FIZZY’S CLOSET
Episode 2
Well, Fizzers and Fizzettes, it has been almost two months since our last trip into the Closet. I kept meaning to do this sooner, but I misplaced the key to the Closet. I finally found the goddamn thing in one of Madame Tizzy’s slippers. So without further ado, let’s us dive on in and see what musical delights we can find.
BANG TANGO: Psycho Café; 1989 (MCA)
Rating: 8.0
Requested by Totem
At some point in our lives, we’ve all paused as we’ve gone about our business and wondered, “What would Guns n’ Roses have sounded like if Flea was their bassist?” Okay, I’ve never asked myself that either, but it seemed like a good intro. Because that’s a pretty good way to describe Bang Tango’s sound on this, their debut album. What we have is a fiery concoction: one part Chili Peppers funk (in the bass and some of the rhythm guitarwork; no rapping here), three parts hell-raising GnR swagger, and one part whiskey-guzzling Looziana blues. Production is excellent, not slick at all, but professional. Both the rhythm and lead guitars are crisp and clear, the former with an aggressive snarl, and every note audible in the latter. Kyle Stevens and Mark Knight give Slash and Izzy a run for their money on almost every song. The bass of Kyle Kyle (imagine, two guys named Kyle in one band, in ’89!) is very prominent, which is good, because this guy is a monster on the bass. He slaps, he rumbles, he swings! This was quite a novelty in a hard-rock band at the time, where most bassists not only droned along mimicking the guitarist, but were also inaudible anyway. Drummer Tigg Ketler is creative, but never overplays, and is rewarded with an opportunity to shine at the beginning of the otherwise unspectacular “Sweet Little Razor.”
In fact, the only area in which Bang Tango is less than stellar is the vocal departmemt, consisting of future Beautiful Creature and general Sunset Strip loiterer Joe LeSte. In fact, it is Mr. LeSte’s shrieking that caused me to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I first bought this tape, back in 1990. It sunk in that I had just blown $9.99, and that was not only a lot of money when you’re not quite ten, but also I’d never paid that much for a tape before. I bought it for the MTV hit “Someone Like You,” which I had devoured the year before, and for a long time after the fateful purchase, that was one of only two songs I listened to off of Psycho Café, the other being the follow-up single “Breaking Up a Heart of Stone.” But after a few years, I finally got over it, and realized what a gem this album is. Bang Tango could’ve been huge, were it not for their not-entirely-undeserved reputation as GnR III (L.A. Guns was GnR Jr.), and Joe’s “unique” approach to singing. TO be fair, his vocals really aren’t that much different than Axl’s, just more over-the-top, and he can scream even louder. And really, I can’t imagine anybody else singing these songs.
The record opens with, what else? a bassline, before suddenly crashing into “Attack of Life,” with its slow, grinding riff and howled lyrics advising the listener, “Don’t cry, just do it!” Basically, it’s a song about getting off your ass and doing whatever it is you have to do. Nice background bellowing in the chorus. I used to love to start my college radio show off with this song. “Bringin’ on the attack of life, bringin’ on the night--WITH LOVE!”
Next comes the band’s big hit “Someone Like You.” This one was a regular on Dial-MTV (the precursor to the odious TRL) throughout the entire summer of ’89, and on into the fall. Listen close to the twin-guitar intro. Both guitars are playing the same thing, but one is a half-second behind the other, and it still works. Even Joe’s weird growling verses are cool, but not as cool as the solos slathered all over the second half of the song. This one’s still a highlight of the album.
After that, we get the shuffling blues of “Wrap My Wings.” Joe’s singing, frankly, sucks in the soft verses, but his screeched “I’m back!” is infectious. “Breaking Up a Heart of Stone” follows with another tooling bassline, more great leadwork, and more bad verse-singing. The riff is built more on hovering guitar notes than on chords, with memorable results. I hear these licks in my head with absolutely no prompting. They just pop up on me. Just wish I knew what the chick mumbles before the song takes off. Stick around for some neat guitar effects at song’s end too. Closing the first half is the trigger-happy funk of “Shotgun Man.” Violent lyrics about shooting people just for the sheer hell of it. One of the top cringe-or-laugh moments on the album comes with Joe’s scream “It’s a li-yi-yi-yi-yie, good God!” First time I heard it, I was so repulsed I just HAD to rewind to hear it again.
