Heart on a Stick
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Is This the Way Ernie Kovacs Died? (CMJ Day 4, Part 3 - The Horrors, Studio B)
posted 11/13/2006
So what you want to know is: Can we start hating The Horrors (myspace), yet?
Perhaps the reason I finally got to see The Thermals is that I wasn’t actually going to see them. I’ve been curious about The Horrors ever since Ultragrrrl (yes, Ultragrrrl – I usually go there for pictures of heroin addicts and OMG! cute puppies) posted a Chris Cunningham video featuring her label’s newest signee. A minute and forty seconds of creepy things flying out from under Samantha Morton’s skirt.
Here:
Sweet. But also, at its heart, sweet, sweet rock and roll. The Horrors are campy, Crampsy. Punked-up gothabilly, dressed-up garage. It’s music to live by, laugh with (This video is JUST AS GOOD. Chef Boyardee rules.). It’s fun, it doesn’t make excuses. It’s not that there’s nothing wrong with this. There’s everything right with it.
We need rock and roll, right now. Indie rock – if you want to use it as a genre – has become supersaturated. Symptoms? Rampant mediocrity. An embrace of opaque, precious twaddle. Sprawl – every band now has 23 members, proggy tendencies and a concept album.Take two aspirin and ROCK THE FUCK OUT. Look ma, no head!
So that’s what I was looking for at Studio B, that night. Someone good enough to spearhead that shit, some bodies willing to accept it.
*
So why would you hate The Horrors? They have five whole songs, two of which are covers. And they’ve already been on the front of the NME. You could hate The Horrors because they’re getting this huge mechanical push, because they haven’t paid their dues, because they reek of the sort of PR-stink that tells bands that if they treat their audiences like crap they’ll get nothing but love back. Yeah, you could hate them for that.This Productshop showcase was already running late in a very un-CMJ sort of way. The Awful Band that Made Something Die Inside Me took forever to set up, forever to go away. The Horrors were supposed to go on at midnight – their earliest set time during CMJ, I think – and it was already almost one in the morning. Any band who gave two shits would be rushing their stuff on stage, worried the audience was deserting. But not The Horrors. They had their roadie replacing the drum kit. And while every road-tested garage band in the world’ll slap down a piece of plywood with all their guitar effects pre-mounted, this roadie had to very carefully set up each guitar pedal individually.
This is NOT PRECISION MUSIC. That’s sort of THE POINT.
The roadie was about three centuries old, hadn’t cut his hair for the last hundred. He wore tie-dye. He moved like Tim Conway in those “old guy” sketches from the Carol Burnett Show.
I violently shook Productshop rep Wes. Where the fuck was the band? He wasn’t sure what the delay was, but said they were a bunch of nice guys, were upstairs asking, “Can we go on, yet?” So it wasn’t their fault. Which sounded fine, until I thought: Well, then, why aren’t they helping to set their shit up?! Are they afraid we’ll see their wigs and that the illusion will be blown?
Don’t start in about union rules at Studio B.
They were supposed to go on at twelve; they went on at 1:40a.m. We waited at least forty minutes for the band; they played for little more than twenty. The entire first half of the set was a big muddy mess, soundwise, so you’re talking maybe twelve minutes of listenable music.
Should you start hating The Horrors, yet?
Not really.
The covers that they play – Screaming Lord Sutch’s “Jack the Ripper” and The Syndicats’ “Crawdaddy Simone” – suggest some real Nugget-love. Whether that comes from the band or its handlers, I don’t know. But the group, done up in all sorts of shticky goodness, totally buys into the act – and they’re more an act than a band. They’ve got gruesome nomes de rock (Joshua von Grimm, Coffin Joe, etc.). They’ve got the wigs and the make-up and are – ooooo, very scary. Boo! The lead singer –skinny, six-foot-something Faris Badwan – jumped in the crowd several times, trying to start a pit. When (joke?) security personnel took the stage during the second song, he spent most of his time getting in their face.
It’s worth going if only to watch the band’s Farfisa player – Spider Webb – mug like Zacherley. He’s awesome. Little Steven’ll love this shit, if management decides he’s cool enough to get in.
