Author Archives: Steve Moyer

Hmm. . .

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The Keith Morris book tells me this is the first band Keith managed. I knew nothing about them, so I had to check it out. This is pretty damn good.

I love:

1) The Gibson/Marshall sound and the sound in general,

2) The little guitar riff that drives the entire song,

3) The Chuck Berry solo,

4) The drummer.

Drove me nuts for a while trying to squeeze who the singer sounds like out of my brain. It’s Leonard Graves Phillips from The Dickies.

I have a feeling I’m gonna be disappointed, but I need to do more investigating.

This is what pop/punk should be.

A Gym Song I Can Stand

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I hear/see this at the gym and I can live with it. Although I’m puzzled why most everything that gets mass attention these days with any kind of heavy guitar sound must be of the Black Keys imitating The White Stripes imitating whoever variety.

I shouldn’t complain. At least it’s not fucking Cake By The Ocean for the trillionth Chinese Water Torture time.

I will say that, if we’re doing this kind of stuff, I’ll take this all day. From my pick for most underrated album of all-time, Masters Of Reality’s Blue Garden.

The Pusher Man Is Comin’

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Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats are touring the US right now. You owe it to yourself to get out and see them. They’re very likely to be playing an easy driving distance from you very soon. The two opening bands look interesting as well. I will see them in Asbury Park at the Stone Pony on Friday, the 9th. Surely Bruce will be joining them onstage for an encore.

This is my kind of today’s music, meaning it’s not of today. There are no happy lyrics about dancing, no banjo or mandolin, no woahaaaooo’s.

This is their latest “single.” I dedicate it to Lawr because I know he was a big-time pusher before he got married and all domesticated.

Peter also once told me his dad was a drug dealer. Then he said he was a gym teacher. I don’t know what to believe from these guys.

Punk Errata

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Almost finished with the John Doe L.A. Punk history book. It’s very good, although probably not intelligent and versatile enough for this audience. Ran into this interesting mistake in Charlotte Caffey’s (Go-Go’s guitarist) chapter about Jane Wiedlin (other Go-Go’s guitarist):

Jane had had a mad love affair with Terry Hall, the lead singer of Madness.

Terry Hall sang for The Specials, not Madness. Not quite on the order of saying Mick Jagger sang for The Beatles, but in the neighborhood. To top it off, Caffey mentions soon after that The Go-Go’s toured with Madness. I would imagine spending weeks touring with Suggs (crew cut footballer guy) to be much different from spending weeks touring with Terry Hall (floofy new waver guy).

Was this a senior moment brain fart, a lifetime of too much drugs, carelessness, ignorance, too much mad in the same sentence? Where was the editor?

Well, Madness was way better than The Go-Go’s and The Specials were way, way better than The Go-Go’s so who cares, I guess.

Turbonegro Must Be Destroyed

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Belated concert review from Monday, 6/27:

Everything started out well enough. I love Underground Arts. But I knew the Turbonegro set list had changed. You see, one of the greatest regrets of my life is having never seen the real Turbonegro with Hank Von Helvete. The last time I saw them (and the first time I saw them) a few years ago in New York, it was their comeback tour, with new singer Tony “The Duke Of Nothing” Sylvester. For that tour, they were more or less a Hank tribute band, playing all the household name Turbonegro hits. It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty good.

Since then, Turbonegro has changed. Their new sound is way, way too poppy. The set list two Mondays ago was dominated by new stuff and Party Animals, my personal choice as the worst Hank Turbonegro album. And only one song from Ass Cobra, arguably the best hardcore album ever. That’s a toughie.

But nothing could prepare me for the very long encore. Each member of the band was introduced to an extended mostly-awful cover song. I remember Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting (the best), Van Halen’s Jump, and The Heat Is On (the worst – forget who does that and I’m not gonna go look either).

It was like a nightmare.

Finally, the band took a bow and left the stage to. . .I couldn’t make this up. . .We Built This City.

Typing this out, it seems like they were simply playing some over-the-top “let’s offend the audience as best we can” routine. If it was that, I’m really glad, but I don’t think so.

In any case, I’m completely through with Turbonegro until I have conclusive evidence things have gone back to semi-normal.

Here’s a video, of their latest crappy song that I posted a few weeks ago. You can see my fuzzy head in the bottom right corner, starting at about the 45 second mark.

Why? Some Boring Self-Indulgence

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Since it appears the fight is over after one round, I was thinking further about why rock ‘n’ roll discussion always has to include discussion of music that isn’t rock ‘n’ roll.

If this was Country Remnants, we wouldn’t be discussing disco. If this was Disco Remnants, we wouldn’t be discussing Black Sabbath.

What are Donna Summer and Miles Davis doing in the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall Of Fame? Does the Jazz Hall Of Fame feel obligated to induct The Beatles? Surely there were bits and pieces of jazz in Beatles’ music. (The Miles Davis Wiki listing says, “In 2006, he was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, which recognized him as ‘one of the key figures in the history of jazz.'” Huh? It ain’t “The All Kinds Of Music Hall Of Fame”, boys and girls.)

What is rock ‘n’ roll? It works like the porn test, when I hear it, I’ll tell you.

Was also thinking we should change the name of this blog to “Rock ‘n’ Roll Remnants – And Disco.”

Hooray!

A Little Housekeeping

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1) Just started reading Under The Big Black Sun:A Personal History Of L.A. Punk by John Doe. It’s a little pretentious (like X) but I can tell it’s gonna be a great read. Highly recommended.

2) Despite overwhelming contrary consensus here (some rock ‘n’ roll site, huh?), the book reminds me that disco truly did (and does) suck.

3) Was forced to listen to Down At The Sunset Grill at the supermarket this morning. Sheesh, what a piece of dog shit. Toggles between droning (not in a good way) and meandering. What is the appeal of this music? Someone, please tell me.