The second half of the album isn’t quite as good, but has its moments. The funky “Love Injection,” with its jazz-influenced guitar and bass-slapping, was one of the band’s staples, and is one of the few songs here where Joe doesn’t employ The Shriek at all. “Do What You’re Told” is the other late-album hot spot, with, surprise! Another killer bassline, more just-do-it lyrics and another catchy chorus. Two mediocre tracks are the boogieing “Don’t Stop Now,” and the closer “Sweet Little Razor,” which features as it’s only bright spot, an awesome jungle-sounding drum intro. The only real stinker on the album is the ballad, “Just for You.” Joe’s largely failed attempts at melodic singing ruin the pretty twelve-string playing they’re laid over.
I’m glad I didn’t throw this tape out, or trade it, or tape over it like I sometimes thought to do in the first weeks after buying it, because once I took the time to listen, I found there’s plenty to like about Psycho Café. The big drawback is still the vocals, but even they can be intriguing. LeSte sometimes sounds almost inhuman when he rolls out The Shriek. He mellowed with time, however, and his singing on the Beautiful Creatures CD is much more toned-down.
Bang Tango released two more studio albums (1991’s Dancin’ On Coals and 1994’s Love After Death) before calling it quits. Kyle Kyle went on to form the Newlydeads, an industrial-goth-metal band with Taime Downe of Faster Pussycat. Joe knocked around the Strip for a few years before getting the Creatures together, which was easy enough. It’s just keeping them together that’s hard. Bang Tango has reunited intermittently since ’98, when they participated in the Hard Tour with Enuff Z’Nuff, Pretty Boy Floyd and the BulletBoys. BT still does some shows, but if I’m not mistaken Joe is the only original member remaining.
Best songs: “Attack of Life,” “Someone Like You”
Worst song: “Just For You”
Megadeth: Peace Sells ……… But Who’s Buying?; 1986, Capitol
Rating: 7.5
Requested by Rippenterror
As everybody knows, Megadeth were one of the Big Four thrash bands, along with Metallica, Anthrax and Slayer. Some would say Megadeth were doomed to a lifetime of playing second fiddle to Metallica, Dave Mustaine’s former band, and they might well be right, given some of Megadeth’s actions in the ’90’s (cutting their hair, recording a couple records that could arguably fall into the sellout category, etc.) In 1986 though, they were still lean and hungry, and Mustaine had a major hard-on to show the guys in Metallica what they were missing by having fired him. Peace Sells ……… But Who’s Buying was the band’s major-label debut, after 1985’s horribly-produced Killing Is my Business ……… And Business Is Good.
Disc opener “Wake Up Dead” isn’t exactly a SONG, but more like a collection of riffs and solos, with eerie spoken-word lyrics about marital infidelity and murder. It’s not at all bad to listen to, but it just doesn’t stick with me.
Never fear though, because after this come four absolute killers. “The Conjuring” is one of Megadeth’s most underrated songs. It has the classic speed-riffing, the head-banging rhythms and the trademark classical solos of Chris Poland. Not to mention the jazz-influenced drumming of the late Gar Samuelson.
By now, everybody has heard the album’s title track, if only for it’s bass riff, one of the most easily-recognized in all of metal. The opening two seconds of the song were actually featured for years in the outro of MTV’s hourly news report. Remember “MTV News. YOU hear it [insert bassline] first!” Sure you do! The rest of the song is equally memorable, and not too fast, at least not until the end. Great snide Mustaine lyrics. “What do you MEAN I can’t pay my bills? Why do you think I’m BROKE, huh? What do you MEAN I ain’t kind? I’m just not YOUR kind!” Great pick-up halfway through.
Another overlooked treasure is “Devils Island,” with its almost Maiden-like galloping chug and shout-along chorus. It is followed by what many say is the album’s finest song, if not the best in the band’s entire repertory. “Good Mourning” is a dark, slow instrumental intro that builds ever-so-slowly, with guitar lines from Mustane and Poland that wind around and in and out of each other, before the song explodes into “Black Friday,” a graphic and head-spinningly fast tale of a homicidal maniac on the loose. Best line: “The remains of flesh now sop under my feet, one more bloody massacre, the murder’s now complete.” Yum yum! Pass the pork rinds! This is one of Megadeth’s absolute fastest songs, particularly near the end. You could seriously bruise your brain trying to headbang along.
