The METAL MIKE SAUNDERS Interview [1978]

Text by Gary Sperrazza! / Big Star fanzine, 1978

Introduction by Bernie Kugel / Big Star fanzine, 1978

Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020

Images from the Internet

This interview was originally published in Big Star fanzine, issue #3, dated Spring 1978. It was written by Gary Sperrazza!, who passed away in 2016 (but his exclamation point lives on). Thanks to Bernie Kugel, the fanzine’s publisher, who kindly granted permission for this reprint.

Metal Mike Saunders is a name that was a much larger known West Coast punk personality than in the East, but he had quite an influence through his early punk rock journalism at both national and fanzine levels, and later with hardcore bands like VOM, and especially the Angry Samoans (who have been touring again in the last couple of years). However, his biggest claim to fame that no one seems to remember is that he is credited with coining the phrase “Heavy Metal.” – RBF, 2020

* * *

In the early ‘70s, Mike Saunders was one of the leading and best writers around, especially when he was writing about the topics most near and dear to him: heavy metal and punk rock of the ‘60s, in such diverse publications as Flash magazine, Phonograph Record Magazine and Buffalo’s own lamented Shakin’ Street Gazette. He also was partly responsible for the legendary Brain Damage mag, the great one-shot parody of the big fanzines a few years back. He was also one of the guys initially responsible for the quickly-becoming-legendary West Coast rock critic punk band, VOM, even though he seems to have stepped back from taking a major role in the band, preferring to just “churn out heavy metal riffs.” Some of the classics he’s written over the years includes such underground hits as “Got a Dagger for You Jagger,” “Just Killed My Dad,” “Getting High with Stephen Stills,” “Gary Gilmore is my Friend,” and many others which will hopefully find their way to vinyl in one form or another, eventually.

Lester Bangs [d. 1982 – RBF] recently told me that Metal Mike was truly “ahead of his time.” So to satisfy the needs of all the Metal Mike fans across the globe, we present this little interview recently done by Big Star West Coast Editor, Gary Sperrazza! – BK, 1978

* * *

Big Star: What have you been doing lately?

Metal Mike Saunders: Well, from 1973 through mid-’75, I worked a 9-to-5 office job here in LA that truly inspired me to go back to Arkansas and get a second college (degree) so I could become an accountant. I saved a lot of money those two years. A lot for what I was making, but… so now I’ve got the degree, got suits in the closet, my hair is cut short, (and) I’m hunting for that first accounting job. I guess my goal is to have $100,000 in the bank at the age of 35. That’s really sick, you know! But accounting is a vehicle through which to achieve that goal, and it’s (a) great profession, besides. Do you really think anyone cares about this trivia, outside of my mother?

Big Star: Not really.

Metal Mike: So let’s talk about something interesting. How about the Dodgers?

Big Star: What about ‘em?

Metal Mike: Well, what it amounts to is that in this town (Los Angeles), the Dodgers are bigger than rock’n’roll, TV, and movies all combined. They’ve run these surveys showing that 71.7% of all males (females, 54%) over 18 listen to the Dodgers games on the radio or TV. And the team is amazing anyway… manager Tommy Lasorda is a bona fide future legend in the making. What it amounts to is that in LA, the Dodgers kill any current rock’n’roll phenomena with the possible exception of KISS.

Big Star: KISS???

Metal Mike: Yeah, I think they’re the ‘70s Beach Boys. The best American rock group, hands down. I love their records.

Big Star: Care to elaborate on that assertion?

Metal Mike: No, not really. KISS are just the commercialization of heavy metal that I was really waiting years for. Plus, they got the most and best riffs of any band around. Like, “I Stole Your Love,” man – any of you MC5 fans who can’t get into that, I’m having your record collections repossessed tomorrow! Or “Love Gun,” to stay current – that’s as good a 45 as anything.

Big Star: Anything else you like in the current rock scene?

Metal Mike: ABBA are really, really great; they’re the only other group whose albums I’d pay four bucks for. Aerosmith are OK, Rush and Starz ditto, Ted Nugent, eh… I really liked all those rock’n’roll Top 40 singles from the past year: Boston, Foghat, KISS, Steve Miller, ELO, the Bay City Rollers’ rock’n’roll singles; paid 99 cents at K-Mart for all those groups’ 45s. Basically, I’m just a heavy metal purist. AM radio finally caught up with heavy metal guitar via Boston – so my taste now is really mainstream. Don’t ask me about New Wave, I hate that stuff. “God Save the Queen” was a great record, both sides, but otherwise… Limeys can’t do anything right, y’know. The Ramones albums literally make me ill. Their 45s are neat though – I bought “Sheena is a Punk Rocker.”

Big Star: Any other hobbies or fandoms you like better than rock’n’roll?

Metal Mike: Oh, yeah, I’ve been back into wargaming since 1975. It’s a great hobby… a couple nights a month, anyway. Baseball is really the king, though.

Big Star: Tell us about R. Meltzer and VOM.

Metal Mike: Gregg Turner came by one day and mentioned that Meltzer wanted to do a group; he was really serious about forming a band. So I said, “Okay,” and the next time I plugged in the fuzzbox to write some metallic riffs, I did a song tailored to Meltzer’s voice, “Getting High with Stephen Stills.” Then a couple days later Turner came by with a lyric he had called “Too Animalistic,” and I wrote some Fred Smith/Wayne Kramer riffs for it, and it was obviously a VOM song! So it all took off, and the concept of VOM has been expanding ever since.

Big Star: Which is?

Metal Mike: Sort of a cross between heavy metal Fugs and the first Stooges album.

Big Star: Who’s gonna be in the band?

Metal Mike: Three friends of Meltzer’s on guitars and bass who’ve knocked around in bands, we’re auditioning drummer, myself on anything from guitar to drums to vocals, plus Meltzer and Turner handing a plurality of the vocals. So things as of this date (10/77) are in that embryonic stage of finding the right musicians, then rehearsing for a couple months.