But it’s certainly not worth going as far out of your way as I did. The Horrors aren’t awful, but they’re nothing special. “Crawdaddy” is their best number; “Sheena,” live, sounded quite a bit like the Sex Pistols’ “Bodies.” You can find bands like this playing bars on Atlantic Avenue on weekday nights; I posted almost a dozen of them just the other day. Last night at Midway, the line-up included The Tombstone Brawlers, Memphis Morticians, Tombstones, and Sasquatch and the Sickabillies; last night at Southpaw, the Legendary Shack Shakers, Reverend Horton Heat. There’s even a completely different band from Iowa that’s been using the same name for three years that makes almost the same sort of music. But, see, those guys are from Iowa. These Horrors are from England. And they have a pretty cool video.
These Horrors are about to start a headlining tour. With five songs. Two of which are covers.
*
After the show, the band came out, a new fan came up to Badwan while he was talking with one of his handlers. He wanted to buy a CD. The singer asked the handler if they had any. “Oh God, not on me!” she said. “But you can buy them everywhere.” Except, you know, at the band’s concerts. Go away, little person.
I bet even Joanna Newsom’s more rock and roll than that.
(If you really want to buy The Horrors’ (UK) self-titled EP, you can do so here; Insound’s tracklisting is wrong. It is five songs, something like sixteen minutes.)
*
And in case you missed it, Pitchfork made amends for its part in leaking the new Joanna Newsom album by giving it a very predictable Best New Music nod. They prefer her to Johnny Cash. They’ll get what they deserve.
*
On a totally separate note, it looks like OKGO is at it again.
What? Oh.
*
I-Don’t-Even-Know-Her Dept.:
Everyone went gaga over the Iggy Pop Tour Rider and the Kevin Federline Tour Rider. What, no love for Christopher Cross? His tour rider’s right on his site (pdf file). (thanks)
If you want to get lost between the moon and New York City, you’d best be able to do better than processed meats! And a whole bag of tortilla chips? L’arrogance!
*
Didn’t take long for the bloom to come off this rose, did it? A better run than Manhattan Carnivore, perhaps, but it feels like three months from now he’ll be flashing his tits on Last Night’s Party or sitting with these schlubs arguing over who gets to be D’Artagnan.
Everyone knew the primary motivation for music blogging – as demonstrated by many of its most recognized representatives – was to get free shit and cash in wherever possible (and, disclosure: I got into this Productshop show for free; they couldn’t find my name on the list, but I got in free, anyway). But who’da thunk the rewards were there for bloggers who blog about music blogging? Awsum!
Someone needs to clue those folks at Consumer Reports that they’re missing out on some serious scratch.
*
Anyway, I offer this purposeless playlet:
YODA, BORAT, AND GERARD NEGOTIATE A THREE-WAY
(Warning: Explicitfuck content, and too long the fuck.)
Interior hotel room. There’s a knock at the door. Yoda concentrates, waves it open. Revealing Gerard.
Yoda: Hmmph! Nothing like the photo on your myspace you look.
Gerard: Gerard explain already. Not Gerard’s myspace. (Really myspace here! Be Gerard’s FWIEND!) Gerard post joke, but not funny .Third time EVER Gerard not funny. Other two time during uncomfortable adolescence. Shut up. Anyway Gerard take down. Wish everyone delete unfunny Internet blogposts. Internet much smaller, less stupidfuck.
Yoda: (sighs) Get what he pays for, one does. Come, come! On the dresser, your forty dollars is.
Gerard comes into the room, the door swings shut behind him. Offscreen there’s a FLUSH. Borat enters from another part of the room, starts removing his shirt.
Borat: Niiiice! You would be two most beautiful women in Kazakhstan!
Gerard: Agh! Bear! Gerard no like Bear! Gerard VERSUS Bear!
Borat: Where..? What is?
Gerard: Nevermind. Gerard makes ice break joke. Hairy man put remind of website nemesis.
Borat: Ah? Ah! Hahahahaha. Jagzhemash! I am Borat! This American Internet humor? I like!
Gerard: Yakov have make read Gerard?
Borat: Yes? No! We have Information Superhighway in Kazakhstan! Many Interwebs! Made of tubes, hahahahaha! But indoor plumbing... not so much. So grandma-sister go urinate on motherboard. In Kazakhstan!
(beat)
Now we make good sexytime?
Gerard: Hold the fuck. Gerard have rules. Gerard not mouth kiss! Gerard never. Not just customers, but in for-real life. Germs. And makefuck safe sex! Safe sex not oxymoron like “Good Hodgkins.”
Yoda: But...
