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NOTES from the underground
Thundering chords ring across
a landscape of pounding rum
bles, punctuated by the gruff
shouts of Lemmy calling the
strange to arms. In a world of
"I Will Follow," Motörhead
stands alone, pulverizing punk
and mashing metal into wired
strains of hardcore melody. On
Motörhead's fifteenth album in
seventeen years, longtime
drummer Phil "Philthy Animal
Taylor was unexpectedly
ejected from the band.
"Basically, we kicked him out.
said guitarist Zoom (aka Phil
Campbell) from a "drinking
meeting" at the Hilton in
Albany, NY. "Four months after
we wrote the songs, he didn't
know them. His excuse was
his Walkman broke. I mean
that's not good enough. He
was more interested in moving
When Motörhead furniture around in his hotel rooms than he was in drumming." Enter Mikkey
(above) ain't Dee of King Diamond to fill the void. March Or Die carries on in the ear-
playing, they're piercing razor tradition, stretching from a Motorized cover of "Cat Scratch
Fever" by Ted Nugent, to full-speed ahead torpedoes like "Jack The Ripper,"
hanging out to the bad blues bullets of "You Better Run" featuring Slash on lead. Zoom
in the hotel bar. says Motörhead's sound is still evolving. "We've got fed-up with playing
Lingering in an every song a hundred miles an hour. We don't listen to speed metal, we all
East Coast tavern, think that's crap. But lots of people like it, that's fair enough. We consider
Lemmy sends out ourselves a heavy rock and roll band. And anyone that knows anything about
music should realize that... Growing up in a bad neighborhood taught the
a hex on them
Cadillac Tramps that you don't need money to have character. "You can be
that dis the new poor but still have style," says guitarist Brian Coakley. "You can go around
album. Mean still holding your head up and having class, whether you're from a silver plate
while, Würzel family or a paper plate family." Tombstone Radio, the Tramps' second and
smiles and hoists best, is a barbecued slab of chunky, rolling grooves. Singer Gabby, new
a mug. Chief drummer Spanky from China White, bassist Warren Renfrow from Final
Conflict, along with Coakley and Johnny Wickersham on guitars, deliver a
Engineer Scott monumental slice that almost captures the full-on intensity of their live set...
(right) has met After playing with The Germs, 45 Grave, Adolescents and Twisted Roots.
some pretty to name a few, Pat Smear decided he was tired of people telling him he was
strange alliens in playing the wrong chords and singing out of key, so he went solo. For his lat
his time, but noth-est opting. So You Fell In Love With A Musician, Pat enlisted the help of
Gary Jacoby from Celebrity Skin and Death Folk on drums, and played all
ing could prepare the rest of the instruments himself. The result is mangled chunks of gibberish
him for Sven Eric and fantasy thrown over some severely other-worldly guitar that somehow
Geddes and his 7" together. "'s like ESP within yourself because it just sort of happens," he
compilation of says... Rev up that 456 and shift to glide, The Estrus Gearbox Set is hot rod
waste cases from heaven. Fast and furious 1/4 mile tunes by The Muffs. Cheater Slicks.
Gashuffer, Fastbacks. Huevos Rancheros, M-80s and Mono Men rage
beyond space.
down backstreet raceways in a tribute to roadsters and dragsters every-
RICKTER SCALE
fit
where Tough logs for those who don't dig the Ramone sound, the legacy.
grows thicker with Mondo Bizarro, Johnny, Joey, Marky and Jay crank a
cast of killers carrying on that pure Ramonic fury, including "Censorshit." "The
Job That Ate My Brain" and the soon to be much-ballyhooed cover of "Take It
As It Comes by The Doors. No matter how much hype, production and
guest musicians a band might have, "It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that
swing." Just ask Euro funkaholic jazz thrash hardcore metal meisters
Maximum Bob, who have a single on Blackbox Records that takes it down,
and a potent CD called Be My Judge. Playing in rat-infested squatters halls
through the dregs of Europe, they learned, says bassist/singer Eddie, "As
long as you do it with honesty, you can do whatever you like... Mark
Hanford, bassist for Haggis, points out, if something is worth mentioning, it's
worth mentioning correctly. In the August 1992 Thrasher, Kevin Jarvis men-
tioned some Treepeople-approved Boise bands and there were a few typos.
To set the record straight, Toxin Resin should be Caustic Resin, Deep Down
Trauma House should be Deep Down Trauma Hounds, and Hagus should
be Haggis, featuring guitarist Paul Brinbaum, ex-drummer for Septic Death.
For his crimes, Jarvis is slated to do the Barry Manilow interview...
Klingons, Romulans, Vulcans and Tribbles have had more impact on
American culture than a thousand episodes of Dynasty. From the brash
bravado of Capt. James Tiberius Kirk to the quirky ways of Lt. Data
Star Trek has also garnered its share of satire. The latest spoof is called
Fuck You Spaceman, a surf garage spoof single featuring San Mateo blunt
mongers Three Stoned Men doing a crazy little thing called "Lieutenant
Uhura. This outer spaced love song beckons the stunning communications
officer to flee her chair on the bridge and elope with the Stoners in a mist of
cannabis bliss. "It's one of the few songs they've ever done where pot is not
one of the preoccupations," says record mastermind Sven Eric Geddes, but
they did manage to get it in there." SF surf stalwarts The Phantom Surfers
bite off a hunkin' hunk of burnin' controversy with a wet supernova called
"Klingons Vs. Daleks. To most Trekkers, the outcome of such a battle would
be obvious, with the Klingons standing over the Daleks like so much vapor-
ized metal, but the Surfers would have no part of that. While on an errand to
bring the Klingons a round of root beers, the Daleks destroy their captors in
one fell swoop. Phantom bassist Michael Lucas defends the Dalek victory
as perfectly plausible. "C'mon," he says. "Daleks are not even human, they're
cybernotic. They ambushed the Klingons." For
the lowest scum of sentient existence, just look "In
The Bilges of the Enterprise. There you'll find
Slug Dick Nick covered with jelly from an orgy of
alien sexual gratification. The Mummies round
things off with their interstellar garage stomp.
"Doin' The Kirk." Fuck You Spaceman, with its
pen and ink cover of Mr. Spock giving the
universe the finger, probably won't be
sold in fine record stores near you.
It certainly won't be heard on SF radio
station (KK)KUSF, which pulled out
of a record release show because
the station manager didn't want to be
associated with the word "Fuck." So to
sidestep all the red tape, write Sven
Eric Geddes, 1800 Market St. #45,
SF, CA 94102 -Brian Brannon
City, St.
Zip
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