Big Star: So what’s the musical genre?

Metal Mike: Various levels of heavy metal, because that’s all I write – Black Sabbath/Stooges, mutated ’66 metal, or whatever level of tightness is attained, but with Meltzeroid lyrics and stage presentation. Heavy metal Fugs is really a good description. Unless it’s both stupid… and funny... then we’re not gonna do it.

Big Star: You have a really big backlog of songs of your own, don’t you?

Metal Mike: Oh, yeah, around 300-350 from over the past eight years. I love making up riffs; it’s like working algebra problems. Quick and easy, (in) 10 minutes ya got it, another song. It’s like permutations – 10 different basic chord changes in 10 different sequences, 10 different tempos. 10 x 10 x 10… a thousand songs. You’ve just got to know the basic riffs really well, like very good punk rock or heavy metal record ever made. I think Paul Stanley of KISS is really one of the best riff-mongers ever; his output is just great.

Big Star: What’s your personal experience in rock bands?

Metal Mike: The mid- and late-‘60s, as a drummer and guitarist in a lot of garage bands back in Little Rock, Arkansas; some real megatonic heavyweights like the Rockin’ Blewz, the Living Endz, Society’s Outcasts, among others… A Standells member I wasn’t – by the end of high school I was a real basket case stage-wise… a walking time bomb capable of blowing a chord change at the worst possible moment. Like the chorus of “Talk Talk”… or the intro to “Louie Louie.” My position with VOM as musical director/dictator and utility infielder is really ideal… I only have to play on the songs I know I’m not gonna blow. All three of them…

Big Star: Back to rock writing –

Metal Mike: Rock what?

Big Star: Rock writing; magazines…

Metal Mike: Boy, ya got me. It was just something I did in lieu of working at McDonald’s during my college years, you know.

Big Star: Any writers you like?

Metal Mike: Oh, yeah. Nick Kent of NME was amazing during his hot period. Charles Shaar Murray is amazing. Max Bell also of NME has done real well at times. Over in this country you had or have Lester Bangs. All the rest of us turkeys were a good six notches below Bangs and those first two, I think you’ll agree. Like, I mean, Lenny Kaye for example had a couple great moments, but… Like Circus is really the best commercial American pro-zine at this point – don’t you think that kinda says it all?

Big Star: Compared to NME, yes. Any comments on Mark Shipper, Flash, or your Brain Damage fanzine from 1974?

Metal Mike: No, not really. At this late date it’s just all water under the cesspool… Let bygones be bygones. Who cares, y’know?? I’m still gonna let the air out of Shipper’s tires someday, though!

Angry Samoans: Metal Mike on far left

Big Star: Anything else about VOM?

Metal Mike: Yeah. At the first VOM business meeting, Meltzer was really drunk, knocking over things. We got into an argument on how you write songs, me being used to patching lyrics onto riffs I make up, and then he called me a folkie. I really wanted to deck him. But I calmed down… so Turner and I went into his brother’s bedroom, locked the door, and plugged in the guitar and took a couple of Meltzer’s finished lyrics, “Electrocute Your Cock” and “I’m in Love with Your Mom,” and I made up riffs for them. Good ones, right on the spot. So when we came back out in half an hour with finished songs, Richard saw we weren’t kidding about being just what he needed musically…. He’s going, “Hey, Blue Oyster Cult takes six months to write a riff… this is all right!” And it’s been easy working with him ever since; we write together when we can in the same genre, lyric-wise, so it’s a real songwriting mill. All that Meltzer needs is someone to crank out the music; he’s got the best lyrics around. “I Live with the Roaches” is hilarious – I can’t believe BOC [Blue Oyster Cult – RBF, 2020] wimped out on recording that! All that has to happen is for the group to attain a reasonable level of competence and keep up with the quality of material that’s gonna be coming out.

Big Star: How about records?

Metal Mike: Aw, that’s the best part… for records, we’re gonna bring in Ross Friedman [Ross the Boss, at the time in the Dictators,– RBF, 2020], that kind of thing. They’ll be real heavy metal 45s. I’m the musical Dictator of Vinyl – so they have to be, or they won’t happen. Back Door Man Records will have their first big chance to break the 1,000 sales mark… maybe even 2,000!

Big Star: Sounds Interesting.

Metal Mike: Well, y’know… heavy metal Fugs… I guess it beats watching the San Diego Padres on TV… unless they happen to be playing the Dodgers, that is.

30 Questions I’ve Always Wanted to Ask JOHN MENDELSSOHN: Big Star Fanzine Reprint [1977]

Text by Bernie Kugel / Big Star fanzine, 1977
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

This interview was originally printed in Big Star fanzine, issue #2, dated August-September-October 1977. It was written by its publisher, Buffalo (NY) Musician Hall of Fame Inductee Bernie Kugel, who kindly and granted permission for this reprint.

John Mendelssohn  is a well-known and respect music and culture critic. At the time of this article, he was gaining name for both is snarky and funny album reviews, and for his two bands, Christopher Milk and then The Pits. He also released some solo recordings, such as Sorry We’re Open (2010) with pop sounds that belied a history of insecurity and depression (as most writers will attest to about themselves). He often writes about that history now, which is quite evident in this interview.

Over time, as the recordings dwindled, he focused more on his writing, including a number of non-fiction books (such as the much lauded Kinks Kronikles and Waiting for Kate Bush) and a blog. He has made some serious moves over the years, living in such diverse areas as SoCal, England, Germany and Upstate New York, some of which revolved around marriages.

Like Lester Bangs, who was arguably better known, Mendelssohn’s contribution to rock writing cannot be underplayed, as he was part of a voice in the very late ‘sixties and well into the ‘seventies, helping create a form of creative non-fiction that influences the way people discuss the entertainment world at large even today.

