, inciting riots, 

promising to commit suicide on stage each Halloween (but ending up back in jail before he could do so) sticking objects (bananas, bottles, microphones) in his ass, letting women piss in his mouth, pronouncing himself to be god and/or jesus, and genuinely living to be hated.

He not only entertained, but genuinely frightened people and made rock 'n' roll dangerous in a way that will never be socially acceptable.

"My mind is a machine gun, my body's the bullets and the audience is the target." Amen.

East Van

Maybe I'm getting my period, but when I drove past the East Van sign on Clark Dr. today I nearly wept. In the ten + years I've lived in Vancouver, I've rarely left the Eastside by choice, except to leave the city completely. I never felt the need to scribble the East Van cross on things. I think it's obvious to anyone with any common sense what's good about our city and what isn't. Anybody that needs to be told doesn't get it in the first place. But ... on the eve of the Olympics, with Olym-Pigs swarming to give me traffic tickets every fucking day and with the world about to descend on us and celebrate "what makes us great" by basically ruining it, this symbol gives me hope. Whoever Ken Lum is and whatever his motives, this is a middle finger in the face of the VANOC Gestapo and should give hope to anyone who wants to stop these invaders from trying to squish us. Makes me want to climb up onto my roof and erect my own.

Rock 'n' Roll Damnation: Lou Pearlman

"I Live On Peanut Butter Sandwiches I Don't Care."

Once in awhile a musical genius or visionary comes around and leaves a mark on the entire music world. On the flip side of that coin, for everyone who made music better over the past 20 years is someone who fucked it up way worse than it was before. These aren't simply bad artists, producers, business people, impresarios, etc., those come and go. These are people who have started the trends, changed the styles and ultimately the way we listen to (and in some cases watch) music.

Without further adieu; Louis Jay Pearlman, this is your life.

This fat fuck saw the success of New Kids On The Block and decided to recreate it with a boy band of his own, first as the musical Svengali of The Backstreet Boys and then NSYNC. Two heinously awful, plastic pop bands to be sure but, honestly, if you hadn't clicked off MTV before the boy band resurgence, then shame on you. These bands just made the decision to tune out a bit easier.

 Lou building himself a band, in itself is not especially noteworthy; musical acts have been cobbled together this way before, most notably the Monkees and the Sex Pistols. Lou just turned this process into an art.

He proved once again that nobody knows what makes pre-pubescent girls swoon and faint like creepy middle-aged men. Screwy Louie coached (and some have charged, molested young twinks (I read Dan Savage) in a sort of boy band bootcamp.

They were shown how to walk, talk, pout, dress and finally, to cut out the pesky creative process altogether, given pre-written songs and slick production. Voila!

They even made a reality show ("Making The Band") about this process where entrants into the molestation sweepstakes were whittled away each week, until "winners" were chosen. This show gave us "O-Town.(Yes, the correct answer is "who?" For this, I hold him directly responsible for the American-Idolization of music.

         Annoying but who cares?

  

Who ... are you people?                                         The "O" stands for "oh, please stop touching my junk, Mr. Pearlman

 

Lou's formula has become the norm in the entertainment industry.  I therefore hold him personally responsible for Kelly Clarkson, Clay Aiken, Rockstar INXS, Gene Simmons' Rock School, My mom's admiration for Adam Lambert, Bo Bice, Brooke Hogan and more. Any of those single offences could be forgivable but this man has turned music in the 21st century into one retarded talent show.

Congratulations on your award, dickhead, you've earned it.

Only In Oakland!

Found on the bar at The Stork Club.

See how many of you have the balls to slap this baby on your bumper.