Summer Toonage

Shits real complicated lately. Here's some summer toonage to brighten your days:

I Was A Teenage Guinea Pig

Way back in Nazz's young teen years, he was a poor white boy looking for some money. My mom heard about a facility in the area that would pay $20 a week to kids who would allow various substances to be applied to their backs and checked a day letter for "reactions". Yeah, cosmetic clinical testing. SO, I became a Teenage Guinea Pig!

Now... before you look away and say "what the Fuck is wrong with Nazz's mommy for letting her son do this"?; remember, this was the innocent days of the 80's and out there in  the hinterlands, people weren't quite so suspicious of big business (or, for that matter, men in white coats and facemasks in labs).  Yeah- I know. Not too smart.

So, every week, I would go in, and the nice attendants would apply a pad the size of an open palm to my back. This pad would have whatever lotion or concoction that they needed to make sure wasn't too lethal to humans. One would assume this was after the bunny rabbits and chimps had survived; but, really, who knows? After all, teenage boys were made of far sturdier stuff. The next day, the pad would be taken off and my skin (funny, they never worried about anything but the skin- so if I had any toxic poisoning or nerve damage... too freakin' bad...) would be checked for outbreaks.

I did this for about three months.

Every week, when I got my crisp $20 (always in cash) - I would take it to the local record shop. They had a tremendous used vinyl area (this WAS the 80's) and for anywhere from one to three bucks, I could buy "rescued" albums from the 60's and 70's and further my musical education.

Ya see... you young whippersnappers, what we had to do back in the day for our rock n roll? Now it's all easy peasy to download anything you like in 5 seconds.

Weird, I had completely forgotten about this until last nite, when the head that grew out of my back reminded me.

One day, I'll tell you the story of when we got the bright idea to sell our blood in college for booze money.

Keef Richards - "Life"

Here's my review of the Keith Richards auto-bio "Life". It's taken awhile to bother reading it since I wasn't going to fucking pay for it, and I had to wait until all of the Rolling Stones' fans who were too cheap to spend the cay-ish were done and I could get it from my library.

The following is the short review:

Fuck you Keith Richards and stick the 550 pages of this up your ass; where I hope it backs up your bowels and causes your entire body to explode like Mr. Creosote in "The Meaning Of Life".

BECAUSE- You're the coolest multi-billionaire muthafucka out there and I... Am... Very... Jealous.

I wanna hang out with Keef. Of course, trying to impress him, I'd end up acting like an asshole and being a douchebag. 

On the other hand, I'm a nice guy... aren't I? WHY WOULDN'T Keefy wanna hang with me? 

Hey Keef- call me... I'm listed.

Oh yeah, can I call you "Keef"?

Keef at the Beggars Banquet

The longer synopsis:
In which a hatchet faced, former pop icon, who has been trading on past glories since 1973 ( don't confuse this with Patti Smith's new book as I didn't say 1978), writes of his addictions and foibles. He rips on "Sir Mick" (newsflash- Keefy is not exactly a fan of "Sir Mick" - but when yer married for the money, you gotta put up with it), and tells stories of fun times with Gram and Brian and Bobby Keyes, etc. There's some references to drug problems too. Keef was into drugs???? Who knew? Next thing yer gonna tell me is that Glenn Danzig used ta be in da Misfits!

The auto-bio for those with short attention spans: 
I was legit, I worshiped Chuck Berry and Jimmy Reed. I put in my time. I hated wealthy people, I was from the wrong side of the tracks. I was cooler than shit. Ya know, back in 1965, I wrote really good stuff. Than a few more cool songs, until I was led by the vein for the past 40 years by my banker. I'm taken out every few years for a billion dollar tour, where I play several chords and mug for the camera. I've fucked alot of hot chicks, taken alot of drugs and gotten into all sorts of hijinks. And I still hate rich people! And, open G tuning is the answer to everything. And... "Jumping Jack Flash" is the same riff as "Satisfaction"... backwards! Oh yeah... I owe everything to Chuck Berry... and Chuck Berry's a dick!

Mr. Butinski responds:  

All with-out doing a single thing of musical interest since "Some Girls"... and you can probably back that up to "Exile" anway, since Keefy was probably too wasted to even remember his very first disco sell out elpee.That's what I wanted more of... some apologies for squandering what was one of the world's greatest r n r band's legacy.