Click on these links to check out his informative and fun BLOG called Mendel Illness, WRITING SAMPLES from his earlier days, some of his MUSIC, FICTION, and VIDEO AND MOTION GRAPHICS.

Two things to note are that Mendelsson also has been known to spell is name with a single “s” so don’t let that mislead  you, and that anything in [brackets] was added by me in 2015. – RBF, 2015

Christopher Milk publicity shot: John is second from right

John Mendelssohn’s been making unique, personal, great pop music for some years now with only some of the best of it surfacing on records like his old band Christopher Milk’s great Some People Will Drink Anything [Reprise Records, 1972 – RBF, 2015] LP and his new band the Fits’ fine debut EP on Bomp! Records. But there are other fine John Mendelssohn compositions that have as yet not seen the light of day. Incredible stuff too, like the amazing “Bring Back the Sixties” and the simply majestic “Prepared to Love” among the hours of unreleased Mendelssohn songs.

We’ve been very fortunate to be in contact with John the past few months, and he’s been kind enough to send along some of his unreleased tapes which will be covered in upcoming Big Stars in great detail. But for now, we thought we’d satisfy all you die-hard Mendelssohn freaks out there with this little by-mail exchange I had with him recently. But hang on, ‘cause there’s lots more Mendelssohn-Milt-Fits fax-n-pix comin’ your way soon. And remember, before you decide to move out west, Hollywood can be cruel. Now, Milk on…

1. Did you have aspirations for rock superstardom as a kid?

Up until the time I saw Hard Day’s Night, I dreamed not of rock stardom, but of a career as a professional baseball or basketball player, in spite of the fact that I never exactly excelled at either. (I was very small up until the age of seventeen, which had a little to do with it.)

2. What were your earliest attempts at bands like? What were your earliest original compositions like?

The Fogmen (Santa Monica High School, 1965), The Rubber Souls (winter, 1965) were both Beatles imitations in velour turtlenecks and Thom McCann boots. The Consouls (summer, 1965) was run by three older geezers and played soul music, very poorly. The 1930 Four played English stuff, jazz and a couple of Ray Charles things, and won the Battle of the Bands sponsored by the Santa Monica Chamber of Commerce in 1966. I was thrown out in May 1967. My earliest compositions were lame imitations of my favorite records.

3. What were the early days of C. Milk like? How did the group come together?

Hectic, silly, young and innocent, induplicable [sic] fun. Ralph [Oswald] and I began playing together in April 1968. The Kiddo joined in April 1970, with Mr. Twister. Forgive me if I don’t get more into it, but I’s boring to get so detailed about a group that no longer exists, and hasn’t for nearly four years.

4. Were you satisfied with the first [self-titled 1971] Milk EP when it came out (and the reaction towards it)?

No, but explaining why would take too long and ultimately prove not worth the trouble so far as I can see.

5. Why didn’t Mr. Twister ever appear on vinyl?

Because he couldn’t carry a tune to save his life and was used sort of as comic relief on stage only.

6. Were you happy with the release of the first album? What did you think of the generally negative reaction it got from “critics”?

No. If we’d spend one-tenth the time on the vocals that we did overdubbing seventy-five thousand guitar parts I might be able to listen to it today without cringing. Since most of Warners either hated us or were embarrassed by our presence on the label, it was doomed from the beginning. Also, I think Chris Thomas is a horrible producer [Thomas has produced, among others, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Queen, Roxy Music, Badfinger, The Pretenders, and The Sex Pistols), although he was at that time of the sessions a very dear friend. I’ve come to believe that it deserved the reaction it got. (Essentially, C. Mil’s biggest problem was that ours – or, more accurately, Ralph’s – ambitions far exceeded our abilities as musicians. Of course, I didn’t realize this fully until much later.)

7. Do you have favorite songs off the first LP?

“Tiger,” “A Second Hard Viola” (which I still think Rod Stewart ought to record) (that’s me on drums), the last part of “[The] Babyshoes [Bittersuite Sad Songs That She Inspired].” (If Ralph’s techniques equalled his melodic inventiveness he’d be the best guitarist in rock.)

8. What were the final “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” [1973] single sessions like and did the band immediately break up after being dropped from Warners?

Great fun for everyone save The Kiddo, who disliked the way I recorded and mixed he bass (I produced, but didn’t give myself credit because my work as a critic had made us so many powerful enemies). We broke up almost immediately after the single flopped, having no manager, no label, no agency, no gigs, few fans.

9. Did ya go solo and record things solo before the invention of the Pits, and how did that band come about?

I began working on my own stuff a couple of months before the Milk officially called it quits. The Pits came about because I realized that my trying to synthesize everything on an ARP Odyssey [analog synthesizer] wasn’t’ working.

10. If you had to choose a few songs which have influenced your writing of songs the most, which would you choose?

“Here, There and Everywhere,” “Waterloo Sunset,” “For No One,” “Tattoo,” and so on far into the night. I’ve always been the soft to succumb unhesitatingly to a beautiful melody and a poignant or amusing bunch of lyrics. “For No One’s” my all-time fave.

11. What’s the normal day of John Mendelssohn like today?

Wake up, get out of bed, have a bowl of Team [cereal], some apple juice, several cups of coffee, re-read the LA Times’ Sports Section 85 times, go in den/studio and brood, make lunch, go back into den to sulk until mid-afternoon, go run mile as fast as possible and play basketball or tennis at Fairfax High School (alma mater of Phil Spector), come home, sulk until Marie comes home from work, eat dinner, get high, make love, watch TV or brook some more (or sometimes work on prose or new song), wonder why it’s taking so long to put new Pits line-up together, go to sleep.

12. If you had to briefly characterize your songs what would you say they’re about?

All manner of things, whimsical and wondrous. People are forever comparing me to Sparks, which I detest with a passion.

