ANARCHY IN A RED STATE: SEX PISTOLS AT THE LONGHORN BALLROOM

Last night, Frani and I went and saw The Sex Pistols with Frank Carter at the Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas.  The last time The Pistols were there, (circa 1978) the show featured a disastrous ending that finished with John Lydon asking the crowd if they “ever felt like they’ve been cheated”. This was well documented in Julian Temple’s masterful documentary, The Filth & The Fury. 

In a touch of serendipity, Merle Haggard's son, Ben, is performing one night after The Pistols, just as his old man did in 1978, at the same venue.

September 11, 2026 brought a return of sorts. We showed up and watched original bassist and key songwriter Glen Matlock, guitarist and Lonely Boy author, Steve Jones, drummer Paul Cook, and “supplemental” lead vocalist Frank Carter take the stage and literally rip it up for a good hour plus. 

Jones sounded great, that Les Paul Bollocks tone in full lion’s roar,  Cook drums like he’s 25 years old, tight and smart, (percussion is a physical excursion at any age), and Glen Matlock knows and owns the material inside and out; as well he should, he wrote the shit. 

And Frank Carter policed the fucking stage. He's been there, and led the troops from beginning to end, the boys could not have picked a better lead vocalist for this incarnation of the band.  

Carter is an exceptional showman, a true punk rock athlete, singing “Pretty Vacant” from the pit without losing a note, showing respect to the ORIGINAL CORE Sex Pistols on his stage at every given opportunity, (even honoring them by distancing himself as he did so), shutting everything down and directing traffic when someone had either fallen ill or gotten injured down below, creating the first all ladies mosh pit, and gratefully thanking Dallas multiple times for waiting for The Pistols to return. (Their original appearance was canceled a year ago due to Jonesy breaking his wrist).

Johnny Rotten might be walking around the country right now, callously calling what’s touring as the Sex Pistols some sort of “karaoke“,  but he can eat a lit fart. How can you take seriously someone who once roared against “the fascist regime” of the royal family, that is now flying the MAGA flag?

Regardless, last night was legitimate punk rock;  If anybody out there has a chance to see this group, I recommend taking it in.  They're in Austin tonight and Houston tomorrow, folks. 

Last night's show resonated with us in a big way.

It’s nostalgia, but it’s new. 

It’s emotional, but they’ll make you laugh.  (Both vibes present in their cover of Sinatra’s “My Way”.  Which was mounds better than Sid’s).

It’s still anger, but it now carries with it some sense of hope.

Will T.

Back in 1990, my friend Matt and I were discussing music, which to be honest, is what we’d do constantly. Matt had told me that he was listening to Chicago’s Steve and Gary show, broadcast on WLUP FM.  They had a musician on that he thought I would find interesting. He told me the singer/songwriter seemed like a country/rock type artist who had somehow named Minneapolis’ The Replacements as an influence. The Replacements were not Matt’s cup of tea, but they were definitely among my favorite artists at the time and still are. Kudos to Matt for going above and beyond and thinking of me. 

The artist was Will T. Massey. 

So I tucked away that for the future and moved onward. Somewhere along the line, Matt and I were at a record store, and I was digging through a cut out bin of cassettes. It was there that I found a promo copy of Will‘s 1990 self-titled debut album.  As a preface to a lot of possible musical stories, "I popped that into my tape deck…" 

I was fucking gobsmacked from the opening track.

From Send Up the Smoke to A Summertime Graveyard, I was just blown away. During the summer of 1990, I was listening to this tape constantly; so much so, that I would see my nephews, Joe and Adam, playing in the other room while I babysat, and Adam would be lip syncing to Send Up the Smoke as he pushed his Tonkas around.  Over the next few years I lost track of that tape and Will T. 

In the late 2000s, I had stumbled across an article about Mr. Massey stating that as the 90s crumbled, Will did along with them. He fell off the map. Turns out he suffered from schizophrenia; this rode him into the ground. After years of being gone, in 2008 or so, he found treatment of a sort. He then popped back on the music scene in the south in 2009. His return included a couple of CDs and an Austin songwriter of the year award in 2012. 

