R.I.P. Davy Jones : Memories from a Groovy 1960s Childhood

When Davy Jones of the Monkees died on February 29^th, all types of people, regardless of age, background or musical preference, posted loving childhood memories, historical appreciations or Monkees videos on their social media pages or blogs.

But here it is a week later and there are fresh postings underneath many Monkees Youtube videos and under news stories about Davy’s passing. Every time a celebrity dies, there’s a flurry of activity on Facebook,  a combination of heartfelt remembrances, simple R.I.P. postings and the occasional troll insults,  i.e. “crack is whack” referring to Whitney Houston. Usually, the virtual grieving lasts a day or two and then it’s business as usual. But Davy’s death has touched a lot of people across several generations beyond that usual first twinge of shock. There was a joy and sense of fun to the Monkees music and TV show that appealed to kids who discovered them through MTV in the 1980s and syndicated reruns as well as original viewers.

 Maybe that’s why a week later, people are still posting memories and condolences about Davy while the media has long since moved on to its bread and butter - mindless Kardashian news and political bickering. Outside of entertainment, Whitney Houston was known mainly for her drug scandals and bad behavior. That's one of the reasons her death and its aftermath are still in the news weeks later.The mainstream media pays more attention to Whitney because she was younger and more familiar to a generation weaned on MTV. Most members of today’s news organizations came of age when she was popular – Davy Jones was just some guy on an old TV show to them. Plus, her lifestyle made for better copy. You can get a lot of press mileage out of a drug addict; a nice guy, not so much.

 I was in kindergarten when the Monkees premiered. The Monkees - Davy, Micky, Mike and Peter - were the perfect “starter” rock group for a generation too young to appreciate Sergeant Pepper - era Beatles or the raunchy Rolling Stones. Davy was just clean-cut and cuddly enough that Mom could like him, too.  Every Monday night, we waited for the new episode, which always ended too soon. Most of the first album purchases for kids in the neighborhood were Monkees albums. We were very dedicated to the boys, and made a point to be home on Monday nights. God forbid, there was a delay in getting home before the show.  Once we were a few blocks from home after eating dinner at Bonanza Family Steakhouse. The car brushed an 18-wheeler (no one was hurt) and one of the truck’s wheels flew off. Luckily, all matters were resolved and we got home in time to see the show. This was later referred to as the “I don’t care if we hit a train, I wanna see the Monkees” incident.

Davy was the Monkees’ heartthrob, but he was more than just cute. He was a great dancer. My friends and I tried unsuccessfully to imitate his famous sashay dance. (Axl Rose misappropriated this move years later.) And he was as funny as he was cute. There was no such thing as the “funny” Monkee – they were all hilarious in their own way. Davy had funny catchphrases, mannerisms and memorable lines.  “You must be joking.” “It’s cuz I’m short, I know.” were two of the most popular. And who could forget that cute little hiccup sound he made when the boys were in a scary situation, right before they escaped some harebrained villain. To this day, I repeat Monkees dialogue as part of my daily routine. Naturally, 99.9 per cent of the people around me have no idea of their origin. (“What a great-looking cardboard box!” Quick! What episode is that from ?)

When people ask me how I developed my non-sequitur, smartass sense of humor,  I say “The Monkees.”  I don’t remember much about the first season. As the music became more varied -and the humor turned weirder and more random during the second season, my interest grew. I loved the way the guys would break the fourth wall and speak directly to the audience. So cute. I didn’t know, of course, that pot-smoking and whatnot fueled much of it.

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia…

When we were in high school, my friend Mary Beth occasionally brought out her Monkees albums and we’d dance around her bedroom and reminisce, singing along with lesser-known songs like Cuddly Toy (written by Harry Nilsson) and Star Collector (Goffin-King).

“Wait a second!,” Mary Beth exclaimed. These songs are about WHOOREEES! We were listening to dirty songs as kids and didn’t even know it! “Of course, she was exaggerating. The songs were more about flirtatious types than sluts, but then again, mainstream songwriters had to be very subtle  back then, lest the censors confront them with a long list of changes. In the mid-1970s, Davy toured with Micky and songwriters Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart as Dolenz, Jones,Boyce and Hart. .It was fun to see Davy grown-up but cute as ever and Micky, grown-up and manic as ever, on the Mike Douglas Show and ironically, former Monkees Svengali Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert.

 

Davy’s passing is more than saying good-bye to a beloved entertainer. It leads to other memories of a 1960s ( or ‘70s or ‘80s) childhood that are long gone. It’s ironic that Pleasant Valley Sunday was originally written as a swipe at suburbia. Now that song brings back wonderful memories of lazy summer nights catching fireflies in bottles or swimming in our above-ground pools while music blared from our transistor radios.    “Rows of houses that are all the same and no one seems to care”. Those  brick homes and their neatly-manicured lawns are now replaced by boarded up buildings defaced by graffiti, at least in my old neighborhood. The comfy JC Penny and Sears Roebuck-equipped house of my youth now resembles a graffiti-laden respite for gang members.

Davy's vocals rarely faltered.  His pitch was always spot on. Even in later years he always hit the notes in concert. He had a good rapport with his fans, he never seemed to have a bad day or a complaint from his admirers. How rare is that in the celebrity world? As Micky said in a Associated Press interview last week “What you saw is what you got. He was very much a song-and-dance man, life of the party, always telling jokes, always on, an entertainer and just a great guy to be around.”

Some Davy trivia - He originally trained to be a jockey before moving to America to perform in Oliver on Broadway  Davy and other actors from Oliver performed on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964, the same day as the Beatles’ first appearance. Who could have guessed that cute little kid would be the lead singer of a band that would outsell the Beatles and the Stones a few years later?

Davy was adorable til the end. Sure, he gained some weight and often sported the standard uniform of aging Baby Boomer guys – shorts and Hawaiian shirts, but his indefatigable spirit always shone through. He last performed in mid-February in Oklahoma and seemed fine, his normal perky self.  

He was married three times, most recently to Jessica Pacheco - Jones, a Telemundo presenter 30 years his junior. She performed as a dancer on the Monkees last reunion tour in 2011.  He had four adult daughters from his first two marriages. One of them, Annabel, is a recording artist in her own right with the band Lady and the Lost Boys. Public memorials are planned in New York and Davy's hometown of Manchester, England.

Rest in peace, Manchester Cowboy. We will miss you.

"Listen to the band!
Now weren't they good, they made me happy.
I think I can make it alone."

From the Archives: Interview with Tina Root & Susan Wallace of Switchblade Symphony, 1999

This is an interview I did with Tina Root and Susan Wallace of now-defunct Goth/darkwave band Switchblade Symphony. The band released four albums for Cleopatra Records before breaking up in late 1999. Tina and guitarist George Earth now perform in the band Small Halo.  This interview first appeared on Suite 101.com's Rock Music site.