13. How many songs have you written in your life and which are your favorites?

Around forty. Favorites: “Prepared to Love,” “Autumn Approaching,” “Where’s My Jane?”

14. Do you have a favorite and least favorite rock critic?

Favorite: Lester Bangs, even though he no longer returns my calls. All-time least favorite: Ed Ward [at the time, writing for Rolling Stone, Crawdaddy, and Creem].

15. What do you think you’ll be doing at age sixty?

Brooding.

16. Why aren’t you singing on the new Pits recordings?

I’m very insecure – with good reason – about my voice. But I am getting better.

17. If you had to choose between journalism and songwriting, which would you choose?

Not between songwriting and journalism, but between music and prose. (Sitting at my Hohner String Vox [electric keyboard] for hours on end trying to make a song work isn’t the fun part: recording and performing are infinitely more enjoyable.) I’d take music.

18. Do you envision a day when the Pits will play Dodger and Yankee Stadiums?

I’d settle for the Santa Monica Civic.

19. Do you think superstardom will change you?

Probably a little. In this regard, one couldn’t do better than Bev Bevan [English drummer for the likes of The Move, ELO and Black Sabbath], who’s remained one of the nicest guys and best friends in the world in spite of everything.

20. Do you regret anything you’ve done in this life?

To be honest, there aren’t a lot of things I don’t regret. I’m not one of nature’s happier sorts as a general rule. (When it comes to finding a way to be miserable, even when it appears that everything’s coming up roses, I’m topped only by Chris Thomas.)

21. What would you like written on your grave when you have to go to the popstar heaven in the sky?

Here lies John Mendelssohn.

22. What advice would you have for rock journalist types and somewhat saner folks who want to pursue the road to being a superstar?

I’m the last person anyone in his right mind would come to for advice.

23. Are you generally cheerful or optimistic would you say?

Not hardly.

24. Why haven’t there been more live appearances by the Mendelssohn bands?

We couldn’t get bookings. God knows we rehearsed enough.

25. If you had to put your lifetime goals in twenty-five words or less, what would they be?

I’d like one day to be very happy.

26. What do you think of the (formal) education you’ve had?

Roughly 95% of the teachers and professors I had over the course of sixteen years of schooling ought to be shot, or at least allowed never again to open their stupid yaps within hearing of impressionable youngsters.

27. If you could live in another decade than this one, is there any particular one you’d choose?

I think I could learn to love the present century’s ‘forties and ‘sixties (and probably ‘twenties) in perpetuity.

28. What would you do if there was no rock-n-roll?

Not play quite so loud.

29. Do you have favorite books and authors and films and TV shows and foods?

Authors: Tom Wolfe, Philip Roth, Frederick Exley. TV: “Saturday Night Life” with Tony Kaufman (who with Albert Brooks is one of the two funniest men in America), “M*A*S*H,” “Mary Tyler Moore,” “60 Minutes.” (I used to be dedicated to “All in the Family,” which I know longer enjoy, to the point at which I once came off stage in Irvine at 7:20 and was back in my favorite chair in my house in Laurel Canyon some 62 mile away in time to watch, having broken every possible traffic law in-between. Incidentally, a corner of said chair is visible in one of the photographs of me on the back of the Milk album, taken a few houses after I had my wisdom teeth extracted.) Food: Marie’s world-famous (ask Mr. and Mrs. B. Bevan of Birmingham, England, if you don’t believe me) fried fish, Marie’s world-famous chef salad, just about anything at Au Petit Café on Vine in Hollywood.

30. Do you have any final word to your fans across the world?

Some day

Damned Fans Talk to CAPTAIN SENSIBLE, DAMNED Bassist in N.Y.C. (at CBGB’s after first Damned Set [1977]

Text by Bernie Kugel / Big Star fanzine, 1977

Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015

Images from the Internet

This interview was originally printed in Big Star fanzine, issue #2, dated August-September-October 1977. It was written by its publisher, Buffalo Musicians Hall of Fame Inductee Bernie Kugel, who kindly granted permission for this reprint.

 

I feel lucky to have seen the first generation of the Damned (i.e., pre-Goth) a few of times at CBGB’s in the 1970s, usually with the Dead Boys. For the interview below, Big Star publisher and good friend Bernie Kugel wanted to interview them for his Buffalo-based fanzine (I hadn’t started mine yet), so Bernie, his college roommate and The Good original bassist Steve Lum, and myself headed down to see them play. Somehow, Bernie managed to get the Damned’s bassist Captain Sensible to sit down at a table with us along the north side brick wall and talk. He was not aware there was a tape recorder right there, so he was in Raymond Burns mode, rather than the aggressive, punk Captain, and we actually got some straight answers off of him. That is, until he realized the tape recorder was on and taping, and with a surprised, non-verbal WOT! he took off in seconds flat. When Bernie published the interview, he took the questions asked by Steve and myself and listed us as “Kid at CBGB’s.” I asked the Ramones question, natch, and Steve asked the others. [Quick note from Bernie: We have not been able to ascertain the whereabouts of Steve Lum for a few decades, so if he reads this please contact this Website.”]