I contacted him directly on Facebook and thanked him for his songs. I told him that Smoke and You Take the Town had been there for me in multiple situations over many years. That the songs had nurtured me through some difficult times more than once.  Will thanked me for loving his art and was glad those songs were there for me. He always closed out his correspondence with:

Peace, 

Will T. 

It wasn’t a penpal relationship. I wasn’t a babbling fan trying to coat him with unwanted attention. It was just a couple of back-and-forth expressions of appreciation, if you will. A friend once told me that the internet shrunk the world. 

and he was right.

I was able to thank Will, as I have been able to do with a few other musical artists as well. But then Will vanished again as quickly as he had popped back up,  Leaving a couple of albums and a bevy of songs in his wake. 

I recently found a blog from one of his cousins,  one that had spent much time with him over the years and misses him deeply to this day. He hasn’t spoken to Will in over eight years.  He hopes Will is still out there and does his damndest to keep Will and his musical legacy alive on his little corner of the internet. You can find the narrative here. Buller's Back Porch

He definitely misses Will and there’s some touching stuff here to be taken in. And in my own way, I want to preserve Will‘s music too. Will touched more than a few lives in his time with his art, and it seems from the comments on the blog he still is . 

Here is Will T.Massey in his 1991 prime on Austin City Limits.

   

Wherever you are, Will, 

Peace. 

Samhain Project 5: The Young Ones: Nasty

"Excuse me, do you dig graves?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're all right."

It was sometime in 1984.  I was only about 12 or so the first time I encountered BBC's The Young Ones.  As I watched on MTV, it was a sitcom about British angry college youth, living in their dorm (or flat) and shouting at each other.  But like many of my contemporaries, I loved it.  It aired from my perspective anyways, Sunday Nights, right after Monty Python's Flying Circus, and before another British piece of television, which escapes me at the moment.  And then 120 Minutes.  

I loved the show so much that I eventually passed it on to Aidan decades later. The memories of it were so strong for the two of us, that it led to amazing text conversations like this one.

Anyways, I watched every episode, but the one that really stuck with me was Season 2's Nasty.  It wasn't intended as a Halloween special, as it aired originally in May, but it certainly fits the aesthetic.  From the opening credit's Horror styled graphics to its vampire-related plot. See, the 4 young protagonists have got a video, (Yes, they've got a VIDEO!) that is being used on loan from Harry the Bastard.  Sadly, none of these fuckers know how to work a VCR. 

They're trying to watch a video nasty of course.  For those not in the know, a "video nasty" is a banned videotape in the UK, a case of horrendous censorship pushed upon Britain by the British Film Commission.  Some titles took decades to be freed up.  The whole thing was bollocks.  Anyways, do they get the VCR to work?

It doesn't matter.  A vampire shows up, the boys run, and the first time I saw the episode, it was my first taste of The Damned.  And of course, they perform Nasty, one of their more memorable tracks.  And, natch, it's a song about video nasties.  Perfect.  I fell in love with the band at this point.  They looked bizarre, they were loud, their music was extremely varied, and unlike many of their contemporaries, they could play. 

As a 12 year old, I overthought the shit out of everything.  And as far as things I overthought, The Young Ones was no different.  First of all, they were edgy as fuck.  Way more than any of the sitcoms I was watching that were produced stateside.  Angry British youth in the era of Margaret Thatcher?  Should one be surprised?  But every once in a while I'd see a flicker.  Being an inquisitive young lad, I recorded this episode, found the flicker and guess what?

It was a still image of an outdoor spigot.  Pretty Benign.

But part of me thought that something sinister may be going on, because it didn't seem to make any fucking sense.  Was this some sort of weird attempt at a subliminal imprint?  Who knows, but it weirded me out.  Not enough to stop watching the show, of course.  It was too funny to do that.  If I was going to keep listening to AC/DC despite Night Prowler's presence on Highway to Hell, why interrupt this?