Manhattan, September 1999

 
It's been a long and fruitful road for Susan Wallace and Tina Root, collectively known as Switchblade Symphony. In nearly ten years together, they have paved the way for female industrial artists, and toured with big-name acts such as Sisters of Mercy, Type O Negative, Gary Numan and Front Line Assembly. They take the combination of cartoon innocence and somber imagery to a more refined level, than, say the over the top renegade wilderness of Marilyn Manson. Experimentation with trip-hop on "Bread and Jam for Francis" gave way to the slick, landscape of their newest CD "The Three Calamities". Taking their formal musical training, love of bands like Nina Hagen, Skinny Puppy and Tom Waits, and love of Gothic imagery, Tina and Susan have created a CD that should propel them on their way to a larger and more eclectic audience.


Like the wide-eyed subjects of a Keane painting dressed in blue PVC leather, Tina Root and Susan Wallace, the vocalist and keyboard player, respectively, of Switchblade Symphony create music that is a study in contrast, a combination of disparate elements that work so well together, the effect is totally natural.

The San Francisco based band recently released their third full length CD "Three Calamities" (Cleopatra Records) and just completed a club tour of the U.S. and Canada. I spoke with Tina & Susan before their show at Downtime in Manhattan this summer. Tina Root, the bubbly vocalist, performed in school and got her first taste of rock 'n roll playing bass in a boyfriend's band. Eventually, she gave up the bass and became the group's singer. Susan began her performing career in plays, did some modeling, and turned to music by singing in the school choir in junior high. Her first band experience was less than amiable, as the members of the electronic-dance group she joined told her that she'd never get anywhere. And where are these blundering psychics now? "I'm sure they're very happy working at Tower," Tina interjects. The first well-known female fronted band in the industrial realm, Tina and Susan met in 1989 when a mutual friend introduced them. "I was looking for a band, and she had just left a band," says Tina, "They knew us, and were like, "You guys really need to get together, you really need to talk on the phone!", so our first initial meeting was on the phone and we spoke to each other for eight hours straight."

Soon the burgeoning friendship turned into a musical partnership as well, and Tina and Susan began writing songs and producing homemade tapes. They were a fixture on the San Francisco club scene, hanging out and playing their tapes for anyone who would listen. "We'd be like "Come into the parking lot and listen to our demo tape," and they'd be like "Oh, my God, you guys are psycho," Tina recalls, "Back then the tapes were really bad quality, and it was kind of humorous. We did it to everybody."

Their persistence paid off, and soon Switchblade Symphony were a mainstay on the San Francisco industrial scene. Industrial music, macho as heavy metal in the early part of its reign, welcomed Tina and Susan enthusiastically. "We always played with the boy industrial bands- it seems to have gotten bigger. There are more women around." Switchblade's first gigs were at an Italian restaurant. and ardent word of mouth ensued, followed by a compilation appearance (the song Mine Eyes) and the re-release of their first single "Mine Eyes".
Songs from Switchblade Symphony's incubation stage were featured on a special fan club only CD called "Scrapbook" (only 2,000 were initially pressed) , but we've been getting a lot of response from people wanting it, and including the song after which the band is named, just for the nostalgia of it since its the first thing we created."
Signing with industrial stalwart Cleopatra in 1995, Tina and Susan solidified their line-up with guitarist George Earth and drummer Eric Gerbow and their first CD, Serpentine Gallery was released, consisting mostly of older material. The second CD, 1997's "Bread and Jam for Francis" (named after the children's book) expounded on playfully Gothic imagery and melodies, exploring a feminine terrain with a sense of humor that is rarely examined in any electronic based music. The studio experience of making that CD was a bit more structured and "hands-on". "It seemed a little rushed to us," says Susan, "We had recently gotten new equipment and were learning things and I started to tackle the technical side and when you first start its very mathematical and robs the live acoustic feel from it. It’s kind of hard to mesh the two together and that coupled with the short amount of time we had (in the studio) where we didn't get to flower the songs with the pretty little things to season it with - with the newer ones (the songs on "Three Calamities") we're trying to put both of those together. For mixing down, we like to use old vintage analog which really manipulates and changes the sound and gives it a warmer feel - we put live drums over the drums to give (it) a more three dimensional feel, " notes Susan. Three Calamities was recorded in Daniel Lanois' El Teatro Studios and mixed by Grammy award winning producer Mark Howard.

Switchblade Symphony have toured with acts as diverse as 80s' techno pioneer Gary Numan (who specifically asked that they open for him) as well as dark-hued Brooklyn based rockers Type O Negative. Opening the West Coast leg of Type O's 1997 tour, the band was well-received by the hard-core crowd, whose glittery stage set up and bubble machine provided a marked contrast to their tourmates' stark image. Late Type O singer Peter Steele was a big Switchblade Symphony fan, and the admiration was mutual. "He has such a beautiful, melodic voice," says Susan.


Although the band is embraced by the "Goth" community, they eschew labels. "We're just weird," comments Susan. "We are dark and moody, and like to wear black sometimes. The music is dark and melodic, so I think that the Gothic scene embraced us and opened their arms to us, and that's where our core following is - and we're delighted that they like us. But we're more like nursery rhymes, Witches (from "Bread and Jam for Francis") is like a humorous song, with no underlying dark magic or anything."

Tina and Susan make most of their costumes, and Tina fashioned glitter-encrusted kitties that are a mainstay of their stage show. The atmosphere of each show varies, with forest, underwater and snow themes featured. The band has even expanded its' merchandising, with Switchblade Symphony tank tops, panties and other merch for sale at their shows - and selling briskly. Touring two to three times a year for the past few years, they've graduated from traveling in vans to a fully-equipped tour bus, enjoying the fruits of their labor. "We've been getting along so much better," says Susan, "We're eating better, sleeping better."


With "Three Calamities", Switchblade continues their evolution from underground industrial phenomenon to a smart, sharp-tongued but radio friendly band with songs such as "Invisible" and "Wicked." Tina puts her operatic training to good use, her voice trilling like a lush instrument, adding untold nuances to her terse but haunting lyrics. Susan's keyboard melodies are lean and ethereal, lending a quality that is more dream-like and contemplative than the relentless droning of many other industrial bands. "Therapy" verges on industrial/funk with an infectious, perfect for the dance floor beat. Switchblade Symphony echoes Siouxsie with a cleaner, more sophisticated edge. Tina and Susan ,along with drummer Eric Gerbow and guitarist George Earth, are gifted musicians, pushing American electronica to newer, classier limits. 

Wesley Willis and His Rock Music Joyride

"Rock music pays off. Rock music takes me on a joyride. Rock music keeps me off the hell city bus. Rock music will always look out for me. But I will not let my torture profanity demon shoot it down." - Wesley Willis

What is it about Chicago and outsider music?  Is it the cold weather, the highly segregated neighborhoods and the corrupt politicians that make it ripe for such off-the wall creativity?  Regardless of the reason, it’s interesting to note that two of the most-mentioned outsider musicians  are from the Windy City

The late Wesley Willis, a diagnosed schizophrenic, recorded a plethora of CDs. Despite,or perhaps because of, his condition, he was wildly prolific.  Willis recorded hundreds of songs, both solo and with his band, the Wesley Willis Fiasco. With a blend of humor, obscenity and surreal scenarios, reciting the song titles alone can provide a nighttime of entertainment. (Mustard Plug, Mr. Magoo Goes to Jail) Now, the uninitiated  first comment on Willis' music might be "So, it's  a crazy guy's rantings set to music?” Well, Willis songs might be just as bizarre, but they’re hilarious and have a honesty that charms as often as it shocks. Willis played all his solo songs on a Technics keyboard, reciting odes to movie stars, friends, rock bands, airlines, and  animal’s sexual organs.