Gerard: You fuckingfuck made of latex. And want everyone know Gerard not gay, just enjoy get attention. Reserve right say fuckno to any fuckfuck. Safeword “bricolage.” Questions?
Borat: Yes!
(beat)
Gerard: Fucking what?
Borat: Yes!
Gerard: This guy last funny making wild and crazy with American foxes BEFORE GERARD EVEN BORN.
Yoda: Listen you will while procedures we list. Begin you should by both me and my friend fellating, between us alternating, then at once us both. Then, tie me up you must. Struggle I will. “Help, Yoda helpless is! Help!” Neglect not my breasts you will. As Borat from behind takes you, Frank Oz me you must. Force you will use. Not THE force. Just force. Cute, do not get.
Borat: Yes! Very cute! Sexytime!
Gerard: Three parts question. (1) Gerard neglecting breasts or no? (2) Whatfuck “Frank Oz” verb? (3) Gerard think all this funnier when was Frankenstein and Tonto with Christmas carols.
Borat: Many times I must Frank Oz the small green woman, so I explain. You take your – hahnd? Hand! And nnnnnnnnngh. You know? Nnnnnnnnngh. Up in her uhnuss. Is old, floppy uhnuss, so all goes in. Sometimes two! So! And you at same time make voices like the Grover Monster.
(beat)
You know? From How to Get Sesame Street? “Helloooooo everybuddeeeeeeee! Hellooooooo! Am lovable furry pal bringing you letters Alif and Waw!” He like that very much.
Gerard: No shit. Then Gerard go direct bad remake of Stepford Wives?
Yoda: And careful with the clothespins be. Sensitive, my nipples are.
Borat: I have – hello – have question, yes. My first wife in Kazakhstan, she have very loose vajeen, wide like gorge, so when making the sexy intercourse, I grab both legs on sides like this, like wheelbarrow. And...
(Borat gyrates, unpleasantly.)
...very niiice. Recommend. But then she – my wife – have leg run over by ACTUAL wheelbarrow. Like rain on wedding cake! Hahaha. Very sad. We have make amputate. But then much easier to get to vajeen! Sometime clouds rain silver on Tuesday! After short time is with infection spread, and I have make eldest son shoot her. But for six days, very happy sexytime in my life.
(beat)
Gerard: Whatfuck?
Borat: So, yes. Can we remove one of your legs?
Gerard: This the fuck what we’re doing: Gerard will fist muppet, but not with blue furry noise. Ali G, you make fuck that. But first, Gerard wants Idolator-style reacharound.
Borat: Yes! What is?
(Gerard whispers in Borat’s ear.)
Ah! Tragic winter of 2004 in Kazakhstan whole family of sixty-three eat nothing but ass. Is niiiiiice. I like. I hope you like.
Gerard (dropping pants): But lick like Idolator! Sloppy research, no funny business. No forget ingratiating stroke! Do right or Gerard take out of Top Eight!
Borat: Yes!
Gerard: Fuck! You! José Jiménez! Just get behind and make fuck this end. Where keep Dodge Juice?
Borat: Yes?
Gerard: Nevermindshit. Old URL joke. Gerard bring Astroglide. Astroglide official sponsor Gerard! Send Gerard money free samples! Gerard favorite strawberry! Yum! Now Gerard make gremlin scream like Hello, Autumn!
Yoda: About time, it is.
Borat: Yes!
Gerard: Oh! Hodger. Podger. Hodger, Podger, Hodger, Podger. Hodge!
Borat: Yes! – Old! Lovable! PAL! GrooOHHHHHHHH! Mumfy Bayyybeeeee!
Gerard: Hodgepodgephodgepodge...
Yoda: Help! Help! Help me, Obi-Won! My only hope you are!
Borat: Near! FaaaaahR! NEEEEEEEEEEEEER! FAAAAAAAHRRRR!
Gerard: Packypackypackypackypackpackpack... ZUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNE!
(beat)
Yoda: Clean this up, someone must.
Perini Scleroso enters, shakes head. End scene.
*
I know, I know. Sorry about that. Here, to make it up to you:
YES? YOU THERE IN THE BACK? (4)
1. Nina Bo-bina left...
11/13/2006 4:34 pm
I hate the horrors, but thet have redemption potential.
feel the same about awflll grlll
2. mjrc left...
11/16/2006 7:22 am :: http://lostinyourinbox.blog-city.com
fyi--they're loving you over at the elbows forum for the whole gerard,
borat and yoda thing. : )