Years later, I'm still throwing my Young Ones DVD in for that 80's flashback.  And I miss the shit out of Rik Mayall despite his lack of American appearances,  

With MTV shuttering this week, it's an end of an era, one that actually ended a long time ago when the channel stopped being Music Television.  But when I remember back to my earliest days of watching cable's musical stalwart, The Young Ones is a healthy chunk of it. 

 

Musical Thoughts: “I like the old stuff”

A lot of people utter the phrase “I like their old stuff”, particularly when it comes to actors, directors, and authors. 

But, boy does it come into play with musicians and bands. 

For instance, in my opinion, Aerosmith was better before their 1980 break up.  The Stones reached their peak with Sticky Fingers. Glass Houses was Billy Joel’s epoch. 

But the peak of all this discussion to me is AC/DC.  Their best stuff hands down was the Bon Scott era. Powerage, Let There Be Rock, and Highway to Hell are amongst the greatest hard rock albums ever.

But with that, comes a bit of a mystery.  I fell in love with AC/DC at the age of 9 with Back in Black . This, of course was their first record after Bon died, sadly from alcohol induced aspiration in January of 1980. 

Bon was a legendary gutter poet. It’s true many of their songs were about sex, booze, and Rock and Roll, but Bon had a way with double entendres and turns of phrase that made the lyricism smarter than it’s topics.  Unlike the post-Back in Black material however, Bon could venture into territory that stretched a bit.  What’s Next to the Moon, Down Payment Blues, Overdose, and If You Want Blood were songs about the human condition and even ventured into political or somewhat romantic territory. 

This is where my question lies.  Back in Black's lyrics were gutter poetry at its finest.  And Bon’s replacement, Brian Johnson, never wrote lyrics like the ones that appeared on that album ever again.  Despite the bands insistence that Brian wrote all the lyrics, did he then only have one album in him?  

What about the episode of VH-1’s Behind the Music where Malcom Young stated that the music was set and the rest of the band were “ready for bon” just before he passed away?  I don’t know that I believe the songs were complete without the lyrics and even some of the vocals being demo-ed.  Historically, I don’t know that the band worked that way. 

We will never really know, but when I listen to You Shook Me All Night Long, Have a Drink On Me, and Rock and Roll aint Noise Pollution,  I have my doubts about the author of Back in Black's lyrics. Especially knowing that What Do You Do For Money Honey had been written as far back as Powerage. 

It’s all a mystery, and will remain so.  It’s been said Bon played drums on some of Back in Black's demos, and past interviews stated Bon contributed “a little bit” lyrically. 

Who knows?  

If you read The Last Highway by Jesse Fink, I think you’ll be further convinced. 

A Christmas Vinyl Destination: Chipmunk Punk

I don't know where the songs on Chipmunk Punk caught my 9 year old ears, but the record ended up on my Christmas list in 1980.  Somehow, gift-giving channels got crossed and I ended up with two copies, but to rest the heart of the cousin that was feeling bad about that, I told her: "It's always good to have a back up!"

When you had the fumblefingers I did with vinyl, that was the truth, yo.

Now, on Chipmunk Punk there's no God Save the Queen, I Don't Care About You, or Johnny Hit and Run Paulene, this shit's meant for kids after all. Though many cult record enthusiasts through the 40 years since its release have apparently complained about the lack of true punk on its track listing, I rather dug it. It really was my introduction to New Wave and Power Pop, and that's no joke.  Blondie,  The Cars, three from The Knack, and Glass Houses-era Billy Joel were all dropped on me here.  All artists and albums that frequent my personal rotation to this day.

It may have been the pre-empt to my true punk turn seven years later in Wausau, WI.

Besides, it is very difficult for me to visualize Alvin, Simon, and Theodore thrashing about on stage with safety pins grafted to their fur.  Yes, please try to picture Alvin with the A on his shirt adjusted to the "Anarchy" icon, Simon slam dancing with Wendy O Williams, and Theodore attempting to stage dive during a solo for California Uber Alles.  Wait.  There's no solo in that song. 