 

In its latest incarnation, Captain Sensible and lead singer Dave Vanian are the two remaining original members. – RBF, 2015

Dave Vanian, Rat Scabies, Brian James, Captain Sensible

 The Damned came to America, saw lots of stuff (most of which they didn’t like) and if they did not quite conquer the place, they at least played some really alive rock and roll. They’re now in England again and after finishing a tour with the Adverts (where it was advertised that the Damned know three chords and the Adverts know one, so you should come to the concerts and hear all four!) they have put out a new single [“Stretcher Case Baby” – RBF, 2015] and are supposed to be working on their second LP [Music for Pleasure – RBF, 2015]. Meanwhile the first album [Damned Damned Damned – RBF, 2015] contains many stunning cuts and their “Neat Neat Neat” and “New Rose” singles are a couple of the best songs out of the new wave; all their stuff stands up well, even after large doses. The only complain I might have with these guys is that they sometimes don’t seem to really want to talk, and most of the interviews done with them in the States seem to reflect that type of attitude. But when a bunch of Damned fans cornered Captain Sensible, Damned bassist, after the very first Damned set in the U.S., he spoke openly, happily, and had some really interesting things to say. Here’s the conversation…

 

Bernie Kugel: We hear that all you guys like the Damned and Clash can’t play in England anymore…

Captain Sensible: Well, we can’t play in London. There’s nowhere we can play in London apart from the Roxy, which is a crappy, silly little club a little bit bigger than this place. But around the country we can play. We can’t play in London because of the GLC, the Greater London Council, who won’t have any punk bands because it threatens the morality of the children or something stupid like that. [Of course, since this conversation the Damned have been playing in major halls in London and in all of England – BK, 1977.]

 

Bernie: Do you have a favorite band that you like?      

Captain: Yeah, sure. My favorite band is the Sweet and Abba and…

Kid in CBGB’s: Whadda ya think of the Ramones?      

Captain: I like them but they’re not my favorite band. I like Gary Glitter, people like that.

 

Bernie: Have a favorite British New Wave band?

Captain: Yeah… Ever hear of a group called Chelsea?

 

Bernie: Yeah… What about this group called Eater?

Captain: Eater are young kids. I like Eater ‘cause they’re young kids and they put two fingers up [like saying fuck you – BK, 1977] to their school. They put their two fingers up to the headmaster who don’t want them to do music or anything. They’re working on stage when they should be doing their lessons.

Kid: Hey, are you gonna do “One of the Two” in the second set?

Captain: Yeah, we are…

Kid: Uhh, “Fish”?

Captain: Yeah…

Kid: “Born to Kill”?

Captain: Yeah… My favorite.

Kid: “Stab Your Back”?

Captain: Yeah…

Kid: Then you’re gonna do the rest of the album?

Captain: Yeah, all the rest of the album.

 

Bernie: Got any future singles planned?

Captain: Well, I’ve got a song I’ve written, but we haven’t done it yet on stage. The first song I’ve ever written for the group.

 

Bernie: What’s it called?

Captain: I haven’t got a name for it yet. It’s all about normal things like how fuckin’ materialistic the world is and all that shit, ya’know? Like we don’t usually do political songs as you probably know, and my song isn’t political, it’s just about how the media in one form or another, i.e., either television, newspaper or anything like that, molds and brainwashes people. It’s like non-stop propaganda and the masses don’t realize just what mucks they’re taken for. Now, you tell me, if there’s 5-1/2 million people in Britain, how can they have 1-1/2 million people unemployed who don’t kick up fuckin’ hell about it? All the people I’m friends with are unemployed now. We were all unemployed when the Damned formed, ya’know? I was unemployed for two years.

 

Bernie: What do you think of what you’ve seen of America so far [being basically New York City]?

Captain: I love it. I’ve only experienced it in one other place: Edinburgh, Scotland. Like when I went to Edinburgh I was knocked out by the people, by how so over the top nice the people were. Like in London, they’re all poseurs, ya’know? When you talk to a poseur in London they’re all “cool” and all. They’re into their pose. They’re into status, right? By status I mean one person is high up on the status thing than another person ‘cause they’re either a journalist or a rock star or a rock promoter or something in the music industry. There’s so many people like that in London. They come to our concerts, they go to other concerts and you see them there. They make you sick, ‘cos they have nothing to do what I think is honest and real. Like, I don’t know if we’re honest and real, maybe we’re poseurs on a stage; offstage I don’t know.

 

Bernie: What was the trouble you had with being kicked off the Sex Pistols’ tour?

Captain: That was a mix-up. I’ll tell you the true story about that. Starting out, there were four bands on the tour: us, the Pistols, Clash, the Heartbreakers. Pistols topped, us second, Heartbreakers third, Clash fourth. Now, the Pistols needed us on the tour to pull the punters in the seats, ‘cos we’re as big as the Pistols in London and (the rest of) England at the time. At the time, they needed us. Then the Pistols started getting into the press by doing bizarre things like any group does – like swearing on TV, we wouldn’t have done it – or smashing up flower pots in hotels, sticking things out a window, which we do; we’ve done that, it just so happens that the press aren’t there when we do it. Like maybe they were conscious acts, maybe they weren’t. They got a very, very shrewd manager who I respect tremendously, Malcolm McLaren [d. 2010 – RBF, 2015]. He used to be my manager. And I know how clever the geezer is and I know how he’s a genius ‘cos he’s made the Sex Pistols the biggest, most popular thing in the whole world. I mean, who do you wanna see? You wanna see the Sex Pistols. So do I, I’d love to see them. But that was before the controversy, so they needed us. There were 3,500 seat halls and they couldn’t fill that.  Sex Pistols could get about 500, we could get about 500; they needed us. So they got all that publicity, front pages for about a week in all the British daily press, so they didn’t need us anymore. Also, the fact that we’re sort of a hot band and we’re better musicians, anyway. They’re good because they got a real good attitude, you know? I mean they really don’t care. I don’t think we care, but they really don’t care, you know? In fact, they’re real chaos. When they’re good, they’re great. In fact, the worse they are the better it is to watch ‘em. Incredible. Like, we played one gig with them, we blew ‘em offstage completely; we were on the tour then. I think we blew ‘em offstage anyway, and they were getting booed off. So they didn’t need us anymore, we were too good to play before them so they said, “No, you can’t play with us.” Also, the fact that we agreed to do the gig like you said. [Meaning that they would do a demonstration of their set before a local council so that the council would let the concert go on. The other groups refused to do that. So that just about cinched the Damned getting thrown off the first – and possibly last? – Sex Pistols UK tour – BK, 1977.] But we had a bomber manager at the time – he’s not our present manager – called Rick Rodgers, and it blew the whole thing for us. It cost £2,000 to get on the tour, so we lost £2,000. That’s why we’re very poor. We’re selling a lot of records, but it costs money to play gigs. We just done a tour with Marc Bolan & T. Rex we lost £1,000 on. We’re losing a £1,000 coming over here. We lost £2,000 on the Sex Pistols tour and that’s wiped out anything we’ve earned from the album.