His songs were in part, a way to exorcise the demons of his mental illness. Born to a drug addict mother on Chicago’s South Side, Willis overcame his dour background and became an indie music star in 1990s’ Chicago. After being diagnosed with schizophrenia at the age of 27, Willis immersed himself in drawing to battle the voices in his head. He called his psychotic experiences “Hell rides” and rock ‘n’ roll became the way to combat these episodes.

Initially discovered by local bohemian crowd for his artwork, his friends persuaded him to focus his muse/demons on music, and he eventually recorded over 50 CDS for Oglio, Alternative Tentacles and other small labels. American Recordings signed him to a major label deal in 1996, near the end of the alt-rock craze. The albums sold poorly, but Willis continued to record and develop a cult following.  Most of the songs are pretty much identical, musically speaking, and many of the lyrics have a fill in the template kind of feel. In this clip from the Howard Stern show, the lyrics to Willis’ homage to Baba Booey is basically the same as the one to Howard.

His infectious songs will make you burst out laughing. My favorite Willis song “Rock and Roll McDonalds” contains the deadpan recitation “McDonald's sells quarter pounders/ They will put pounds on you.” The un-ironic, plain speak delivery makes it even funnier. (Note: Rock and Roll McDonald's is a real place in Chicago’s trendy River North. The restaurant is decorated with pictures of Elvis and other stars.)

As the Daddy of Rock ‘N’ Roll documentary shows, Willis was kind of a scary looking figure at first sight. At  6 feet, 5 inches tall and  300 pounds,he often wore mismatched sweatpants and shirts and went shoeless. Add wild, ratty  hair and crooked teeth to this ensemble and,  yeah, you  could mistake him for a scary homeless guy.  He usually turned out to be quite a sweetheart when his torture hellride demons weren’t getting to him, that is. He wrote his lyrics on a computer at Kinkos, rode city buses, and hung out with  a tight-knit group of friends and musicians.

Check out Loved Like a Milkshake: A Tribute to Wesley Willis at Archive.org. , with cover versions of his tributes to Alanis Morrisette and Arnold Schwarzenegger. Memorable titles include I Smoke Weed and Suck a Cheetah’s Dick (many Willis songs dealt with similar subjects, just change name of animal and body part) and My Keyboard Got Damaged.  Willis died of leukemia in 2003 at age 40. We miss you, big guy!

Jan Terri: Suburbia’s Answer to Wesley Willis? 

If Willis was the city’s idea of an outsider musician, Jan Terri is white suburbia’s version. Full Disclosure: I went to college with Terri, and even visited her at her Mom’s house once to write a song. Sad to say, the tune was never finished. It wasn’t until someone posted a video of  Losing You on Facebook that I realized she still existed. One quick glance at the video and I knew it was the same girl I’d gone to school with - there’s no mistaking her one of a kind physical appearance. Her music videos were notable in a cheesy, Rebecca Black “Friday” way. Of course, a lot of people post self-produced efforts on YouTube, despite their apparent lack of talent or production values. But Terri’s videos had that extra “something” that turned her into an Internet meme.  What Terri lacked in conventional talent, she made up in chutzpah.  She hawked her homemade music videos to biz people in the ‘90s. Not surprisingly, Marilyn Manson took notice and hired Terri as an opening act for one of his Chicago concerts in 1999.

Like Willis, a certain segment of the hipster population has taken to Terri, perhaps overthinking her persona, as in this article.  Terri is currently recording and planning a comeback for the digital age.

Music Review: Prima Donna: Bless This Mess

Prima Donna, a five-piece band from L.A, has rattled venues in Southern California and beyond since 2004. They've already put down their brash hybrid of punk and glitter rock with a who’s who of famous and infamous punk bands. The group opened for Green Day on the band’s 2009-2010 European tour, and the band’s singer/guitarist, Kevin Preston, performs with the Foxboro Hot Tubs, a Green Day side project. Prior to that, their onstage cohorts in rock ‘n’ roll crime included Texas Terri, Glen Matlock & the Philistines, Eddie and the Hot Rods, and plenty of local SoCal punk bands.

Their first album on Acetate Records, After Hours, introduced their modern take on glitter rock to a wider audience. The band’s second release on the label, Bless This Mess, revs things up a few notches with the help of engineer Chris Dugan’s (Green Day, Iggy Pop) faultless production.

The 12 songs on Bless This Mess have a cleaner, and more mainstream appeal than Prima Donna’s previous efforts, but the songwriting and rock bravado are as sharp as ever. The catchy album opener “Sociopath,” the confident, strutting bop of “Maxine,” and the "Jeepster" era T. Rex undercurrent of the single “Feral Children” are enough to reel in even the most jaded listener. But there are nine more impressive tunes on the CD, and Prima Donna delivers the kind of unapologetic rock energy on it that is missing from most up-and-coming bands touted by the mainstream rock press.

Preston has old-school rock charisma and is quite the frontman in concert. Guitarist Erik Arcane, bass player “Lights Out” Levine and drummer David S. Field provide a non-stop, rock ‘n’ roll party sound derived from influential rockers of the past like the Ramones and Mott the Hoople. Aaron Minton’s sax playing gives the band that something extra, that bit of musical swagger and spice that sets them apart from the handful of young glam punk bands on the scene today. It’s like combining Johnny Thunders’ descendents on guitar (Preston, Arcane) with X-Ray Spex. The foot-stomping “Miss Avenue,” with its sax intro and rollicking piano interlude, defy listeners to stand still.

“Broken” is the album’s most distinctive cut. It wraps ‘60s Brit Invasion pop with the band’s glam influences. It really demonstrates how their sound has evolved.

It looks like 2012 will be a busy year for Prima Donna. They’ve already received a write-up in the Huffington Post for their performance at London’s KerPUNK Festival. They were filmed for a Corona Beer commercial, and their European tour is in full swing in February and March, with a U.S. tour to follow.

Bless this Mess is scheduled for release on Valentine’s Day. If you’re a fan of straight-on, raunchy rock ‘n’ roll, and are tired of scouring iTunes and your old vinyl collection for retro faves, you’ll appreciate Prima Donna’s music. And if you’re a young fan who wants to sample your generation’s version of hipster-free, high-energy rock ‘n’ roll, look no further than Bless This Mess.

Read more:

http://blogcritics.org/music/article/music-review-prima-donna-bless-this/

Book Review: Marlene Dietrich: Life and Legend by Steven Bach

Steven Bach’s well-researched biography explores every lush detail of screen legend Dietrich’s life. First published by Morrow Books in 1992, University of Minnesota Press issued a reprint in March 2011.