On the other hand:
Muthafucker is rock n roll incarnate (for good or bad- I never saw the rulebook that sez r n r has to be altruistic). He can sit on his pile of money, shooting up and pissing down on everything single one of us if he wants... ps- Jerry Fucking Garcia never gave away his $$$$ either... and wasn't even a good enough junkie to survive. Although, I think the chocolate donuts killed him, not the China White.

Keef did it "his way" (as long as Sir Mick and the moneychangers said it was O-Tay).  And the book is pretty savage and open and (I assume) honest.

Who ever transcribed Keef's 'umblings into this lively and highly entertaining book should be knighted. Or something. At least given access to Keefy's private stash.

The dude gets major props for killing Brian Jones and screwing Anita Pallenberg and Patti Hansen. I used to have a Patti Hansen poster. Eventually, it was able to stay to the wall without the benefit of tacks or any other "unnatural" substance. Just a little epoxy from the young Nazz's gonads. Get it- another pun!!!!!!!
Remember having posters on yer walls? I had the Farrah one too.

I spent alot of time in my bedroom. Than, I put up a fucking Jethro Tull poster. Ian Anderson, in some sort of "Men Without Dicks" Safety Dance jester's outfit. Or something. Playing a flute. I HAD A POSTER OF A GROWN MAN PLAYING A FLUTE ON MY WALL! Why my dad didn't come in and beat the shit out of me on a nightly basis until I removed that poster is something I will never understand. Let me tell you, if MY KID puts up a fucking Thom Yorke poster, I'll knock his fucking teeth out. I don't care if it's a Thom Yorke poster showing him drinking the blood out of George Bush's skull with a straw made from Nancy Reagan's windpipe... I'll still beat the crap outta him.

Keef got to bang these chicks when they were hot. 
Keef wins.

Summation: Great book.  Could have done with more drug and sex tales. Maybe a mud shark or two. Hope the sequal is a 500 page transciption of Cocksucker Blues. Though Keef doesn't really remember any of that era. Perhaps a diagram on how to main-line. Only other book that comes to mind that was more drug oriented was "Please Kill Me". And that book doesn't make the life of excess sound as much fun as Keef does.

Like I said, Keef- call me! 

Bands That Suck

The following bands can blow me. Short of that, and having them show up at my doorstep on their knees with mouths agape ready to swallow the issue of my fetid seed down their mouths, they can simply eat the rotted remains of Jim Morrison's esophagus.

Radiohead- Mopey asshole whiny-fuck-pop-star wannabees from the land that saw fit to perform a country wide circle jerk for the union of two horse faced douchebags who would just as soon have the entire nation die of starvation if it meant that they could garner one more crown jewel. Thom Yorke should have crushed up poodles shoved down his gullet. I would wish harm on the rest of the band, but I don't know who the fuck they are. At least Pearl Jam are American and probably get to fuck alot of real hot mid-western chicks who dream about sopping up Eddie Vedder's ejaculate with their flannel shirts. I mean, do they even sell flannel shirts in the UK? Real flannel... not that bullshitty new wave plaid stuff.
Notable exception- Paranoid Android... only because it's a Pink Floyd song. 

Genesis - Anyone who debates the "era's" of Genital-cyst (that's pretty farking clever) for relevance and quality (ie Hackett vs Gabriel vs Collins vs who gives a fuck) should stop wasting their time and start instead pondering the stages of anal cancer and how one stage is better than another.
Notable Exception - The future death of Phil Collins

Bon Jovi- As an American I fully support the rights of money hungry cock suckers from New Jersey to make a buck off of the teeming masses whenever possible. Oh, my mistake, I confused these A.O.R. hacks with Snooki and The Situation. Jon Bon Jovi is musical AIDS.
Notable Exception- Richie Sambora dropped his load into Heather Locklear for a long time and still keeps going to rehab.

Kanye West- Would it be racisty to say that this guy is a non-rappable self absorbed publicity whore who actually was offended when he lost a meaningless award to Taylor Swift? Guess what, fuck face, at least she has two tits and a vagina... which gives her three things alot more useful than anything you have or have ever done.
Notable exception - He's tappin' Beyonce. Damn, got him confused with that Jay Zee guy.

