Archive for the 'Punk' Category

30
Sep
10

Rock ‘n’ Roll Ta-Tas and Naughty Bits

Ripe Melons and the Jimi Hendrix Experience

Blondie's Coked-Up Gash Flash


13
Feb
10

Dead Kennedys – “California Über Alles” (Live – 1979)

I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles
And never frowns
Soon I will be president…

Carter Power will soon go away
I will be Fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Your kids will meditate in school!

[Chorus:]
California Uber Alles
California Uber Alles
Uber Alles California
Uber Alles California

Zen fascists will control you
100% natural
You will jog for the master race
And always wear the happy face

Close your eyes, can’t happen here
Big Bro’ on white horse is near
The hippies won’t come back you say
Mellow out or you will pay
Mellow out or you will pay!

[Chorus]

Now it is 1984
Knock-knock at your front door
It’s the suede/denim secret police
They have come for your uncool niece

Come quietly to the camp
You’d look nice as a drawstring lamp
Don’t you worry, it’s only a shower
For your clothes here’s a pretty flower.

DIE on organic poison gas
Serpent’s egg’s already hatched
You will croak, you little clown
When you mess with President Brown
When you mess with President Brown

20
Nov
09

GG ALLIN 1991 Extra Filthy Bloody Edition “Throbblehead” Doll


Ma, I found out what I want for Christmas. The company Aggronautix has ushered the infamous GG Allin into bobblehead-dom. The violent, self-destructive, turd-munching punk rocker’s memory will be celebrated on dashboards across the land, and just in time for the holidays.

This “Extra Filthy Bloody” Edition a striking representation of GG ALLIN circa 1991 with added crud, blood, and cuts. The figure, limited to 500 numbered units, stands at 7 inches tall and is made of a lightweight polyresin. Loaded into a full color “splatter” box, here GG is accurately sculpted right down to the tattoos, and copious amounts of blood and filth.

GG died from a heroin overdose in 1993 (last concert and final hours documented here). His legion of adoring fans will never forget his soaring punk anthems advocating self-liberation and other less than desirable activities. Whether he was rogering himself with a microphone, throwing his toxic stool on audience members, or going to prison for rape and torture, GG did it with style. Celebrate his legacy with your very own GG Allin throbblehead doll.

Here are a few of GG’s more memorable song titles:

  • Eat My Diahrrea
  • Sleeping in My Piss on a Monday night
  • Suck My Ass It Smells
  • Cunt Sucking Cannibal
  • Scars on My Body – Scabs on My Dick

If I wasn’t a musician, I would be a serial killer – GG Allin

See related post – GG Allin: A Rock and Roll Suicide


05
Feb
09

R.I.P. Lux Interior

From RollingStone.com:

Lux Interior, the frontman for iconic punk band The Cramps, died today, February 4th, at the Glendale Memorial Hospital in Glendale, California. Interior, born Erick Lee Purkhiser, was 60 and is survived by his wife of 37 years, Cramps guitarist Kristy “Poison Ivy Rorschach” Wallace. In a statement released by the band’s publicist, a preexisting heart condition is named as the cause of death.

The Cramps were credited with creating both the term and musical style “psychobilly,” a synthesis of punk rock and rockabilly that was gloriously raw and over the top. Their lyrics examined American culture at its most campy, often citing bad jokes, science fiction films, and sexual fetishes.

Kurt Loder wrote, “This is rock & roll the way it never really was on the radio, but the way you always dreamed it could be — drooling horrorama lyrics, great cheesoid guitar riffs, postlobotomy drum-bashing and a singer for whom inhibition is the dirtiest ten-letter word of all. Slurp it up, sleaze fans.”