It also caused a resurgence for the Chipmunks as they bounced back into the public eye like they hadn't been since the late 60's.  I can remember their Saturday Morning cartoon igniting just a year or so after this record went gold.  

 YES.   Chipmunk Punk sold over 500,000 copies, and that's pretty amazing for a novelty record.  One that doesn't include this on it:

 

I still have my copy, and no you can't have it.  A wonderful Christmas gift from 40 years gone by is still resting comfortably in my album stacks.

The Santa Project : Harry Connick, Jr.

Harry Connick, Jr. has been someone I've long admired.  His career started uber-early as a pre-adolescent piano prodigy (check out his jazz album Eleven, title reflecting his age) out of Louisiana.  Amongst jazz faire he recorded, he also flexed serious prowess as a Sinatra-styled crooner with the same big band kick.

Hollywood was next; he scored films, and he starred in them.  Roles varying from romantic comedies to serial killers proved no serious challenge.  He has game.

Then, to top it all off, he hosted a daytime talk show.

I'm here today however, to discuss what may be the best Christmas album ever recorded.  No, I'm a sucker for Christmas tunes, but I prefer to start off after Thanksgiving with my listening. That is unlike some fools who jump on board with the 1st of November, quietly increasing potential exposure to Mariah Carey.

Harry's first of three Christmas long-players is perfect for Thanksgiving evening.

   

Opening with the big band swing of his killer Sleigh Ride,  this rollicking jazz jam method doesn't have to be the style across the board, however.  Let it Snow,  Frosty the Snowman, O Holy Night, and What Child is This? are classics that are all stylistically different, but excellent examples of what Connick does best.

Half the album are Connick originals including the title track that oozes that heartwarming feel associated with the holidays.  A gospel tune, I Pray on Christmas, just fits in here like a puzzle piece.  Two nifty curveballs are a super version of Ave Maria that is in no way out of his reach, and a potential tradition starter called What Are You Doing New Years' Eve?, perfect for those not ready or willing to stop the holiday musical embracement.

When it comes time to break out the music that accompanies "the most wonderful time of the year", Harry Connick, Jr. is usually the first disc I break out.

And just in time for this year, (and heck, as bad as the last couple years have been, we deserve it), Harry's back with his fourth Christmas record, Make it Merry.

Here's a sample:

The Santa Project : Compare and Contrast

 

Which one works best for you?

 

and remember it was originally done by SNL's Horatio Sanz and Jimmy Fallon.

Vinyl Destination: Rock and Roll Iconography: Gerard Huerta

A few weekends back, I was cleaning some of my vinyl albums.  

Yes. I do that. Shut up.

Anyways, looking at the sleeves, I became aware of the logos of the bands, many of which are from the 70s and 80s.  My tastes vary widely. (My favorite genre of music is power pop, which just nudges out punk for the lead.  Vive Le Knack!)  And I noticed the iconic logos bands had back then, and thought about how that's not really subscribed to these days.  I'm talking about the symbols of AC/DC, Foreigner, Boston, Led Zeppelin, April Wine, Ted Nugent's font, et al.  I'm sure the uniformity and consistency of usage helped with the sale of t-shirts, bumper stickers, baseball caps, and dare I say, thanks to the graphic prominence, even albums themselves.  Lord knows, the grocery bag textbook covers that I had in junior high and middle school became canvases for my attempts at replicating my favorite bands name logos.  More unsuccessful than not, I may add.  This shit ain't easy.

Many of the most recognizable and long-standing logos of a lot of these bands were designed by a man named Gerard Huerta.  His eye-catching and amazingly symmetrical work was incredible, all the more admirable due to the fact that these were done before the era of computer aided design and graphics tools.  A bit of internet search will show that his work has been seen by everyone whether they know it or not. He's designed product and company logos and other striking work that is commonplace.  He just doesn't get nearly enough credit.  I guess that's what I'm doing here.