Bach documents Dietrich’s early career in Berlin in the first part of the book. Actress Mia May reminisces about the young Dietrich, “People used to follow her through the streets of Berlin; they would laugh at her, but she fascinated them; she made them talk.” Bach reveals that Dietrich studied to be a violinist, but turned to acting after a wrist injury stunted her music career. The chapters "Home Front" and "Lili Marlene" chronicle Dietrich’s role as a tireless performer for the USO and supporter of the American war effort.

Much of the book centers around her Svengali-like relationship with director Josef von Sternberg, who cast her as Lola-Lola in Blue Angel and engineered her iconic films Morocco and Blonde Venus. Author/film executive Bach has something of an inside track on the subject, since he studied film with von Sternberg. Bach sprinkles the book with inside details about Dietrich’s love affairs with Jimmy Stewart, French actor Jean Gabin, John Wayne and other famous men. Most of these affairs took place while she was still married to her only husband, Rudolf Sieber. Dietrich remained friends with Sieber til his death, even befriending his mistress and paying many of the couple’s bills. Along the way, Bach offers more mundane, behind the facade tidbits, such as Dietrich’s insistence on a sparking clean dressing room prior to cabaret performances. She sometimes arrived early, scrubbing floors herself if they were not to her liking.

This 626-page book includes a filmography and over 100 black and white photos. While it doesn’t provide the insider view of her daughter Maria Rivas’s Marlene or mention much about her bisexuality, even film buffs and hardcore Dietrich fans will learn something new from this biography. Some readers may find the prose long-winded, but it’s a vivid read that befits Dietrich’s life.

Read more at Blogcritics :http://blogcritics.org/books/article/book-review-marlene-dietrich-life-and/

Memories of El Duce (of the Mentors)

Some rock ‘n’ roll characters  are so offbeat and offensive to the mainstream mindset that they are forever destined to be cult figures.  El Duce (real name Eldon Hoke) of the Mentors was such a character.

One night in 1983 I walked into the Cathay de Grande, a notorious punk rock club/dive in Hollywood.  Already disoriented after downing three tequila sunrises, I  see three guys  in black executioners hoods walk onto the dingy stage. El Duce, the band’s drummer/lead singer, had a kit decorated with porno pics. The band played three-chord, Spinal tap metal-punk about subjects like the 4 F Club ("Find Her, Feel Her Fuck Her, Forget Her"), anal sex, and other misogynistic tirades. Hard to listen to, yes, but it was a shock-rock act.  Was it seriously PMRC-worthy? I'm not so sure about that.

“What the hell is this?” I thought. One mohawked kid at the back of the club had his own critique “What cultural significance!”, he bellowed.

The next morning, I called up my friend Tony from the pay phone at Howie’s Weekly Apartments (now a Motel 6), where I was living at the time. “Tony, I said, “You’re not gonna believe what I saw at the Cathay last night.” I described the executioners’ hoods and the whole shtick.

“What a buncha fuck!” Tony responded. His curiosity was piqued and he just had to see this abomination for himself.  

In Hollywood, in the 1980s and early 1990s, everybody encountered El or the Mentors. Duff McKagan, in his book “It’s So Easy and Other Lies” recalls the time Sickie Wifebeater, the Mentors’ guitarist, asked him to be the band’s new bass player. Duff declined. A wise choice.

After a few years of club-hopping around Hollywood, my friends and I knew El well enough to enlist him as comic relief in a video we made.  El crushed a beer can on his head and danced around- the famous Duce dance.

On a stormy Valentine’s Day in 1986, the Mentors played a gig at Club Lingerie.  I told Tony, “We’re all going to see the Mentors.” Tony responded with a bloodcurdling “NOOOOOOOOOO.” After the initial novelty wore off, this was a common reaction to seeing the Mentors stage act.

As I continued my rock ‘n’ roll travels, I met people in New Orleans and Florida who had encountered El, usually at sleazy bars. Most descriptions of El Duce contained the words “drunk” and “passed out.”

In the mid-1990s,  El claimed that Courtney Love had offered him money to kill Kurt Cobain and he was filmed for the documentary Kurt and Courtney. A few weeks later, a train in Riverside offed him. The conspiracy theorists had a field day with that one. However, El was more than capable of walking in front of a train of his own volition.

R.I.P., El Duce.

The Mentors continue today sans El Duce.See their Facebook page here.

CD Review: The Green Lady Killers: Just Fine

                      Green Lady Killers live at L.A.'s Redwood Bar

The Green Lady Killers, an all female trio from L.A, channel the Cramps, Joan Jett and the Breeders and wrap it their own special brand of black leather swagger.  The band, originally formed in Phoenix, AZ, consists of lead vocalist/guitarist Lady Van Buren, drummer Cherrybomb and bassist/vocalist Ivy Rose.  Their first full-length album, Just Fine, is now available from Rusty Knuckles Music as a CD or iTunes download.

The 12 tunes on Just Fine blast AC/DC style rock with a hint of psychobilly; fast and furious but with a sexy side. “Power” brings to mind the metal thrash of Betty Blowtorch, while the single “My .45” has a ferocity that could put many supposedly tough male bands to shame. “Another Place in Time” relates the lust and longing of a young rock femme fatale, as does the thrashy “Time Bomb.”  “Dance Floor” boasts a steady groove that proves you can shake your booty and then some to hard-edged music. Singer Lady Van Buren sounds  like Tanya Donnelly when she mellows a bit, like on the intro to “Linger On.” She can sing ballsy rock, but can also deliver melodic, heartfelt vocals when the lyric calls for it.


 The Green Lady Killers play club gigs throughout the  West Coast and Southwest Their résumé includes performances on the Shiragirl Stage at the Vans Warped Tour in 2005 and gigs with bands as diverse as Missing Persons and the Nekromantix. GLK snagged the Best Power Trio title at the 2010 L.A. Music Awards, and they showcased at SXSW with other Rusty Knuckles bands this year.

Green Lady Killers Facebook Page

You Can't Get It on DVD- FM

FM is the type of movie you discover in the afterhours graveyard of a cable channel when you suffer from insomnia at 3 a.m. It’s amusing when you’re sleep-deprived, but doesn’t pack the same punch when you’re wide awake. This quirky 1978 comedy is set in the offices of fictional L.A. radio station Q-SKY. The station’s program director Jeff Dugan (played by Michael Brandon) oversees a bunch of  wacky, Morning Zoo type radio personalities and battles with unhip station management.

The kooky DJ characters include Martin Mull as free-spirited DJ Eric Swan,  who cavorts with groupies and suffers for his art, Eileen Brennan as Mother, the husky-voiced nighttime DJ, Cleavon Little as the hip  Venus Flytrap clone, “The Prince of Darkness” and ex-footballer Alex Karras as the low-rated midday DJ.  These zany personalities and their subplots, along with the ‘70s time capsule music soundtrack, give the film its appeal. Kids who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s will relate to the quirky DJs and their loyal fans. Every city had a radio station like Q-SKY in the '70s and '80s.