 

Bernie: There was a band called SS Something…

Captain: London SS.

 

Bernie: Yeah. Who of the band was in that?

Captain: Brian [James], the guitarist, Rat [Scabies] on drums, Mick Jones from the Clash, and Tony James of Generation X. And they didn’t like Rat so they threw Rat out, and Brian went with Rat ‘cause Brian liked Rat. Then I got together with the two of them ‘cause I used to work with Rat. I used to be a toilet cleaner with him. It’s an easy job, toilet cleaning. Then we got Dave [Vanian] in. We picked him out of an audience. Not when we were playing but thought that guy was the best, weirdest lookin’ guy we could see.

 



More recent: Vanian and Sensible

Bernie: Was he dressed like he is now, with makeup and all?

Captain: Yeah, he was. And we went up to him and said, “You wanna join our group?” and he said, ”Doin’ what?”  We said, “Singing,” and he said, “But I’ve never sung before,” and we said, “Yes, great, sounds good.”

 

Bernie: He was a gravedigger before, I hear?

Captain: That’s true, really. And I was a toilet cleaner, that’s true.

 

Bernie: Meet a lot of people as a toilet cleaner?

Captain: I cleaned toilets in a concert hall, so I met people like Glen Campbell and what’s-his-name, Bert Kampfert [d. 1980 – RBF, 2015], and all shitty people like that; and Mrs. Mills [aka Gladys Mills, British singer, d. 1978 – RBF, 2015]. And just a load of really different people. Wrestlers, boxers, all that lot. Really interesting. We got sacked.

 

Bernie: Are you gonna do “Singalonga Scabies”?

Captain: No, we’re not gonna do that. Have you heard that?

 

Bernie: Yeah, it’s really good.

Captain: It was my idea. Why are you taping this?

 

Bernie: We’re from a fanzine here, Big Star.”

Captain: Send us a copy.

 

Bernie: Sure. See ya.

THE GIZMOS: Quims, Queens, Teens and Screens

Interview text © 1977 by Lincoln D. Kirk;
RBF intro © 2012 by Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

The following article about the Gizmos was originally published in Big Star magazine, issue #1, dated May 1977. It was conducted by music historian Lincoln D. Kirk (who wrote for FFanzeen as well), and reprinted here with the writer and publisher’s kind permission. Text added by me in 2012 is in [brackets].

In their day, the multi-peopled Gizmos were as revolutionary as many of their idols, such as the MC5, KISS, and possibly the Stooges. Oh, they may not have had the chops of those bands, but that is part of what made them the enfant terrible of the Midwest in general, Bloomington, IN specifically.

This article is definitely a piece of its time, and certainly not current PC. The Gizmos were not the only group to write salacious songs, and are in a noble group such as the Angry Samoans, or even W/Jayne County, but the ‘Mos were among the first in the indie recording world of the mid-‘70s. And that they came from the middle of the Bible belt makes it all the more intriguing. Looking back, a lot of this material is cringe-worthy, with comments that would now be considered misogynist, racist, homophobic, and even anti-Semitic, but much of it was done in the ignorance of youth (note that this was years before punks were wearing swastikas) and a twisted sense of humor. But peeking at this material through 2012 social eyes is like reading Kate’s speech at the end of The Taming of the Shrew by way of that same lens. Even Victor Hugo and Charlotte Brontë came out with some doozie questionable lines by today’s standards, and the Dr. Doolittle books and Bugs Bunny cartoons were full of racist material. No, I’m not making excuses, but I also know that some ex-members of the Gizmos look back and wince at some of these lyrics as well.

The entire Gizmos catalog is currently available from gulcher.gemm.com. – RBF, 2012

Introduction: Gizmos Invade Dunkirk

April 6, 1976, was a pretty hectic day all around. So a bit of chamber music seemed like a good way to inject some sanity into my tired body and soul. Melos Trio, Diers Recital Hall, Fredonia State – excellent recitals, especially the Beethoven. Nonetheless, arrival home at 10:30 PM (after a half-hearted and unsuccessful attempt at hustling my buddy’s fiancée – not that I was in any condition to do much with her anyway; the day was that hectic) found me ready to drop in my tracks.

Walk in the door, ready to force myself upstairs to my room, when my mother stops me in the hallway. “There’s a couple of fellows here to see you.” So I drag myself into the living room, spot two dandies I’d never laid eyes on before, and figure they must be long-lost cousins or something. The grinning, red-headed Prince Valiant who looked like an oversized John Denver (his partner looked too rock-star cool to pin down so specifically) twangs out in his thickly accented, molasses-in-January Alabama drawl, “Ah’m Eddie Flaw’rs and this here’s Kin Hah-lun.” Or maybe it was Ken Highland who introduced Eddie Flowers. Remember, I was so knocked out from sheer fatigue (and so, it turns out, was Eddie) that my memory’s a bit hazy. Put it this way – from Beethoven to Highland is a greater culture shock than any mere mortal can be expected to absorb!

It turns out that Eddie and Ken had been entertaining my mother and grandparents for about a half-hour before I stumbled home. Well, actually, Ken had done the entertaining; a High-Energy Highland is as garrulous as Eddie (leading contender for the 1976 Calvin Coolidge Memorial Trophy) is silent; Eddie communicates by grinning. I ask you: how many of you have had real live rock stars in your very own home? Of course, Eddie and Ken weren’t rock stars yet (are they now?). They were both merely two long-haired civilians without a record on the market, like any two people reading this.