His skill is incredible. In the 7th grade, my art teacher gave us an assignment to recreate an album cover with pencil, and then duplicate it up in size and paint it.  I picked Boston's debut album.  I won't say I'm ashamed of it, but it wasn't what I had hoped it would be upon completion. It gave me a case of the "Mehs".  The band logo alone was incredibly difficult to mimic to its specifications, let alone the rest of the art on that cover.  I gained serious respect for Mr. Huerta at that point, even if I didn't know his name yet.

As a chap that thinks band logos are just sweet in general, my favorite is the Blue Oyster Cult logo initially used for the cover of "On Your Feet or On Your Knees", which ironically is also a Gerard Huerta creation (and given tribute by the comedic fictional band, Spinal Tap).  It's a logo that is memorable and somehow looks fearsome at the same time, and I'd wear the shit out of a t-shirt with that alone on it if I could find one.

Anyways, Cheers, Mr. Huerta.  Your mark is definitely left all over the world, and if you don't receive the credit you deserve, I hope to be giving you a bit of that here. Thank you for your art, for your craft.  It's indelibly burned into the zeitgeists of decades of Americana.

For further looks at Mr. Huerta's work, check this out:  https://www.gerardhuerta.com/

 

I Could Have Written That: Part 2

5. "Crocodile Rock" "Bennie & The Jets"
Now I'm quite sure Elton John is a gifted songwriter, and I am willing to give credit to great talents, even if their material doesn't appeal to me. Prince, Slayer, and Muse all fit into the category of critically acclaimed and very talented artists that make me want to slam my head into a wall.  I have liked much of Reginald Dwight's material over they years, but the whining, grating choruses of these two songs make me bray them mockingly in a screeching tone at the unfair blood-soaked skies of the heavens above in exasperation and rage whenever I hear them. Not so much out of annoyance, but out of anger at the fact that these two tornado warnings of songs got not only recorded, but became hits.

4. "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
 Really?  This was popular?  And it became part of the lexicon. I don't even want to know why....

3. "The Harlem Shake"
This current craze is beyond annoying. It's stupefying.  It's not just the song, it's the abberant spasms it apparently causes it fans to break into. Including world-renowned basketball star Lebron James seen below. My youngest son and I were looking at this on a television at a local Pizza joint, both of us perplexed...."Is that guy dressed as Mario, Rob?", he asked quizzically...

"Yes, C.". I responded.  "Yes, he is...."

because I had nothing else to say....

Many songs, including the affore-mentioned "Gangnam Style" and "Cupid Shuffle", as irritating and unacceptable as they are, had some sort of an attempt at a dance....this just looks like a standing, lucid seizure....like Donald Sutherland at the end of 1978's "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", it just gives me the willies.  Or the Jeebs. Take your pick.

here it is.



 May God have mercy on our souls.

The last two are coming soon. I'm too exasperated by this at the moment, to finish.

Go Back To Vinyl. Jack Says So.

Below is a video from the man himself, Jack White III. Pay attention!!!

I Could Have Written That; Part One

Periodically, you'll hear that song on the radio, or being sang by one of your kids, that makes you cock your head, prick up your ears, and say: "Christ, man, what is that?!" (in my case, with an Irish accent, and a "feckin'' in there somewhere...) because it's a quandary beyond any other, how in God's name that song could get recorded, let alone be popular.


But it's a quasi-generational thing really, transcending space and time, down through the ages, into the quill-pen encrusted, foppish dandy-coated times, where I'm sure even Bill Shakespeare wandered down a filthy street, Shepherd's Pie in hand saying "Christ, man, what is that?!" (except in a hugely British brogue) to some down-on-his-luck minstrel trying his best to earn a buck through his talent or lack of it. (usually ignored through some "first two episodes of the season" "American Idol"-strength denial.)

So, with that in mind, here's a list of my Top 10 "How the Hell did that Happen?" songs.

