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On Tour Forever
The Pinkz are onstage at Al's Bar again,
sulking through another pop-scented set of rock songs
that would make most moms proud and not a few
groove-diggers tap their feets and grind their teeths
into smiling formation. I'm standing there in the crowd,
thinking "Dang, I love these gals and their musical
monkey business."
There's Michelle, with a voice of longing and the gui-
tar licks to back it up; Alana, sultry and silent, driver
of big sparkly muscle cars and admirer of Angus
Young; Jessica, hater of snakes unless of course said
serpent is being baked to sheer perfection in a succu-
lent cream of mushroom sauce (c'mon! She's in culi-
⚫nary school man!); and Kathy, self-professed stealer of
VCRs and apt to bang the shit out of any drum kit set
before her.
The Pinkz rock like girl geeks in an overdone,
overrun, and extra chintzy Los Angeles, CA rock
scene. They're actually one of the few gems out there.
playing clubs like Al's downtown and Mr T's Bowl in
Pasadena, and they even leave the city (gasp!) on
occasion to play with the Bobbyteens up in SF or to
tour for a spell will the Real Kids from Boston.
Recorded stuff from the Pinkz is about as abundant
as dolphins in the Midwest, but there is this one single
that's worthy of pulling your chain. "You're tearin' me
apart" by Teenage Head on the B side and "USA" b
The Beat on the A. Fucking splendid sounding 10
minutes of music. If this Pinkz single ain't on your top
ten list, then buddy, you need to make a new list.
The recording of a larger chunk of vinyl by the
Pinkz seems to be in the works as of late, but you're
guess is as good as mine when it will be finished and
who's gonna put it out. I know from seeing them play
a hundred times that they have the material to put ⚫
out an LP, and there's enough hype amongst the
people with cool haircuts that several record labels wil
be schmoozing the gals I'm sure. But with all the pot
brownie parties, gourmet barbeques, and dirty dishes
to do, no one, not even the Pinkz themselves, know
what's in store until the weekend hits. Then it's most
definitely time to rock, and that's just fine if you ask
me and my mom... -Andy Harris
NOTES
from the underground
wo things I promise to stop talking about
when they cease to be relevant are Radio Birdman and the
month. Take heed: Soldiers of Rock 'n' Roll is Birdman's latest posthu-
mous (how many years now, 23?) release. It's an "audio documentary"
that looks at the life of the band, starting with their influences (MC5 and
Stooges songs here) and featuring interviews with band members and
The Bell Rays others, then finishing with a couple New Race songs. It's got some
great songs but nothing new; still it's pretty worthy. And from Sweden,
Welfare's LP On a Mission is another kill release from Rock n' Roll Blitzkrieg. Gutsy, powerful shit that is
much more of the punk/ big rock sound without the whining. I kinda thought some of it sounded like the
Cosmic Psychos in dumb, brute force alone. Anyway, this one kicks ass. The Budget Girls are still con-
siderably naughty. They like going topless because they think it is their duty to men. They don't like men
who come over to their house and pee in their bed. They must like those Headcoat/Toe Rag folks
because that's who they record with. Look for their latest, uh, seven inch on Voodoo Rhythm Electro
Harmonix, which seems to be a division of Spain's killer Munster Records, who also just released a bunch
of older Spanish garage punk stuff from the '60s. Los Sonmbulos is one such band, and their 10 inch Rock
con los Sonmbulos has some smokin' stuff,
not the least of which is a Spanish ver-
sion of "Great Balls of Fire." There are
others in the series and if they're as
good as this one, I'll be
A
n
"We're talking gutsy,
searchin' 'em out. The Sultans sound
like some guys from Rocket From The
Crypt. The Sultans are some guys from Rocket
powerful shit..."
From The Crypt. They cannot fool me. Their debut LP is like a stripped down RFTC without horns;
maybe a little faster. How does that sound to you? If you answered "Not too bad" You're right, but I
know for a fact some people are gonna go apeshit gaga over this. I have to admit that I don't like
the second LP as much as the first yet (although the first one did take a little time to grow on me
and I have been playing it pretty frequently lately), but no matter how you slice it, The Bell Rays
kick ass. Their sophomore effort features the same soul-driven vocals over rock, the kind of music
that makes the "cool guys and girls" scratch their heads wondering if it's "cool" but leaves those in
the know aglow. Two songs make me feel as though they have been listening to some Billy Childish
stuff. It's called Grand Fury and it's on Upper Cut, through Vital Gesture. On the live front, I've seen.
The Lazy Cowgirls plenty of times and they never cease to get it going. They just played at a
Chinese restaurant in town and blew the roof off, not with volume but with adeptness. Sure they've
been around for years and are a perennial LA bar band, but when Pat Todd starts movin' and shakin'
that bald dome, it's on. One thing I did notice this time around is that their guitar player gives a
tip of the hat to Chuck Berry. At least that's what I thought... --Wez Lundry
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