FM plays like the feature film version of WKRP in Cincinnati, except that clueless owner  Mr. Carlson and plaid-suited Herb Tarlek have been replaced by a front office with a profits before music agenda. The film’s serious main plot is that old evergreen – big business versus creative peons. The evil owner and sales guy want the DJs to play pro-military commercials and other conservative nonsense. The DJs stage a strike/sit-in and commandeer the station, refusing to give in until the cops come to bash down the doors with a tow truck. The DJs dedication impresses the station owner, and in fairy tale fashion, all is forgiven and the DJs are allowed to run Q-SKY their way.

Unlike the film, the FM soundtrack is easily accessible online, and it mimics what was played on the more laidback FM stations of the time. The soundtrack  - and the film itself- make it seem like the Stones, David Bowie and Aerosmith didn't exist in the late ‘70s, much less the Sex Pistols, the Dammed and Iggy Pop. Save for Queen’s We Will Rock You and Steely Dan’s title track, it’s all snooze-inducing mainstream  rock that was even at the saturation point by the time the film was released, like the Doobie Brothers, Outlaws, Linda Ronstadt and Foreigner.

An amusing film with a lite retro look at the radio biz, FM may bring back pleasant memories of drinking Boone's Farm wine and smoking pot in the school bleachers for the 45 and over crowd. Anchor Bay released a DVD version in 2000, and it has since been discontinued. 

WLUP "The Loop" was Chicago's version of the radio station in "FM". Here is their infamous TV commercial.

Circus, Creem and Hit Parader - Three Great Rock Magazines of the '70s and '80s

                    The first copy of Creem I ever bought, August 1973

"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture," Frank Zappa once said. Or was it Martin Mull –or maybe Elvis Costello? Internet pundits have varying opinions on this matter. However, we do know that Frank told a journalist ,"Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read."

Frank’s quote may actually apply more to current Interweb music news items on Yahoo and AOL than the old-style print mags that inspired his comment. Do we really need constant blog posts about X Factor contestants and American Idol losers flubbing the National Anthem at football games?  It makes me pine for the heyday of my three favorite rock magazines- Circus, Creem, and Hit Parader. 

Circus

Circus combined mainstream newspaper-type journalism with behind-the-scenes interviews and reportage about rock bands. They weren’t gossipy or dirty. They gave fans straightforward news without much pontificating. The magazine was first published in 1966 under the name Hullabalo, but most people equate it with 1970s and 1980s hard rock and new wave. The weekly magazine covered everything Kiss, Aerosmith, Queen, AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin oriented in the 1970s. Of course, the aforementioned bands shared column inches with any band that had a buzz at a given time. Circus didn’t discriminate based on genre. They were an equal opportunity mag. The March 16, 1978 cover featured Ted Nugent, but prominent articles on the Sex Pistols and the Ramones were also included. It wasn’t unusual to find an eclectic pop culture mish-mash edition with articles  about Dan Fogelberg or Linda Ronstadt, popular comedians and TV shows (Steve Martin, Mork and Mindy, etc.) and controversial movies du jour like The China Syndrome sharing space with the obligatory Kiss article. And this mag had the best posters and full-page photos. After I finished scavenging my favorite articles for pin-ups, there was barely anything left in the mag. This explains why I don’t have any intact copies left to sell on eBay. The magazine folded in 2006 after focusing exclusively on heavy metal and hard rock since the mid-1980s.

Creem

Creem was a great magazine for suburban teens in the 1970s  It looked like a music magazine, but  it had a lot more than pretty pictures and music reviews. It had dirty words, sexual terms you hadn’t learned yet, semi-nudity, Lester Bangs and drug references. The music reviews read like a combo of Naked Lunch, a pulp men’s mag  and Roget’s Thesaurus. You had to be intellectual and perverted to understand what was going on – a perfect combo for me.  Also, what was that exactly on the June 1976 cover, hmmm? (See above pic.) I don’t think the proprietors of  the local drugstore in Hometown, Ill. where I bought it even noticed it. I hardly knew what it was, but pot and peppermint schnapps were the hardest stuff for a junior high kid in the ‘burbs back then. I learned a lot from Creem, and not all of it music-related. I first discovered  the existence of absinthe, cock rings and bondage gear from Creem. But I first read about the Runaways, Patti Smith, the New York Dolls and T-Rex from Creem while everyone in the neighborhood was listening to Donny and Marie. I read Pamela Des Barres’ column, Miss Eleganza, Creem Profiles, Confessions of a Film Fox and learned all about Rodney Bingenheimer’s English Disco. (Even at 12, I was the resident neighborhood weirdo.) I convinced my babysitter to watch the New York Dolls on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert one Friday, after reading about them in Creem. When I saw her again Monday morning, she was thoroughly befuddled by the performance. “When you said “New York Dolls”, I thought you were talking about a bunch of weird ladies.”

The first copy of Creem I ever bought in 1973 had articles about Androgeny In Rock, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Jeff Beck and plenty of pics of glam-era David Bowie, Alice Cooper, Marc Bolan and Iggy Pop. One of the first record reviews I read was by Patti Smith. I couldn’t tell you what band she reviewed, but I sure did like the way she wrote about them. A few years ago, one of my friends showed me an old stack of Creems from the ‘70s and ‘80s. I looked through ‘em, but somehow they didn’t pack the same forbidden punch as they did when I was twelve. By the late ‘70s Debbie Harry ,the Sex Pistols and the Ramones were common subjects, along with lesser-known punk bands that Circus and Hit Parader neglected. (Destroy All Monsters, the Dictators, etc.) Creem may or may not exist today. This New York Times article details the struggle to revive the magazine. Creem’s archives, however, are up and running.

Hit Parader

Hit Parader, first published in 1942, printed popular song lyrics of the day. Even when pop music styles changed to rock, punk and new wave, the mag still published lyrics. Alice Cooper lyrics were far removed from “How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?”, but fans still wanted to sing along. One of the first  Hit Paraders I bought –in ’74 or ’75, had a great interview with John Lennon conducted by Lisa Robinson, one of the most prolific rock scribes of the time.

The photos weren’t as glossy as the ones in Circus, but I still plastered the walls with them, especially in the early ‘80s, when the magazine’s articles seemed to get shorter-only a page or two-with short to non-existent interviews. Like Circus, Hit Parader didn’t take musical sides back then- one month Van Halen was on the cover; the next month, the Clash. It wasn’t a “punk” versus “metal” culture then. It was all good. Once the mid-1980s rolled around, the magazine changed format to heavy metal/hard rock exclusively. It’s the only one of the three mags  that still exists today, with a “none more black” website design and cover stories on Slipknot and similar bands.