The next three hours or so are exceedingly difficult to sort out in my brain. I probably should have scribbled down notes knowing that someday I’d take up Ken’s suggestion to commit their visit to paper, but my yawning cerebral cells and shot nerves would have forbidden my mind and hand to coordinate properly. So all that’s left is impressions; some very bizarre ones, but impressions nonetheless.

The impression that’s relevant here (as if anything I’ve said so far is relevant) concerns a cassette Eddie and Ken tried to get me to listen to. The Gizmos, Ken said. Gizmos? The name didn’t mean a thing, but I figured it was some hot new Columbia band like Aerosmith / Dictators / BOC / whatever. In any case, here we are at Eddie’s car parked up a few houses from mine, ransacking the back seat for a huge crate of LPs I was about to get my pick of, when the chilly Lincoln Avenue midnight (and, like most Dunkirk neighborhoods on a spring weekend Lincoln Ave. is almost always mausoleum quiet) was suddenly shattered by the hard smash of wild, mental-jumping guitars and frantic singing, at an obnoxiously loud volume. “Hey, you guys, better turn that thing down. This is a respectable neighborhood!” Thank goodness I wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics or I’d have had a coronary right there in the street! [Dunkirk is a small town in western New York State, southwest of Buffalo and near the shore of Lake Erie. – RBF, 2012]

To be honest, I don’t remember actually listening to that tape, even after it was turned down and even with Ken prodding me for an opinion. I suppose I mumbled something really critic-heavy like, “That seems pretty good” or maybe, “It’s not bad.” I don’t really know now (if I knew then!). When I think of the journalistic coup I blew, I’m virtually heartbroken (slight hyperbole). Here I was, probably the first bigshot-reviewer-type (discounting those directly involved with the project) to hear the Gizmos, and I was too dragged-out and dog-tired to know the difference!

4 x 8: The Rolling Gizmos

And who, you may ask (that is, if you’ve been hibernating or have spent the last six months in a monastery) are the Gizmos? I grew up thinking a “gizmo” was somewhere between a “gadget” and a “whatchamacallit”; a mechanical contrivance the name and / or specific use of which was unknown to the person using or perusing the object. According to Gulcher Records’ president, Bob “Mr. Bear” Richert, “’gizmos’ = stooge / squirrel / Yankee Doodle Dandy / loner / outcast / gimp / etc.” But that definition is so broad it can be applied to nearly every man, woman and child in North American (except maybe Karl Malden). These Gizmos are a savage-young, brutish, doltish, zippy little octet with a four-song 33-1/3 EP (at one time it would has been classified a 7” LP, the term EP being reserved for extended-play 45s; however, producer Bear blanches when the term LP is used in connection with his product, as he’s afraid prospective purchasers will expect a 12” model, which it ain’t) that says it all (a useful advertising slogan that doesn’t mean a thing, but impresses the feeble-minded).

Any musical legitimacy the Gizmos may possess grew out of a band from the northern Indiana community of Highland (no relation to Ken Highland; indeed, it’s one of the few municipalities in the U.S. of A. where Ken has not resided) called Cerberus. At the time of the EP’s recording (March ’76), Cerberus consisted of Rich Coffee (no connection with Coffee-Rich), now 19, on guitar and vocals; Rick Czajka, 17, on guitar; Dave Sulak, 20, on bass; and Jim DeVries, also 20, on drums. Aside from DeVries, who played with polka bands (great training for keeping a steady beat, mixing accents and the like) in the Hammond, Indiana, area, none of the Cerberi had any real musical experience before mutating into the Gizmos.

This mutation came about in a manner perhaps unique even in the annals of rock’n’roll history. Ken Highland, 20, famed fanzine editor (Rock On! and Trash) and writer (Gulcher, and its earlier incarnations Beyond Our Control and the WIUS Tip Sheet) struck up a correspondence with Rich Coffee’s girlfriend in Highland, IN, as a result of her reading Trash. About a year later, Ken (already a fledgling rock’n’roll guitarist and songwriter) pulled up stakes again, moving from Brockport, New York, to Bloomington, home of Bob Richert’s Gulcher publishing / recording empire, the scourge of Southern Indiana. In late ’75, Ken took a sabbatical northward to Highland to meet his correspondent and, while there, jammed with Cerberus (this was some time before DeVries joined the band). In March of ’76, when producer Richert decided it was time to unleash Ken Highland’s concepts on vinyl, Cerberus was the natural choice to become the instrumental portion of the Gizmos.

Three more Gizmos were added as lead and backing vocalists. The legendary Eddie / Eddy / Edde Stenson (take your pick) Flowers, 19, the personification of the rock fanzine sprit in print (although a surprisingly slow-moving, slow-drawling good-ole boy in the flesh) journeyed north from Jackson, Alabama, to Bloomington (which he calls the “hippy-homo haven of the Midwest”). Two other Gizmos were recruited from the Indiana University student body (IU is, of course, located in Bloomington; you didn’t think all the hippies and “homos” congregated there by accident, did you?): Ted Niemiec, 19, is the black lipstick, black nail polish, white-faced “just a regular dude” of the band and co-author of the Gizmos’ greatest hit, “Muff Divin’,” with Davey Medlock, who is, at 21, the senior Gizmo and a college DJ. The Gizmos’ producer and ninth star, Bob Richert, is in his late 20s, comes from Attica, NY, and hopes to see his publication become “the Creem of the ‘80s.” So much for vaunted ambitions.