10. The Offspring- "Get a Job". This song is an earsore if there ever was one. Annoying lyrics, Dexter's annoying whining voice, and a complete departure from their signature sound. Not that that's a bad thing, but where did this curveball come from?  Lyrically, I don't know who Dex & the Boys are trying to insult here, his friend with the girlfriend, or the girlfriend, or both. Either way, it's horrendous. Unacceptable.

9.  Musical Youth- "Pass the Dutchie". This one speaks for itself. You have a horrible hybrid of two mainstay reggae tunes, a blathering 12 year old vocalist whose lyrics are nearly unintelligible, and the original meaning now lifted. In a striking example of poetic justice, this abomination, which changed the drug reference of the original from pot to food, resulted in just giving the Weed Nation another nickname for their muse. Terrific. It's bad enough they have nothing else to talk about, they now have more ways to do it.

8.  The Bee Gees- "You Should Be Dancing".  Disco, just by the size of it's enormity, deserves to be chronicled as a page in music's history books, quality of the genre notwithstanding. However catchy some disco songs, even the ones done by the Gibb Machine, may be, some are unforgiveable.  "You Should be Dancing" is one of those songs. I could write another entire blog post about "Misheard Lyrics", but this one takes the cake. Barry's falsetto on this one so obscures the lyrics to "Whatcha doin' on your back?", that as a 6 year old, I thought he was saying "Stick it in your butt".  Case closed.

7.  PSY- "Gangnam Style".  Gangnam is an area south of the Han River in Seoul, Korea. Just over 500,000 citizens strong.  Apparently they have a community built on nerds boogieing down as well. Not to say it hasn't rung a bell with people, it's the first video to be viewed over a billion times on YouTube. "Gangnam Style" has become a calling card for it's era.  Move over Vanilla Ice, A-Ha, and David Naughton....here comes a little dude with glasses, crackin' Gangnam Style!!!

6.  Fine Young Cannibals "She Drives Me Crazy".  Now, earlier I have already mentioned my hatred of falsetto, and vocalist Roland Gift's usage of it is so unnecessary since tis song is already annoying. Plus, after seeing the video, I was stunned by Mr. Gift's striking similarity to actor Duane Jones. Hence, all I could visualize in my head was Ben in "Night of the Living Dead" getting gunned down by zombie hunters not realizing he was alive at the end of the movie. So the song annoys, then it depresses. A true double whammy.

 

New Wave not in the Grave

When most people look back at New Wave, it's "mope rock" terminology thrown in the air a lot. I tend to disagree with that sentiment. No question, there's a huge darkness element, but I love the vibe, the ethereal "feel" to it.....

Now most people throw in Joy Division, Bauhaus, and even get as arbitrary as OMD, Kraftwerk, or New Order, but there is an excellent second level.....

Don't leave out Dream Syndicate, and don't forget the New Model Army, these are fresh names you probably haven't thought of in the Cure's backyard. Take a swing in different directions outside of Adam & the Ants and Gary Numan.....

Because they're out there, ya know. Hiding behind Echo & the Bunnymen putting out albums entitled "Pop Said" and "Entertainment" , and calling themselves the English Beat and Gang of Four. Slamming us with songs like "Reuters" and "That's the Essence".....



They're hiding in the Shadows, like these guys, as relevant as ever.....
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Some Words in Cyberspace from "The Testament"

My words on Antonio's latest CD have popped under his internet home to order his real-life in the flesh, non download CD. Have a look-see.


Click "Read More" there at the bottom, kiddies.




Buy Yourself a physical disc while you're there.

You're welcome.

Take a look at them Again.