Speaking of pork rinds, if you’d like a snack, now would be the time to go get one, because the next two songs aren’t that great. “Bad Omen” is okay, I suppose, just very boring, and “I Ain’t Superstitious” is an ill-advised Willie Dixon cover. I dunno, thrash bands doing blues covers doesn’t sound like a winning combination to me. Especially not when it’s early Megadeth, who were all about speed and aggression.
Don’t take the disc out just yet though, because the last track is yet another treat, like a sandwich you forget you have in the fridge, and it’s still good to eat. “My Last Words” features another slow-boiling intro and deadpan lyrics about the joys of Russian roulette. This one doesn’t really get going until the second half, but when it does, look out!
This album, along with most of the rest of the Megadeth catalog, is going to be reissued on July 27th, remastered and with bonus material. I got my copy used, along with three other Megadeth titles and a bunch of others, from a guy who needed the money to get his car fixed. He got my name from WVYC, the campus radio station and just called me up one day. (Thanks, Beef!) Did I ever think I hit the jackpot or what! That was the week I lost my virginity and smoked weed for the first (and last) time, and all those CD’s on top of it all! Anyway, I would be interested in hearing the remastered version, because Peace Sells has a few production issues that I’m not too fond of. The lead guitar has a weak, tinny tone. The rhythm guitar has that flat, buzzing quality that a few thrash albums of the time had, and these two issues can take away from the intricate playing that’s actually going on. Also, at times Gar Samuelson’s drum sound is a little like somebody beating on a metal file cabinet. But even with all that, this is still a damn fine release, and an important one in thrash history.
Best songs: “Peace Sells,” “Good Mourning/Black Friday”
Worst song: “I Ain’t Superstitious”
The Four Horsemen: Nobody Said It Was Easy; 1991 (American)
Rating: 9.0
Hey kids, here’s a band you won’t ever read about in the magazines when they talk about ace producer Rick Rubin of Slayer, Beastie Boys, AC/DC and Johnny Cash fame. What a pity too, but the Four Horsemen were well used to dealing with adversity and unrecognition. Hell, that’s why they named their debut album Nobody Said It Was Easy, after all.
The band was formed by one Stephen Harris, who went under the name Kid Chaos in the British underground heroes Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction. After leaving that band, he changed his stage-name to Haggis and played with the Cult for a while, and then struck out on his own after an unfortunate incident on the Joan Rivers Show. He recruited another guitarist, Dave Lizmi, along with bassist Ben Page and drummer Ken “Dimwit” Montgomery (who, true to his nickname, died of a heroin overdose some years later). The final piece was Frank C. (Cassimassina) Starr, who had bounced around the L.A. and NYC scenes for a decade. The making of their first album was delayed when Frank served six months for a drug charge. Then, after the album was out, Frank got busted again and did another year in the slammer, effectively killing any momentum the band may have had, and so they disbanded. And then got back together. And then Dimwit died. And then Frank was struck by a drunk driver while riding his motorcycle one day in November of 1995, just as the Four Horsemen (with Dimwit’s brother Chuck Biscuits of Danzig fame on drums) were finishing their second album. Frank remained in a coma for almost four years. Meanwhile, the album was released under the title Getting’ Pretty Good ……… At Barely Gettin’ By. The band toured, with Ron Young of Little Caesar on vocals, as a tribute to Frank, but it just wasn’t the same, and they soon disbanded for the final time. Frank died in June of ’99.
Whew! And I haven’t even talked about the goddamn record yet!
“Feels like ’75 again!” Frank shrills at one point. Now let’s think about that. 1975. What were the two most popular forms of rock back then? Bare-bones hard rock a la the emerging AC/DC and Ted Nugent, and southern rock, then being popularized by Lynyrd Skynyrd, Black Oak Arkansas, and others. Lots of bands try it, but few really make it work: that seamless fusion of southern rock and heavy metal. The Four Horsemen were perhaps the most successful at this delicate mix. Nobody Said It Was Easy mixes the southern melodies of Skynyrd, with the loud-as-hell hard-rock riffs of AC/DC and their countless imitators, and blends it all with the badass attitude of Motorhead. I have seen numerous bands compared to those three bands, from Junkyard to Nashville Pussy, and yet none seem to really embody all three the way the Four Horsemen do on this very record. You get your high-speed burners (“Lookin’ for Trouble,” “Can’t Stop Rockin’”), your AC/DC-style bar boogie numbers (“Let It Rock,” “Rockin’ Is Ma’ Business”) and a couple of almost country tracks (“Homesick Blues,” “I Need a Thrill”).