Rock’n’roll is so great that everyone in the world should think it’s the greatest thing that’s happening. If they don’t, they’re turds ~ Lux Interior

21
Jan
09

Dead Kennedys – Kill The Poor

The opening track to Dead Kennedys‘ debut album Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, taking as its starting point the then-new neutron bomb, designed to kill people but leave their valuables intact, “Kill the Poor” defined what the band was all about. To sum it up punk-inspired energy and arrangements, but a smart sense of pop hooks and a rampaging, not-to-be-held back slam against political and social business as usual on as many levels as possible. Biafra‘s conflation of liberal complacency, conservative aggression, and societal ignorance is both pithy and memorably sung in his breathy, nervous way. (source)

Live in Finland 1981 (incomplete)

Efficiency and progress is ours once more
Now that we have the neutron bomb
Its nice and quick and clean and gets things done
Away with excess enemy
But no less value to property
No sense in war but perfect sense at home

The sun beams down on a brand new day
No more welfare tax to pay
Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light
Jobless millions whisked away
At last we have more room to play
All systems go to kill the poor tonight

Gonna
Kill kill kill kill kill the poor tonight

Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rates gone
Feel free again
O lifes a dream with you, miss lily white
Jane fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals its okay
So lets get dressed and dance away the night

While they
Kill kill kill kill kill the poor tonight

01
Dec
08

Oh Bondage Up Yours! – X-Ray Spex

Some people think little girls
Should be seen and not heard
But I think, Oh Bondage, Up Yours!
One, Two, Three, Four

Bind me tie me
Chain me to the wall
I wanna be a slave
To you all
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Chain-store chain-smoke
I consume you all
Chain-gang chain-mail
I don’t think at all
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Thrash me crash me
Beat me till I fall
I wanna be a victim
For you all
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Bind me tie me
Chain me to the wall
I wanna be a slave
To you all
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

Bind me tie me
Chain me to the wall
I wanna be a slave
To you all
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more
Oh bondage up yours
Oh bondage no more

08
Sep
08

Homicide

A wonderful long-lost forgotten ditty by the U.K. punk band 999.

I believe in Homicide
I rest my case don’t cast aside
You better believe it
That’s the truth of it
Take it or leave it
Resign to it
Homicide Homicide
Homicide Homicide

No one cared
When someone lied
They’d rather say
That it’s irrelevant
You better believe it
That’s the truth of it
Take it or leave it
Resign to it

Homicide Homicide
Homicide Homicide

You tried to tell me it’s his fault because he’s down
And letting loose this Homicide all over the town
I’ll take your number I’ll write it down
What’s your address I’ll write it down
I’ll be in touch so don’t leave town in a big black car

Homicide Homicide
Homicide Homicide
Homicide Homicide
Homicide Homicide

25
Jul
08

Velvet Underground – I’m Waiting for the Man

THE VELVET UNDERGROUND

Plenty of laudatory ink has dried on the page detailing the Velvet Underground’s far-reaching influence on dozens of bands and their faithful devotees. The Warhol Factory-spawned bastard godfathers of punk violently redefined the sleepy-eyed mid-60s rock n’ roll landscape.

Lou Reed penned anthems that plumbed the depths of NYC depravity. The junkies, the fairies, and the tranny street hustlers were central characters in Velvet Underground’s blight-ridden narratives. More than a few well-adjusted middle-class teenagers got their initiation into the world of S&M with VU lyrics describing “shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather” and the “whiplash girl-child in the dark.”

I’m Waiting for the Man is choice track that details the adventures of a White junkie attempting to procure a $26 bag of smack in Harlem. After being accosted by neighborhood residents for chasing the dark-skinned ladies, the “big straw hat” wearing narcotics provider strolls up to deliver the protagonist his liberation powder. Reed’s vocal delivery bounces between panic-stricken urgency and bag-in-hand elation. The frenetic musical accompaniment intensifies the feeling of lurking danger during the uptown score.

While in NYC a few years back, I made a musical pilgrimage to the Man’s designated black-market intersection (Lexington Avenue and 125th Street). Instead of taking the taxi to LGA, I jumped on the A Train up to Harlem. Sadly, there was an Old Navy staring at me as I emerged from the subway. The landscape has changed considerably, but I am sure there is plenty of horse changing hands in El Barrio.

