The Black Halos Worship at the Dead Boys' Shrine; Are the Bigger Lovers the Best Philly Pop Band Since the Nazz?
The Black Halos absolutely worship at the shrine of the immortal Dead Boys. At first I didn't like them for this, because the Dead Boys are a readily applicable influence these days (ever heard Electric Frankenstein?) and it seemed like a retro revival act. But then I figured, so what? As the current state of music gets staler and more predictable, more bands find themselves turning to the resources of the past for their musical inspiration. Consequently, at this point, just about every band from rock's first two or three decades has spawned its own school of followers. Where once upon a time it could be said that the Ramones were clearly influenced somewhere down the line by Black Sabbath or that Black Flag was clearly influenced by the Ramones, now the influence isn't merely absorbed into the framework of the music itself, it's worn as a badge of honor. It's all retro-something, and I guess it's okay, because as the kind of rock that a band like the Black Halos ply gets harder to find, the bands who're still purveying it are ultimately gonna draw comparisons to the bands who unabashedly served up the goop the first time around. In the case of the boys who make up the Black Halos it was obviously Stiv Bators and Company who steered them down the punk path.
So don't call The Violent Years an outright ape-job like some kind of Pukes of the Stratosphere/Beatlemania crap. At this point in time this album is a valuable resource. Like other short-lived greats like the Dolls or Dictators, the Dead Boys didn't actually leave a lot behind. So think of this as that third album the Dead Boys never made. That's not too far-fetched; Felix Pappalardi produced the actual last Dead Boys' album and he was in Mountain, which was one of those bands that predated the swamp-rock culture of the Pacific Northwest grunge movement. So who ends up producing this album? Jack Endino, god-fuckin'-father of grunge. As the Dolls said: "Everything connects."
"Last of the One Percenters" is a classic divebomb of Dead Boys punk spirit and sentiment. "Lost in the 90's" is a snarling but melodic tune, kind of surfin' the same turf as the excellent Yo-Yo's album that came out on Sub Pop last year?the kind of tune that makes you ache inside because you realize how common such anthemic reaffirmations of life used to be, and how rare they are now. "Underground" takes it a step further by declaring "the underground ain't underground no more," complete with handclaps and the same snarling venom as vintage Dead Boys or Heartbreakers. "50 Bourbon Street" stakes out the same ground as Stiv's great-lost solo album Disconnected or Sonic's Rendezvous Band.
There are a lot of guitars on this album that go RK-DK-DK, and the band, who are all excellent, wear a lot of mascara and fall off the stage and act as if Please Kill Me is their bible. Which I guess is appropriate with the 25th anniversary issue of Punk currently on the stands and old geezers everywhere coming home to reclaim their territory. In that case, the Black Halos, in the final crusading moments of this LP, have perhaps the perfect tribute to such crusty endeavors: "No Class Reunion."
Joe S. Harrington
Nothing wrong with that; it just shows that their "pop" is slightly balanced by some genuine psychosexual quirks. Then again, their namesakes the Modern Lovers were no slouches in that department either, and what else can one really think about a band whose very name evokes sexual insecurity? (If they're truly the "bigger lovers" then what are they worried about?) "Steady on Threes" has some nice pedal steel guitar bringing to mind Boston's excellent Buttercup (for the most obvious comparison). "Threadbare" is a pretty good stomp of the Velvet Crush quality, but would those guys ever sing, "You'll leave me threadbare"? It's questionable. On Buttercup's "On the Ground" they admit, "I want to look in your eyes after you have beaten everyone," so maybe there's some symbiosis between the two groups after all. Other than that, I think this is the best Olivia Tremor Control album since Dusk at Cubist Castle. They put a picture of their cat, Shooter, on the inner sleeve, for cat fans.
Another new album by an American rock band in this day and age of new albums by American rock bands is Honky's House of Good Tires. This trio apparently formed around the nucleus of ex-Butthole Surfer bass player Jeff Pinkus down in Texas about five years ago. This is their third album and it's a grinding classic, the same kind of redneck/stoner boogie as Nashville Pussy, only more heavy metal. As with Nashville Pussy, the list of influences that can be detected here could easily fill a page?everything from ZZ Top ("House of Seven") to the Buttholes ("Your Bottom's at the Top of My List") to Van Halen ("The Pleaser"). Never do they let up on the heavy guitar dynamics or the aggressive attitude, which would almost seem an antidote to the realm of sexual ambiguity pursued by the more pop-oriented Bigger Lovers. Chances are these guys wouldn't look too kindly on that sort of thing; still, their macho posturing can get a little hackneyed as well. But, like Nashville Pussy, it's hard to take them seriously, and that's the saving grace of a song like "I Might Just Shoot Somebody." Though I don't think the Lovers are actually serious about all their weird peccadilloes either.
As for redneck rock, it seems to be alive and well?I attended a show last night in the town where I live and several of the attendees wore cowboy hats?and believe me, I live nowhere near the South. That's indicative of something?just like the little dress-up bikers written about in New York Press recently, there seems to be some fascination on the part of hipsters in masquerading as white trash. Who would've guessed that Jerry Springer would be the Warhol of the New Millennium?
Joe S. Harrington