The title track is first,and sounds rather out-of-place in the opening slot, as it’s one of the less energetic rockers here. Not a bad song, but maybe misplaced. Things pick up though with the band’s signature song, “Rockin’ Is Ma’ Business.” With a riff that may or may not have been lifted from AC/DC’s “Down Payment Blues,” this one demands to be played loud as you cruise through town looking for action. An amusing interlude before the solo has Frank singing the chorus, “Rockin’ is ma’ business, and business is good!” and then muttering “Yeah, if it’s so good, why’m I still fuckin’ broke?!” Maybe because you blew your money on dope, Frank. Never mind! Our goal in the Fizzbunker is not to preach.
“Tired Wings” is said to have gotten some MTV play, but I’m damned if I remember it. This is the one weak track on the album, a midtempo attempt at Skynyrdology that demonstrates Frank’s somewhat limited vocal ability. Throughout the record, he sounds somewhat like Cinderella’s Tom Kiefer, but more shrill in his yowl, and not as smooth in his normal tone.
Elsewhere, we have the brooding “Wanted Man,” complete with tasteful handclaps and and bluesy riffs, while Frank, in a low mewl, rattles off a Rand McNally of places he’s wanted in. It’s followed by the top highlight, “Let It Rock,” with its simple A-chord riff and screeched vocals. Just when you think it’s about over, the song lurches into a crazed, double-time boogie for another two minutes until it reaches a screaming finale. Music to ride your motorcycle to the nearest bar and start a brawl by!
Later on, we get “Moonshine.” I wonder if any of these guys have ever sampled real moonshine, but regardless, it somehow wouldn’t feel complete not to have a song about it here. This is kind of a strange song, because the vocals sound as though they were piped in over a telephone line, or off an answering machine tape or something. Maybe Frank was using his one phone call from jail to lay down the vocals. There are also numerous sound effects, like sirens and a helicopter. Must be them damn revenooers again.
The other top spot is “Homesick Blues,” which is almost pure country, just louder. Notice the sweet leadwork too, accenting the verses and especially the brief but very tasty solo. You’ll be hooked on this song instantly, and be chanting the “Knowin’ where I belong” chorus halfway through.
Two more headlong, high-octane hard-chargers are up next. “Feels like ’75 again!” Sounds like it too, Frank! “Lookin’ for a piece of ass, lookin’ for a cheeseburger,” he informs us on “Lookin’ for Trouble,” yet another song fit for damaging property to. Great snarling guitar tone here.
And of course we need an epic to close out the disc, right? Riiiight! And here we have it, in the form of “I Need a Thrill/Somethin’ Good.” The first half is a jangly strummer about missing somebody you know you shouldn’t be missing. Another insanely catchy chorus you can just picture being sung at every impromptu jam. Midway through the track, the volume increases, and we’re subjected to the plodding blues noise of “Somethin’ Good.” Personally, I would’ve liked “Thrill” to have been developed more, rather than cut short for this racket. I guess it’s not intolerable, but just inferior to the first half of the track. And it gets louder and louder until it finally stops abruptly, and the album ends with a few seconds of what sounds like a vinyl record crackling and popping. Yes, back before that became the trendy sound to splice in.
All in all, this is one hell of an album, with many different textures and flavors to it. To say it’s an AC/DC or Skynyrd mix really isn’t fair to the music, because it’s more diverse than that. And even the shortcomings of the band members, particularly Frank’s rough voice, can’t detract from the feeling and power of the songs altogether. Equally great for partying with the gang or for solitary rambling. It’s the album you (or perhaps your neighbors) hear blasting at top volume at that party next door, or stuck in traffic on a hot day, or in the background at a barbecue.
Best songs: “Let It Rock,” “Homesick Blues”
Worst song: “Tired Wings”