What do they sound like? Remember the Sonics’ “Psycho”? Divorce it from its “Louie Louie” spasto-rhythm blend in unequal amounts of early Stones, Velvets, Shadows of Knight, Stooges, Barbarians, Chuck Berry, Yardbirds, and hot-flash boogie rave-ups, and then and only then will you catch a glimpse of what all the Top Critics are shouting about. (Case in point: the Gizmos even managed to get a certain Richard Meltzer [who would later form the Angry Samoans] to write the EP’s liner notes.) If you dig wild, two-note guitar solos (remember, it’s not the quantity of notes that counts, it’s the quality, and Highland picks high-quality notes!), chaotic group-shout vocals (and that, too, is a compliment; who needs punk vocals that sound prissy?), over not-quite-organized yet steamrollin’ accompaniment (neither inept nor particularly ept, either), then… [at this point, Kirk directs the reader to Gulcher’s then-address; the new e-address is above in my introduction].

”Kick Out the Giz-jams” – E. Flowers

Hmmm, I haven’t even mentioned the Gizmos’ pornographic lyrics yet – that’s what’s attracting so much of the attention the band has been getting. The aforementioned “Muff Divin’” – aside from its obvious and fully intended offensiveness to women (ardent feminists should sit this one out; they’ve got enough to worry about without these eight nerds lousing up their lives even further) – is the most inventive, most humorous, most perverted, and most educational (Paul Simon might have called it “50 Ways to Lick Her Pussy”) porn-rocker ever written. Really clever stuff, “Muff Divin’” is an instruction guide to the kinkier aspects of cunnilingus, involving the use of such common household items as peanut butter, ice cubes (“muff cocktail on the rocks”), Alka-Seltzer, shower nozzles, and the like. None of this fruit-scented love-cream aphrodisiac nonsense; this song is as raunch-filled lyrically as it is musically. Written by Highland, Niemiec (who sings lead), and Cliff Wolff (a friend of Niemiec’s who lives in Willkie South, the IU dorm which figures prominently in the lyrics), “Muff Divin’” alone is worth the $2.50. Indeed, it was “Muff Divin’” which delayed the EP’s release, as the original pressing plant (a religious-oriented outfit) refused to handle it after sitting on the masters for a couple of months.

The other three songs are less hardcore pornish, but far removed from the WYSI playlist, nonetheless. “That’s Cool (I Respect You More),” a Stones-type which is the only less-than-up-tempo-track, was written and sung by Highland from personal experience, as he tries to seduce a teen lovely who refuses to “go all the way” (now, if Ken were Eric Carmen…). “Mean Screen” (“Dick Clark oughta be my poppa”), written by Ken and Eddie (who sings it) from an original poem by fanzine writer Scott Duhamel, concerns masturbation while watching American Bandstand. “Chicken Queen,” the grand finale, is an “inside joke” of sorts. How many bands do you know with the gall to insult and embarrass their own producer on their first recording?: “Well, five-to-eight of hairy bear / Some don’t know and the rest don’t care / Boys and girls, inbetween / You’re all fine to the Chicken Queen.” It so happens that Bear is a friend of mine, and he never made any improper advances my way, so I won’t get involved with the question of the song’s accuracy (even thought the facts are well-known!). Written by Eddie (with embellishments by Ken and Dave Sulak) and sung by Ken, “Chicken Queen” includes some honest-to-goodness musicianship in Rick Czajka’s clean, neo-Santana guitar on the fade (which conjures up Chuck Berry’s “Little Queenie” and “Johnny B. Goode”: “Go, Queenie, go-go-go”), following an ingenious rap featuring Rich as the Queen and Ted as the Chicken, in a parody of the Doors’ “The End” (“The bear awoke before dawn… / He walked on down to the chicken coop and he said, ‘Chicken?’ / ‘Yes, Queen?’ / ‘Chicken?’ / ‘Yes, Queen?’ / ‘I want to…’,” etc.). The EP’s engineer, Richard Fish, appended a subtitle, “The (Ass) End,” to the track; I could say that this subtitle was pregnant with meaning, but reproduction of the species has nothing to do with it!

The Gizmos were originally intended as a one-shot project, existing on and around March 20, 1976 (the date of recording). But stardom, even on the fanzine level, brings its pressures – public demand for an encore being one of them. So the Gizmos reunited for a second round of rock’n’roll lunacy. In April, they reformed for a double-EP / triple- / album (which format it will eventually assume has yet to be decided; albums are less cumbersome, Bear) and their first live appearances. There’s at least one change as Rick Czajka has quit Cerberus (which has since changed its name to Loner) to become a folkie. When not Gizmoing, Ken Highland admitted he is in the United States Marine Corps (a family tradition), Stenson Flowers is in Alabama, Messrs. Coffee and Sulak are in Chicago, and Jim DeVries was busted on a dope charge, while Ted Niemiec and Davey Medlock remain in Bloomington.

Upcoming on future Gizmos vinyl you should hear such instant classics as “Gimme Back My Foreskin,” “Human Garbage Disposal,” “Amerika First,” and “Pumpin’ to Playboy” (which I have a tape of; believe me, it’s a killer, built around an irresistible Iberian guitar riff).

Gulcher Records may also issue an album by Loner without Ken, Eddie, Ted and Davey; and possibly one by Bob Richert’s answers to the Runaways and the Quick, a group of 13-to-15-year-olds called the Chickens (I’m not so sure I believe that one, myself…).

Now, would you like to know about MX-80 Sound?

[I saw a later version of the Gizmos play at Max’s Kansas City in the ‘70s, which was released as a live EP titled, Never Mind the Sex Pistols, Here are the Gizmos. It was a wild and hairy show.]

Here is some “Where are they now” info:
Rich Coffee: Was in the bands Thee Fourgiven, the Unclaimed, and the Tommyknockers.
Eddie Flowers: Now in the experimental, lo-fi, noise rock band Crawlspace; CDs available from Gulcher.
Ken Highland: A long and varied musical career, mostly in the Boston Area, including quite a large number of bands that he has fronted, such as the Hopelessly Obscure and Kenne Highland and his Vatican Sex Kittens. Still touring after all these years. Nice guy, too.