You Can't Get It On DVD-The Sterile Cuckoo

When you hear the name “Liza Minnelli, what’s the first thing that comes to mind? Cabaret, Liza with a “Z”,  the original Arthur or her mother, iconic performer Judy Garland? Chances are one of her first films, The Sterile Cuckoo, won’t ring a bell. Liza received her first Academy Award nomination for her portrayal of quirky college freshman Pookie Adams in the film version of John Nichols’ novel, The Sterile Cuckoo. The 1969 film received critical raves and  earned BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations for Minnelli in addition to the Oscar nod. A VHS version was released in 1998, but it has yet to appear on DVD or Blu-Ray.

Not many people are familiar with Liza’s pre-Cabaret film appearances. Liza played the mistress of successful writer Charlie Bubbles (played by Albert Finney) in the film of the same name. But her second film appearance in The Sterile Cuckoo proved that Liza had her famous mother’s onscreen acting chops.

First published in 1965, the novel Sterile Cuckoo dealt with the “first-love” relationship between  reserved college student Jerry Payne and Pookie Adams, a quirky but troubled young woman he meets at a bus stop.  The novel is narrated by Jerry’s character, but the focus is on Pookie, whose non-stop chattering and kooky demeanor hide a lonely soul.

The film version, which co-starred Wendell Burton as Jerry, was shot at Hamilton College in upstate New York in 1968. Director Alan J.Pakula produced several films, including To Kill a Mockingbird and Up the Down Staircase before serving as both director and producer for Sterile Cuckoo. Pakula would go on to direct Klute, Sophie's Choice and All the President's Men.

Intrigued by the complex character of Pookie Adams, Minnelli agreed to the role. By the time her film career began, she had already won a Tony for her role as struggling fashion designer Flora Mezaros in Flora, the Red Menace.

  Liza Minnelli as Pookie Adams in The Sterile Cuckoo

The Sterile Cuckoo is first and foremost a character study. While Jerry has a fleeting relationship with his college roomies, Pookie only has disdain for the girls in her dorm, constantly referring to them as “weirdos.” Pookie’s father appears only once, when he drops her off at the bus stop at the beginning of the film. While cavorting with Jerry in a graveyard on a windy day, Pookie reveals that her mother died giving birth to her. Even as a college freshman, Pookie has no friends or relatives to help her pass the time. She’s either alone or with Jerry. During a school break, she pretends to go off to see her father, but she is actually still on campus, by herself. Still, she has a exuberant spirit about her, and this entices Jerry. He falls in love with her, despite her needy, neurotic tendencies. Pookie takes the lead when the couple first trysts in a rustic motel. Jerry’s so shy he can’t even bring himself to undress her. Later, Jerry naively responds to Pookie’s revelation that she might be pregnant and offers, rather unromantically, to marry her. In the end, Pookie’s overwhelming need for affection and assurance -and her self-absorption - drive Jerry away.

The easy-listening song Come Saturday Morning by the Sandpipers underscores several “lovers-romping in the meadows” scenes. It’s charming the first time you hear it, but after the third time those lilting vocals crop up, it’s cringe-inducing. A film of this caliber didn’t need it, and even reviewers at the time, including Roger Ebert, noted this faux pas.

The film's tale of doomed first love on a bucolic college campus compressed the novel’s storyline into a year instead of the three years covered in the book, but there’s no inkling that anything has been “left out” of the film version. Even though there are a few romantic comedy type moments (Cue Come Saturday Morning), The Sterile Cuckoo is a bittersweet account of first love. But isn’t first love always bittersweet?

As of November 2011, there’s no word on a DVD or Blu-Ray release. 

From the Archives: CD Review: William Shatner - Has Been

Has Been
William Shatner (with Ben Folds)
Shout Factory

Review first published in early 2004 on Suite101com


The Transformed Man, William Shatner's first album, was recorded in 1968 during his first tenure as Star Trek's Captain Kirk. Like the original TV series, The Transformed Man, with its kitschy covers of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds", has remained a pop culture touchstone. Unfortunately, Shatner's first foray into music/spoken word has fueled many jibes from comedians and DJs over the years, while Captain Kirk is an accepted part of American, if not universal, folklore. Shatner's second album, Has Been, produced and co-authored by pianist/songwriter Ben Folds, is a bona fide CD, consisting of ten original compositions and populated with guest artists like Brad Paisley, Henry Rollins and Joe Jackson. Has Been tells the story of a man who has traveled through 73 years of ups and downs with self-deprecating clarity.

Has Been blossomed into a full-fledged project when Garson and Richard Foos, contacted Shatner and asked him to do an album for Shout Factory. Folds happened to be on the other line, and signed up as producer. Folds and Shatner first collaborated on on Folds' Fear of Pop, Volume 1. Shatner lent his spoken word soliloquy to the song In Love.

Blasting off with a cover of Pulp's "Common People", Shatner's spoken delivery lends crisp and humorous air to the original's premise. Joe Jackson's vocals interspersed with Shatner's wryly observant phrasing emphasize the lyrics about a rich girl slumming with a poor bloke It's catchy in the way that any good rock song is, and bridges the gap between novelty and a "real" rock song. "I Can't Get Behind That" is an absolutely hilarious Beatnik rant set against a wall of percussion. Layers of timbales, bongos, cymbals crash and burn as Shatner and Henry Rollins trade hilarious rants about SUV drivers on cell phone, bad English and the price of oil. Shades of a madcap version of Bill Holden in Network -- "I'm mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore."

The song "Has Been", an amusing put-down of the armchair quarterbacks who spend an inordinate amount of time criticizing famous people. Inspired after Shatner read a National Enquirer story that referred to him a "has been." But Has Been is not all guffaws and wry observations. "That's Me Trying", written by Folds and High Fidelity author Nick Hornsby, concerns an absentee father attempting to reconnect with his grown daughters. Many "confessional " songs written by younger artists come off sounding overly dramatic or downright whiny, but the personal songs on Has Been benefit from a more mature perspective. "What Have You Done?", a short song about the death of Shatner's third wife, Nerine, is almost embarrassingly painful, while "It Hasn't Happened Yet" has the quiet dignity of a prose poem. Given Shatner's curriculum vitae, Has Been is a powerful, droll, and sometimes somber retrospective of a life lived to the fullest.

The 20th Anniversary of U2’s Achtung Baby: The Songs, the Mythology and the $469 Deluxe Box Set

It’s been 20 years since the release of U2’s landmark album, Achtung, Baby, and Q Magazine is commemorating the event with a tribute CD. The October 26th  edition of the UK music mag includes a bonus CD, populated with covers by Nine Inch Nails, Patti Smith, the Killers, Garbage, Depeche Mode, Snow Patrol….and U2. (It’s actually a Jacques Le Cont remix of “Even Better than the Real Thing”.)

The tribute CD starts with NIN’s version of “Zoo Station.” Sounds like a great idea, but its slow, whispered build-up doesn’t lead to the crunchy wall of sound we’ve come to expect from Trent. The Killers take a piano ballad approach to “Ultraviolet (Light My Way)”,  but, but it fizzles out near the end. Jack White’s take on “Love is Blindness” fares better. Its mired in intensity and the blues and drenched with pain. (Perhaps Jack is trying to atone for his ICP collaboration. )The tribute CD is a hit or miss affair, but its nice to see so many respected alt-rock artist cover U2 songs.