I’m waiting for my man
Twenty-six dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I’m waiting for my man

Hey, white boy, what you doin’ uptown?
Hey, white boy, you chasin’ our women around?
Oh pardon me sir, it’s the furthest from my mind
I’m just lookin’ for a dear, dear friend of mine
I’m waiting for my man

Here he comes, he’s all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He’s never early, he’s always late
First thing you learn is you always gotta wait
I’m waiting for my man

Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody’s pinned you, but nobody cares
He’s got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah then you gotta split because you got no time to waste
I’m waiting for my man

Baby don’t you holler, darlin’ don’t you bawl and shout
I’m feeling good, you know I’m gonna work it on out
I’m feeling good, I’m feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that’s just some other time
I’m waiting for my man

I’d harbored the hope that the intelligence that once inhabited novels and films would ingest rock. I was, perhaps, wrong ~ Lou Reed

20
May
08

GG Allin: A Rock and Roll Suicide

Notice: This post ain’t for everyone, women and kids in particular.

I thought that I had seen, heard, and experienced a lot of shit until I read about the life of GG Allin. Suffice it to say, there a lot of weird muthafuckas walkin’ this planet – GG Allin was definitely one of them. This man made Iggy Pop, Sid Vicious, and Marilyn Manson look like neutered angelic Vienna Choir Boys on a pastoral Sunday picnic in comparison.

I have excerpted some of the most salacious details of this individual’s life, career, and death. I harbor only feelings of pity for this poor soul who was destined for self-annihilation from the word go. Nevertheless, his life broadcasted a meaningful life lesson – Do not try this shit at home!

From GG Allin’s Wikipedia entry:

Allin is best remembered for his notorious live performances that typically featured wildly transgressive acts such as Allin defecating and urinating on stage, rolling in feces and often consuming excrement (coprophagia), committing self-injury, performing naked, taunting people to perform fellatio on him, and committing violent actions toward the audience—often doing many of these things more or less simultaneously.

Allin was a heroin user, alcoholic, and general abuser of any intoxicants provided to him. He was poorly groomed and rarely cleaned himself. Allin ate laxatives before performances – as defecation, including drinking and eating it, was becoming a regular stage act for him. Allin described himself as “the last true rock and roller.”

Another attraction to Allin performances was his continual threats of suicide. In 1998, Allin wrote to Maximum Rock n Roll stating that he would commit suicide on stage on Halloween 1998. However, he was in jail when that day came. He continued his threat each following year but ended up imprisoned each following Halloween. When asked why he doesn’t follow through with his threats, or sometimes his on-stage defecations, Allin stated, “With GG, you don’t get what you expect—you get what you deserve.”

Despite threats of an on stage suicide, Allin died of a heroin overdose in NYC on June 28, 1993. He was 36 years old. His last show was at a small club called The Gas Station in New York City. In his last show the power went out during the second song, after which he trashed the venue and walked the streets of New York naked and covered in blood and feces, surrounded by fans whom he openly embraced.

At his funeral, Allin’s bloated, discolored corpse was dressed in his black leather jacket and trademark jock strap. He had a bottle of Jim Beam beside him in his casket, as per his wishes. As part of his brother’s request, the mortician was instructed not to wash the corpse (which smelled strongly of feces), or apply any makeup. The funeral became a wild party.

Below is a video clip of a bloody GG Allin performance. Although I couldn’t find a clip of GG defecating on stage, this one is a good introduction for the newbies. He manages to rupture his dome with some apparatus (possibly a camera) and cold cocks an audience member. You are probably better off not watching it though.

Death is a very important part of life ~ GG Allin

See also: GG ALLIN 1991 Extra Filthy Bloody Edition “Throbblehead” Doll

13
Mar
08

Satan’s House Band – The Misfits

misfits.jpg

Johnnypeepers has a long and sordid past. As a youth, I was a rebellious street-urchin (as described by me mum). I consciously defied authority at every available opportunity. One way to reject parental, societal, and moral constraints was to embrace evil Satanic music, which brings me to the subject of this post.

danzig.jpg fits.jpg

The Misfits were a wicked collection of lost New Jersey souls who wrote songs about demonic possession, alien sexual abuse of children, and violent misogynistic Hollywood B-movies. The band’s singer was Glenn Danzig, a gifted Italian-American operatic tenor, who could have given Pavarotti a run for his money.