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No Second Fiddle

The Minneapolis post-punk explosion marked an onslaught of bands that could claim to be the voicebox of Midwestern Youth. Depending on your angle.
They all, somehow, were what "The Kids" could cling to. The kids with Patchouli on, hanging at record stores, patching skateboard injuries, finding a way to stick a Soul Asylum sticker on something, while walking the streets at night with headphones on, wondering if anything would ever feel like home again.
Someone out there, got it. Even if they were Viking or Twins fans with guitars.
No matter how you hash it out, it's no secret that the Replacements led the charge, for better or for worse. They somehow, despite a lack of political leanings, an inability to connect with their audience, and a degree in bridge burning, were the most popular band out of the Mosquito state.
As much as I love the 'Mats, Husker Du should play no second fiddle to anyone. Ever.
Raw guitars, plenty of hooks, a bevy of material, and partially acoustic sets should have had them right up there with Westerberg and the boys. The Replacements fell apart because they gave a crap too late. The Huskers had other reasons. Paul and the boys lasted for two major label LPs. (Do not make a mistake and count "All Shook Down" as one of them, it was Paul's first solo LP). Husker Du, also two, the melancholy "Candy Apple Grey" and "Warehouse"
They were just as good, and a recent retrospective look back showed that to me. I love, absolutely love "Flip Your Wig". Here's one of many reasons why:

Cheap Trick: Defining Perennial

I wrote a piece several years ago that remains unpublished, sort of one I prefer to "keep in the clip", as it were. I hate firearms and their analogies, but since I write from the hip, I'll leave it.

It's called "AC/DC at my side". Sort of a look back at how that Australian group of hooligans remained in my life and the public eye like a "rock and roll Forrest Gump".

I guess that could apply to Cheap Trick as well. Some will accuse them of being fluff, but that's awful short-sighted. They are worthy and deserving of much more than that for several reasons. Rick Nielsen, Tom Petersson, Bun E. Carlos, and Robin Zander popped up out of Rockford, Illinois, stepped in the Leprechaun's pot o' gold, and became one of the biggest bands in the world (a couple of times) and did it almost accidentally and in the most odd way.

One of their biggest hits came off of their fourth LP, (which was live, no less) containing an odd track introduction, "This is the first song off of our new album, it just came out this week, and it's called 'Surrender'", which indicates that this album, "At Budokan", was released not long after a studio LP. Odder still they bucked the trend of 70's Double Live LP, making "Budokan" a single platter, with the opener and closer, "Hello There" and "Goodnight" mirroring each other save for the interchangeable title lyrics. An obvious waste of album space in my eyes, as the entire concert, available now, had scads of material that could have been utilized.

Odd, indeed.

But I get away from myself here.
Right now, people steadily join the cult of the Replacements, following them to Big Star, and the death of Alex Chilton has also raised awareness. Truly, the historical kings of  American Power Pop are that Tennessee foursome, but Cheap Trick was right there with their melodies, scorching guitar work, and charismatic members. The latter of these being very visually obvious.

The band has had their ups and downs, from the short-lived Jon Brant era, to the decline of the early to mid 80's, to the huge upswing of the end of that decade, and another pitfall before hitting the public eye again with the theme from "That 70's Show". (Oddly co-written by Alex Chilton himself).
There's a lot of "70's" (unfair term for them, that) bands wandering the County Fair Classic Rock Circuit, but Cheap Trick are among the few that hold that original framework together, and continue to bring out fresh, pertinent material to this day.

 I just wanted to make that clear, I'm not looking back at them here, although I did use the past to push the button on the flashlight that I am now directing on them today. The Trick within the last handful of years, while touring extensively, has released a full album of new material and recorded their take on "Sgt. Pepper" in it's entirety.

Hard work, this rocking. And they could teach today's youngsters a few lessons. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Especially Cheap ones.

Long live Cheap Trick.
....and with that, here's what's what:

Where have you gone, Joe Strummer?

I recently watched "Grosse Point Blank" and forgot that Joe Strummer had done the score.

He was the lead vocalist and left handed rythym guitarist for the Clash, and yes he played right handed. My fingers hurt just thinking about it.
Digressing rapidly, he was a gifted musician, writer, and social activist.
He died way too young.