U2, being the money-making machine it is, offers fans many ways to celebrate this milestone, and not all of them are cheap! Bono’s net worth as of this writing, is $900 million dollars (You read that right.), including his share in Facebook. U2 is run like a corporation, not just a rock group, and ya gotta give Bono props in that regard. Let’s be a rock star and compete with the members of the Forbes 400 at their own game.

So U2 are in the top one half of the one percent. OCCUPY DUBLIN…or the South of France. If you’re at the bottom of the 99%, you can buy an anniversary Achtung CD for $13.95. If you’re a little bit closer to the 1%, you could spring for the $469 multi-media box set. Sound preposterous? If U2 fans shell out $350 for concert tickets and $50 a year for “special access” to the U2 website, I’m sure they’ll be plenty of takers for the uber-deluxe box set. For a small fortune, you get six CDs, (with Achtung, Zooropa, and unreleased tracks), 16 art prints based on the album cover, various DVDs (including the Zoo TV concert DVD and the new documentary From the Sky Down) a hardcover book, stickers and, of course, a pair of “Fly” sunglasses. If you can devour all that without your head spinning, you need to get out of the house more.

All the songs from the Zoo TV era (including Achtung’s follow-up Zooropa), put the do-gooder anthems of Joshua Tree on the back burner. They were now replaced by European electronica, distorted guitars and raw emotion, the brazen, show-biz side of U2 had emerged.

Achtung and Zooropa turned out to be the only dark-tinged, pure alt- rock albums the band produced. Well, er, technically, I guess Popmart was alt-rock. It’s accompanying tour did turn out to be an unintended parody of the ZooTV  tour. Since Bono was in character as The Fly and Mr. Macphisto, he could pull off the rock star shtick. He was always a little too Catholic, married and politically earnest to emit a dark, dangerous vibe without going undercover. The Zoo TV tour ushered in a new image for the band. They were funny, dark, sexual and subtly political. Bono sang while words flashing across the TV screens did the proselytizing for him. The Zoo TV tour was technically awesome (for the time), and dizzying in its scope. Zoo TV, along with the endless Guns ‘N’ Roses Illusions tour, epitomized the last great era of arena rock excess by actual rock bands. Today’s music industry foists high-tech strip shows by Britney Spears and Rihanna on kids and calls them concerts.

“One”, “Mysterious Ways and “Even Better than the Real Thing”, the albums hits, aren’t Achtung’s most ingenious tracks. Three other tracks really caught my ear. “Acrobat” veers from expressing incredible venom to a hopeful ending. "Zoo Station's" distorted electronica made me look for more of the same. But “The Fly” was my favorite song by far. Starting with Edge’s sonic blast riff, the song barrels through the senses like aural speed. It hit number 1 in the UK. The song's scenario (a crank call from Hell, according to Bono) and lyrics like “Every artist is a cannibal/ Every poet is a thief” and beat-heavy industrial rock soundscape didn’t attract the same response in the U.S., however, and it only got up to number 61 on the “Hot 100” charts.

Some albums attain perfection. Achtung Baby is one of them. You can dissect it like a novel or listen to it for enjoyment. Either way, it works. Like another masterpiece, Blood on the Tracks, much of Achtung Baby was inspired by a divorce, in this case, Edge’s breakup with his first wife. If you’re in an emotional frame of mind, the lyrics will hit you like the proverbial ton of bricks. If you want to learn more about Achtung, Baby, the documentary, From the Sky Down chronicles the making of the album in Berlin. You can watch the film on Showtime if you don’t have the dosh for the uber-deluxe box set.

U2 performs "Even Better than the Real Thing" at the 1992 MTV Music Awards with Garth (Dana Carvey) assisting on drums.

Actors Wanna Sing : Hollywood Stars as Musical Artistes

Some people may remember the old adage, “Actors want to sing and singers want to act.” Well, that’s certainly true today, with thespians like Jeff Bridges, Billy Bob Thornton, Taylor Momsen and Scarlett Johansson crafting highly-produced and polished albums.

In the 1960s, TV and movie stars often branched out into the music biz with mixed and often unintentionally comical results. Who could forget William Shatner’s classic interpretations of Mr. Tambourine Man and Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?   During the 1970s, teen TV heartthrobs like Anson “Potsie” Williams and John “Barbarino” Travolta released solo albums to capitalize on their popularly with teenage girls. These albums are remembered now mostly as pop culture time capsules.

Today’s actors turned musicians are in it for creative expression and respect, not just kitsch value and a quick buck. Jeff Bridges performance in Crazy Heart as down-on his luck country singer Bad Blake surely inspired his second real-life turn as a country vocalist/songwriter. (His first album, Be Here Soon, was released in 2000.) The self-titled album, contains 11 original songs that evoke   With longtime friend and legend T-Bone Burnett producing, Roseanne Cash helping out on vocals and a cadre of notable Nashville sidemen, Bridges’ authentic, amiable voice evokes Gordon Lightfoot crossed with a gritty, seen-it -all-but- kept-on-going Americana charm. The album shines on hopeful cuts like the Stephen Bruton penned What a Little Bit of Love Can Do.

Billy Bob Thornton began making music in junior high and played in several local bands in Texas and Arkansas before hitting in big in Hollywood as an actor/screenwriter with Sling Blade. Thornton rekindled his music career in 2001, with a solo album Private Radio. Three more solo albums followed, as well as session work on albums by Earl Scruggs and Warren Zevon. The Boxmasters, Billy Bob’s Americana /rockabilly band   released their self-titled debut CD in 2008, followed by a Christmas album later that year. The rowdy two-disc set Modbilly followed in 2009

Zooey Deschanel branched out into indie music via her role in the 2007 film, The Go-Getter. After recording a cover of  the Linda and Richard Thompson song, When I Get to the Border with musician M.Ward for the soundtrack, she and Ward  began working together on some of her original songs. The project resulted in the duo’s ongoing indie-pop band, She and Him, has garnered positive reviews from critics for its breezy, Mamas & Papas influenced retro sound.

Former Gossip Girl Taylor Momsem set the celebrity sites ablaze with her recent revelation that she was quitting acting to devote time to her music career. While some might chalk this move up to youthful experimentation, Taylor is only 16, but her band’s music has been compared to Led Zepplin with a female singer. Taylor wails like a grunge-era Courtney Love with ‘80s Goth thrown in for good measure. She has a strong, rock ‘n’ roll voice, not a trained theatrical voice like a lot of young actors, and one could never mistake her for an actress moonlighting as a :rock star.” Pretty Reckless formed in 2009, and Interscope Records signed them in 2010.  The band’s first album Light Me Up was just released, with the band playing tour dates in Australia, England, Germany and the U.S. They even played the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland this past July. Her route is similar to that of quirky actress turned hard-rocker Juliette Lewis, whose female Iggy Pop music and stage persona seemed almost a natural extension of her roles in Kalifornia and Natural Born Killers.