Several of my teenage skateboarding friends had succumbed to the Liar’s musical ambassadors. They coerced me into listening to the Misfit’s destructive mind-corroding anthems. Despite their occult imagery and Satanic message, I still have a great affinity for their music.

bullet.jpg

Bullet” is the Misfit’s sonic masterpiece. As a sadistic and blood-thirsty bastard who obsesses over conspiracy theories and politics, this song is right up my alley.”Bullet” is one of the most bad-ass punk anthems ever put to wax. Whoever threw this video together deserves eternal accolades. Please check it out.

Warning: If you are uncomfortable seeing video footage JFK’s bloody skull remnants, or if the mental image of Jacqueline Lee Bouvier Kennedy Onassis slurping semen from someone’s palm disturbs you, please skip this portion of the post.

President’s bullet-ridden body in the street
Ride, Johnny ride
Kennedy’s shattered head hits concrete
Ride, Johnny ride

Johnny’s wife is floundering
Johnny’s wife is scared
Run, Jackie run

Texas is an outrage when your husband is dead
Texas is an outrage when they pick up his head
Texas is the reason that the presidents dead
You gotta suck, suck, Jackie suck

President’s bullet-ridden body in the street
Ride, Johnny ride
Kennedy’s shattered head hits concrete
Ride, Johnny ride

Texas is an outrage when your husband is dead
Texas is an outrage when they pick up his head
Texas is the reason that the presidents dead
You gotta suck, suck, Jackie suck

Arise Jackie-O, Jonathon of Kennedy
Well, arise and be shot down
The dirts gonna be your dessert
My cum be your life source
And the only way to get it
Is to suck or fuck
Or be poor and devoid
And masturbate me, masturbate me
Then slurp it from your palm
Like a dry desert soaking up rain
Soaking up sun
Like a dry desert soaking up rain
Soaking up sun

Horror Business” is another glorious Misfit’s track. The lyrics never made much sense to me, but that is why I love it. Something about a dude who doesn’t like other muthafuckas going into his bathroom. He even went as far as painting it black and keeping a knife by the door in case there was any confusion. This song straight up kicks ass.

Too much horror business
Driving late at night
Psycho ’78
My bathroom is new

You, you don’t go in the bathroom with me

Psycho ’78
12 o’clock, don’t be late
All this horror business
My mirrors are black

You don’t go in the bathroom with me

With you
I’ll put a knife right in you
I’m warning you
I’ll put a knife right in you
I’m warning you
I’ll put a knife right in you

Although I could not find a clip, “Hollywood Babylon” is a track that deserves an elevated position in the Punk Rock Pantheon. The song is based on Black Art sorceror Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood book that exposes the sordid affairs of the early big-screen stars. The lyrical money shot is – “Do the citizens kneel for sex? It’s heaven cummin’ on her chest.” The song reminds me of one of my all-time favorite flicks, “Sunset Boulevard.” That movie deserves an entire post. If you have not already seen it, do so immediately.

God does not allow the Liar’s seed to enjoy their evil Earthly reign in perpetuity. For example, Glenn Danzig was recently struck down by a soldier of Christ. The lead singer for the punk band “The Northside Kings“, Danny Marianinho (emissary of the Lord), was dispatched to knock Danzig da fuck out for his wickedness. This was a victory for true-believers everywhere. Enjoy the violence.

It’s okay for Christians throughout centuries to exterminate races and for their priests to rape little kids throughout decades, but trying to give the people the power to think and be individual, that’s evil? ~ Glenn Danzig




Johnny Peepers

----> is a socio-pathetic degenerate with a penchant for cheap booze, ruphy-laden broads, and dim sum soup.

a

Blog Stats

  • 1,157,425 hits

Archives