I know Havana 3AM is Paul Simonon's band, but that's not the point. I recently re-discovered this track that burned hard and bright for a short period of time, and it made me think of Joe.

"Earthquake Weather" aside, Mescaleros aside, and hell, even Mick Jones' bizarre Big Audio Dynamite aside, and these mentioned Havana guys aside too...

I miss them.
I miss Joe.

The Devil is in the Details

Antonio Estevan Huerta's last album, "Your Shrine" was a sweeping amalgam of feel and energy. I know because I declared it as such right here on "Last Will".

I can't describe how refreshing it was to feel such emotion packed into so many songs no matter the tempo.

On "Your Shrine" AEH wore his heart on his sleeves.

On his latest, the upcoming platter "The Devil You Know", he's rolling them up.

Methinks Huerta has emotion to spare, so make no mistake, everything he does will contain a lot of it. But "Devil" also has edge, and in spades.

It's darker, it's a bit leaner, and a lot tougher.

Not many recording artists have the ability to bare their souls and do it with a ton of hooks. Just look as far back as Roger Waters and as recently as Paul Westerberg. Soul spilling isn't easy when you want to be catchy too. It's tough. Huerta does it well, and does it often.

You can smell influences here, but Antonio is himself musically, and lyrically, he's a poet.

"Motorcycle", the excellent opener, reminds me vaguely of The Cure at the outset, before revving up (pun intended) into some very angry and disarming (but not remotely wrong as the record unspools) imagery and message sending.

"IT'S NOT AS THOUGH YOU KNOW"--Does anyone?

The devil doesn't either as he's being spoken to on "Her Stars (The Devil Song)", a banging second track. Written on travelling wheels from Prague (during a marathon), to Iceland, back to Paris, it eventually became concrete in Brooklyn. "Her Stars" is obviously a manifesto...the devil can take a lot from you, but the heart is everlasting and possessive. Even Satan can't take what really belongs to you inside. (Huerta's lyrics can be personal on many levels, and vague enough to interpret as your own. I love to think of the content of this song as my own.)

The devil is a bit of a theme on this record, and Huerta is not a stranger to thematic elements. From rats and their tracks, to pigeons and paradise, to the morningstar himself, Huerta likes underlaying a string through his lyrics. In an upcoming interview I will ask Antonio about his thematic lyrical nature, because, frankly, "I Gots To Know".

Huerta's voice, which has always been good, is a flowing, reaching, and comfortable swimmer on this album. His band is strong and confident, a machine let loose to pound this material out efficiently and with extreme prejudice. Guitar and bass, both raw and achingly gentle, drums that flash just enough, are here and not to be forgotten or messed with.

"Scribble" and "You Can Be a Part of This" are emotion-laden mid-tempo rockers extending out to say something important and they succeed with a flourish. "You Can" is downright gripping. I listened to "Devil" in my car almost exclusively in and around Dallas, Texas, and that track especially will bring attention to all your surroundings. It could easily and successfully fit on any great classic rock album, but does not feel out of place one bit today.

"Esto Que Hacemos" is a gorgeous ballad sung entirely in Spanish, that is both hypnotic, relaxing, and very melancholy.....shades of "Shrine's" "Horses", but with more intensity...

"The Devil You Know", the title track, is easily the catchiest cut on the record, and will stick in your head for days, so prepare yourself for that. It's a good thing.

"Let it Go" and "Go Home" are nice finishers to a very strong, but suprisingly dark album from Antonio Estevan Huerta. He's been a sharp songwriter with or without collaboration, and a fine lyricist always, but you get the feeling on the third try, he's been set loose here....

Antonio has raised Cain with "The Devil You Know".

The hooks and the choruses are there, as you'd expect from him, but this time there's something, perhaps a New Jersey "Darkness on the Edge of Town" lying under the surface, waiting to be let out. Demons being shaken off his back, or perhaps a "Devil".

While You Can

Dedicated to the person who has seen someone in a painful relationship, and had to watch.....

Halloween: The Horrors