Boasting a marquee name can lead fans to listen, but won’t necessarily make them-or critics-approve. Anywhere I Lay My Head, Scarlett Johansson’s ambitious album of Tom Waits covers, featured guest appearances by David Bowie and members of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but even musical star power and lush orchestrations couldn’t set the project on a winning course with fans, and the album faded away. Johansson’s subsequent musical project, Break Up, with indie musician Pete Yorn, fared better. Yorn enlisted Scarlett to play the modern-day Brigette Bardott  to his updated version of French songwriter Serge Gainsbourg, and the result is a melancholy tale of  a sputtering romance  told by two soon to be ex-lovers.

Of course, this is just a partial listing of recent singing actors. Minnie Driver has a country singing career;  Nicole Kidman did a duet of Something Stupid with Robbie Williams, and so on and so on. Most of the celebrity albums are well-produced and have some artistic merit. Whether their musical efforts will resonate emotionally with fans as much as their dramatic performances is an open question. Fans have fond memories of the musical blips by Potsie and Barbarino, if only for the camp value  Will today’s thespian musical releases be remembered by fans in a few decades-or even a few months? Only time will tell. 

Milla Jovovich channels Maya Deren in the video for Gentleman Who Fell, 1994

Book Review: The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture On The Brink by Mark Dery

(The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium was published in December 1999, before 9/11, the economic meltdown, reality TV, etc. I would love to see an updated version of this book. This review was originally published on January 27, 2001.)

In his book, The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture On The Brink (Grove Press), social critic Mark Dery, a contributor to The Village Voice, as well as numerous e-zines, deconstructs and filters the excesses of post millennial America. He explores the once seamy underbelly of media and culture that has now become mainstream. One perusal of this book, and I can hear my dearly departed grandpa say "I told ya!! World's going to hell in a handbasket!"

Dery examines the whos, whats and most importantly, the whys of America's current freak show climate. The best chapter is "The Cotton Candy Autopsy" which focuses on evil clowns, deciphering all the scary critters from Ronald Mcdonald to John Wayne Gacy, but with no mention of the "Evil Clown" CD store in Chicago, a personal favorite. Taking this way of thinking a bit further, another chapter focuses on freaks of nature as the norm, most noticeably the cornucopia of breast implants and plastic surgery as common as Clairol, and the transference of body image into something unnatural.(The porno industry would have you think there's nothing strange about a 110 pound woman with 40 FFF breasts.) The cluttering of nature by the surgeon's scalpel is further explored in a chapter about cloning and childbirth without women. Who needs to have a baby the old fashioned way. "1984" and "Brave New World" are here in starkest detail - for good or naught hasn't been determined yet. The Unabomber took umbrage at such scientific progress, though, and destroyed many innocent lives, thanks to his lack of participation in sports as a child, inability to get a girlfriend, and hatred of technology (Chapter 13).

Living freaks aren't the only ones gaining popularity-witness "Formaldehyde and the New Grotesque"(Chapter 7) introduced to the layman by the Nine Inch Nails "Closer" video. Joel - Peter Witkin and his contemporaries, most noticeably the Mutter Medical Museum and their collection of medical oddities, are part of a whole subgenre of artists re-creating and photographing malformed child skulls and conjoined twins. It's a different, artier way to capitalize on side of human nature that gawks at car wrecks.

Personally, the subdued grotesqurie ensconced in a tiny chapter about Home Shopping's Gallery of Dolls brings all this weirdness to a shuddering reality for me. I worked for a doll collector magazine a few years ago and talk about a freaky world. Like the clowns, there's a nasty underside to those sweet-faced little Angelique dollies and the blue - haired old ladies with life sized recreations of real children in their homes.
(It's no surprise Anne Rice is a big doll collector.) Hey, did you hear the one about the 60-year old doll designer hawking her creations on HSN's Gallery of Dolls with her 30-year old boy toy beside her wearing Peter Pan tights. THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

But fear not, there's a lot of sprucing up on the horizon.  In our Disneyfied suburban homes (see Chapter 8, re the clean-up and packaging of everything from Times Square to suburban neighborhoods by Disney and their peers), we can indulge in all this voyeurism of the hideous & riveting in our den on Mickey Mouse Lane while our teen-age kids tattoo their ankles with the Nike corporate swoosh. Fringe elements are now mainstream, bloodsports and piercings and Satanism are featured on the Five O' Clock News. This is now a fringeless society. What's left in the underground if serial killers and psycho clowns are joke fodder for DJs in Dubuque? If there's anything that Dery's essays, read one right after the other, indicate, it's that the world in general has turned into a one big freak show, with "normalcy" being the exception. Is it really a brave new world, or merely an empty, soulless one?

The Front & Baker's Pink: Two Overlooked Bands from the '90s

Back in my New York rock critic days, I received a monthly shopping bag filled with review CDs and cassettes (yes, cassettes - it was a long time ago) from my editor. I’d listen to most of ‘em once and then sell them or give them away.  Occasionally, though, I’d find a gem that I’d keep and play over and over again.  One such cassette was by a  Kansas City quintet called The Front, who had signed to Columbia Records in 1989. I kept playing my freebie cassette over and over one night. At about one in the morning, my roommate admonished me. “What hell are you doing? You have to get up at six o clock to go to work!” Well, I was kinda sleepy in the office the next day, but it was worth it.

The Front’s self-titled album got lost in the avalanche of bands signed by the major labels at end of the hair metal craze.  The band’s sound alternated between Love- era cult, blues rock and paisley revival with a dark side. Singer Michael Franano looked like Michael Hutchence or Jim Morrison, depending on your preference. And the band dressed in a style that could best be described as “hippie glam”, a refreshing change from the spandex and black leather jackets of the time. Every song on the album was a winner-there was no fluff or filler on this baby. The tour de force Violent World, the 60s retro-pop Sunshine Girl, the brooding Sin and the sensual strutting of Le Motion deserved more airplay than they got back in the day.

The band did the whole hard rock concert circuit, opening for Alice Cooper, Aerosmith, and Lenny Kravitz, and shot a few videos. Still, the Front never achieved substantial success despite having Doc McGhee of Motley Crue fame as a manager. Even glowing press from music mags couldn’t stir up widespread interest. 

By 1993, the band had a new record company and a new name – Baker’s Pink. The songs on their second album had a harder, trippier edge to them, as though the sound had been fine-tuned to fit in better with the suddenly popular grunge and alt-rock movement. Still, songs like Watercolours and Burn On retained singer Franano’s signature swagger. Unfortunately, the timing was off once again, and Baker’s Pink faded into obscurity just like The Front. 

Franano went on to work on music for film and TV, including Woody Allen’s Celebrity, Melrose Place and Party of Five. In 1998, he reinvented himself as Michael Moon and released a solo album. In a 2010 interview in Sugarbuzz Magazine, Michael mentioned that he is working on a new website and hopes to include live recordings from Baker’s Pink and The Front, as well as some new material, on the site. 

Michaelfranano.com