Before the explosion of music videos and talk radio, deejays were pilots in the long, teenage night, and Wolfman Jack was the hipster deejay par excellence. He was a pure American product, a transistor evangelist who so wanted to be black that he did the next best thing and darkened…
Four years back, Naughty by Nature emerged from East Orange, New Jersey, as the brash young Turks of hip-hop. Using the ghetto for a launch pad and the chant-along chorus of “O.P.P.” from its self-titled debut album as fuel, NBN took off for stardom. Critical acclaim and massive sales proved…
It’s 10 a.m. and Terry Garvin of Zen Lunatics is cuckoo. For the munchy, crunchy, chocolatey taste of Cocoa Puffs, that is. It’s an addiction that has reared its sugary head only in recent years. “I didn’t eat breakfast cereals for the longest time because they would depress me. I…
Isaac Hayes answers the door of his Dallas hotel room, his bald head down and his eyes sagging. By way of introduction, he yawns and apologizes for being so damned tired, and ushers his guest into the room with a limp raising of his left arm. He wears black pants…
Stop your average person on the street, pin him to the ground, hog-tie him and threaten to extinguish a cigar on a pink body part, and it’s still a pretty safe bet that he would not be able to tell you who Steve Ferguson is. If, however, Jimi Hendrix had…
Forget about all that trendy “cocktail nation” stuff, the music of Esquivel is in a category of its own. The man made a slew of dynamic instrumental records in the Fifties and Sixties that utilized space-age stereo in a way no one ever had. Of course, you can find all…
Think of the conventional rock ‘n’ roll ne’er-do-well of recent generations: the angry greaser, the macho rocker, the sneering punk. Mix their DNAs and saddle the results with a guitar. You’ll get something that looks a lot like Keith Jackson. That’s him leaning against a wall in the parking lot…
The worst thing we could’ve done to Michael Jackson was to buy 40 million copies of Thriller. Up until that record-breaking point, Jackson was an entertainer celebrated solely for his artistry, not for his bizarre behavior or his rapidly deteriorating face. Before 1982, if you spotted him in a tabloid,…
“Man Collapses in Struggle With Police” was the headline of a recent Associated Press story that appeared in the Arizona Republic’s obituaries section. “Man” was one Kurt Mayberry, 39, who had stopped breathing at Maricopa Medical Center on June 13 after an apparent cocaine overdose. The article gave the gory…
Not too long ago, Tempe angst-rock quartet Brick Chair bought a van from an old guy in a Glendale trailer park. Big deal, you say. But wait a second, for you are about to find out how the grizzled gent became a metaphor for the Chair’s from-the-heart approach to music…
It’s a given: Most Americans know ca-ca about ska. To date, we’ve only sent one record with a skanking beat into the Top 5–Little Millie Small’s squeaky-sweet ode to her pubescent licking stick, “My Boy Lollipop”–and that was way back in 1964! Despite its impressive chart showing, “Lollipop” was largely…
You wanna talk influential bands? It’s gonna be a short conversation. What band has done more than KISS to influence everyone who’s anyone today–from Nirvana to Garth Brooks to the Gin Blossoms? That’s right, all none of ’em! KISS is legendary, this we know. And Gene Simmons knows it, too;…
It’s a breezy night at Club Rio in Tempe. The courtyard in the back is framed with lazy, swaying palms. A stage is set up at the east side of the patio. In front of the stage, there’s a large, ornate fountain gurgling water on itself. Behind the stage are…
Remember that old rallying cry of the record industry in the Eighties: “Home taping is killing music”? Well, Mesa’s No Name Maddox has administered the last fatal blow to music as we knew and loved her with this frightening, homemade porridge of samples, synthesizers and psychotics. “D.I.Y.–fuck the great God…
Techno composer Moby is a hypocrite, but he’s the first to admit it. “Everything I do is contradiction, and it’s laden with hypocrisy,” says the vegan and environmentalist. Moby, a.k.a. Richard Melville Hall, speaks out against a number of issues, including toxic waste and cattle ranching. Pretty much everything about…
Because we refer to television as “the vast wasteland,” we don’t put much stock in music made by its inhabitants. Plenty of TV personalities have fashioned disastrous singing careers for themselves, but few have ever tried to branch out into instrumental music. In the Fifties, Jackie Gleason parlayed his enormous…
Live albums? Why, they’re either contractual obligations or shameful cash-ins for someone who’s just bolted from his record label. More often, they’re the measure of an artist whose best work is behind him. Take Paul McCartney. His albums barely go gold anymore, so it’s no surprise that he’s released three…
The boys in Beats the Hell Out of Me are green! They’re babes in the woods of rock! They’re new to the ways of the Business, and by that, of course, I mean the Industry! Check this out: When I met the Tempe quintet–guitarists Tom Coffeen and Chris Bailey, bassist…
There’s nothing like an early death to prompt critical reconsideration–Frank Zappa, who succumbed to cancer in late 1993 at the age of 52, has gotten a major boost to his reputation. At the time of his passing, the music made by this grumpy auteur was heard by few listeners outside…
Rock ‘n’ roll often breeds absurdity. Artists who won’t play a show unless the backstage M&Ms are the right color or drummers whose hobby is hotel-room demolition. By comparison, Jonathan Richman seems remarkable. The man is urbane, civil, polite on the phone. “Hey, there,” chirps someone in smiley tones suitable…
From its humble beginnings in the South Bronx to “Rappers Delight” to Run-DMC, N.W.A and beyond, hip-hop has proved to be the most vital and progressive music form of the past 20 years, with enough staying power to rival even rock ‘n’ roll’s lengthy reign. Like rock, rap struck terror…
Do you know who the late Vivian Stanshall was? I didn’t, either, until I got a job working a 50-year-old switchboard in the Gralyn Hotel in Washington, D.C., and moved into a tiny room in the rear corner of the building. This was about 12 years ago. My space–which once…