The Pixies- Whaddya get when you up: a pussyass band name + a fat fuck + the only woman in the world I wouldn't fuck + 2 guys who I wouldn't recognize if I was running them over with my gas guzzling SUV? The world's most favoritist college band (trademark). That is, if you were in college in the 90's and never got laid. Ooh, I'm a Pixie. Kill me now. The same folk who wear Pixies shirts also stick gardenias up their ass and pretend they're Morrissey.
I saw their movie (I think it's called Suck Eat Suck) and Black Francis was lying on a hotel bed in his skivvies. I may never get an erection again.
Notable exception - Awaiting Black Francis' appearance on The Biggest Loser (or whuddevah that fat person losing weight show is).


That's it for now... I'm going back to my steady regimen of Minor Threat, early Black Flag, Motorhead, The Stooges, Killdozer. And RUSH. PS- Fuck you- RUSH FUCKING RULES! And I've gotten laid when 2112 was on (of course that was back around 1986) Oh yeah, download my band's new rekkid (STABBY ROAD) fer free. (shameless plug).

THESE ARE THE STOOGES- THEY FUCKING ROCK, AND THAT IS A NEARLY 800 YEAR OLD MAN WITH HIS PANTS DOWN.

No Future

 

Every one of us geeks has got plenty of cover songs of our favorite bands. Out here on the internetweblands, are plenty of sites that actually feature nothing but covers. 

In fact many of us have played in bands that paid homage to these bands. Of the 18 songs on here, I personally have been in bands over the years that have performed 7 of em. 

A guy I see in the mirror every morning is playing bass on this one!

NO FUTURE (Released Emotions U.K.)
takes the approach of a “tribute” to the Big 3 of UK old school punk: The Clash, The Damned & Sex Pistols. On one hand you have the slavishly devotional, such as Sex Pistols Experience, with their riff cloning  ersions of “Pretty Vacant” and “Anarchy In The UK”.  The Pistols have turned into self parody, so why bother as a tribute to the originals?

Ladies and germs, the originals, 20 years past the point

The conflict to me is: Punk is spozed to be doing yer own thang, so I am far more impressed by the adventurous rather than the dogmatic. The techno-rappy “Submission” by The Blaggers ITA or the metallic “Silly Thing” with it’s AC/DC tease by Identity are the lure. Sometimes it backfires, ala The Bolsheviks rap of “Holidays In The Sun”, but respect for the attempt. I’d rather hear a car crash than a clone.

The concept works best on The Clash covers. Perhaps because the original band was so diverse and insistent in terms of wearing their influences’ on their sleeves.  The versions of “Capital Radio” (Steve Drewett) and Attila The Stockbroker’s “Washington Bullets” take excursions into world beat- certainly something that mssrs’ Strummer, Jones, Simonon and Headon were no strangers to. These songs totally work- with logical and relevant reworkings. Again, on the covers of “English Civil War (my favorite cover on the album) and “Guns Of Brixton” the songs are re-imagined. “English Civil War” actually sounds like it should pre-date the Clash’s version, taking the song back to it’s 19^th century roots.

The only tunes that fall flat are another clone- “Bankrobber”  Anhern & One Steady MDV add nothing (except a Paul Simonon aping of the vox maybe). Bleach sounds remote on “Complete Control” (pun intended), a miscalculation, as the original is as pissed off a song as there ever was.

There are already couple of really good Damned tribute comps out there, and as the least familiar of the three classic bands,  I was a little nervous that the Damned selections here would not be thought as  out as well as the band deserved. Leatherface’s version  starts off baroque of “Melody Lee” before going full force with Frankie Stubbs'  whisper/gurgle vox.

I was blown away by the Malcom Owen lament “The Limit Club”… very compelling and different- totally no frills, compared to the lush original. Still, very moving. “Plan Nine Channel 7” is one of those “holy songs" to me. My only hope was that Exit Condition didn’t fuck it up. They don’t, but there’s nothing particularly adventurous here either. On the other hand, “New Rose” is done as a piece for strings by The Urchin String Quartet. Cool.  “Love Song”… well, Adrenalin AOD did the definitive cover version about 30 or so years ago. So, I wouldn’t have even bothered if I was Red Letter Day.

“Thanks For The Night”, by Robb Johnson totally acoustic, serves as the coda to the album, a complete 180 from Captain Sensible's’ original.

All in all… more hits than misses on some of the greatest songs ever. Worth checking out.

Toonage:

Leatherface - Melody Lee (Damned Cover)