…That was no lady, that was DIVINE [1983 Interview]

Text by Julia Masi / FFanzeen fanzine, 1983
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

This interview was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #11, dated 1983. It was conducted and written by our Managing Editor, Julia Masi.

Perhaps Divine (d. 1988) is where my respect for Drag Queens began. Though, to be fair, calling Divine a drag queen is not inclusive enough, as she was so much larger than that (pun not intended), including having some hit recordings and being a media darling.  Over the years, there have been a number of books about Divine (including one by his mother), a documentary, and even spoofs.

What I find interesting, in McLuhan-esque rear view mirror thinking is that throughout the article below, Divine is referred to as “him.” To be fair, even John Waters uses the male pronoun in discussing Divine to this day. For myself, I have always called Divine “her” and his male counterpart, Harris Glenn Milstead as “he,” as seems to be the current way to differentiate between the actor and the “persona.” I never met Divine, but did once serve ice cream to Harris in the very hot summer of 1976 while working at a long-gone West Village Baskin-Robbins on 7 Ave South and Grove St. (there is a restaurant there now). A friend  who also worked there, at another time after I left, got his autograph (as Divine) and gave it to me. Yes, I still have it.  – RBF, 2015

Capturing the title of “The Most Beautiful Woman in the World” is no easy feat, especially if you happen to be a 300 lb. gentleman. But as the comic sex symbol in most of John Waters’ satirical films, Divine was defined his own overstated sense of drag chic that has been immortalized in a paper doll book, Simply Divine (St. Martin’s Press), and helped him land a contract with O Records.

His three singles, “Night of Love,” “Shoot Your Shot” and “Shake It Up” have provided Divine with yet another way to win fans and influence critics. Virtually unheard on American radio, Divine’s voice has been saturating the European airwaves for the past year. His move into music began when record producer Bobby Orlando started searching for new talent. “He was a fan,” recalls Divine, “and he thought I had the charisma and stage presence to put a song across.” At first Divine was reluctant. “I was told for so many years that I couldn’t sing, that I started believing it.”

So he made an agreement with Orlando that he would try his hand at recording, but if the demos didn’t turn out to his linking, they’d just scrap them. First they recorded “Night of Love,” which turned out better than they expected. It hit the European charts quickly and stayed there for 22 weeks. Shortly afterward, “Shoot Your Shot” was released to similar reception. Last Fall, Divine was asked to tour Europe because he had a record in the Top Ten, when “Night of Love” suddenly shot up to the No. 3 spot. His latest single, “Shake It Up,” went from nowhere to No. 15 the first week it was released. “It was quite exciting. It was like being the Beatles or Elton John. I couldn’t believe the popularity. They [the live audiences] just went crazy.”

Back on Divine’s home turf, Key West, Florida, he’s best known as a cult move star. His more memorable roles in Pink Flamingos (1972), and the first venture into odorama, Polyester (1981), brought him a wider audience and his first taste of mass-appeal stardom. It also helped cement a bond of loyalty with John Waters.

He called Waters “a realist,” insisting that “he cannot cheat his audience. If something is supposed to happen, it does. If it looks like something is going on in the film, I can tell you it actually does. If someone is supposed to set themselves on fire, then John has found some fool who will do it.

“He’s interested in his career and he’s interested in my career, too. He’s interested in Divine. I’m very lucky to have that. To have somebody that you can really trust.” He feels that their mutual admiration comes across on the screen. That’s one of the reasons the films are so successful. I can take his written word and give it life. I know exactly what he wants without asking. I’d always work for John. The only reason I wasn’t in Desperate Living (1977),” he says almost apologetically, “is that I was doing a play [Women Behind Bars – RBF, 1983].” That play toured Europe and gave Divine his first shot at something he’s always wanted, “to become an international star. I’d wanted to go to Europe. I’d never been out of the States. And the films hadn’t been released there until just recently. To this day, I never know whether I made the right decision. Maybe I did the right thing. I’ll never know, but it all worked out.”

He compares his relationship with Waters to the old movie studios of the 1940s. “They made your career. They got you work – they could ruin you, but they kept you working.” He praises Waters because, “He actually created a star of sorts; in my case out of a complete unknown without he the major backing of a major studio, and without the money.

“They’re very sophisticated films. Some of the new movies that are coming out look like they were made by fools. I shouldn’t say that. I haven’t actually seen them, but the ads and things are enough to keep me away. Of course, the ads for Polyester weren’t that good. But what I’m trying to say is that John deserves more credit for his writing. John’s writing is just so –! I can read [other people’s] scripts and not know whether or not I’m supposed to laugh. I read his scripts and be hysterical.”

His favorite role to date is Dawn Davenport in Female Trouble (1974). “It was fun because it kept changing. It was her whole life story, which allows for different looks and different costumers, which allows for more fun. I’m not saying it was my best part. I was at my best in Polyester, because it was a completely different kind of role for me. It was the exact opposite of glamour and everything that the Divine character stands for.” Film critics also found this to be his best role, and the first where they actually took notice of his acting expertise. “I’ve always been typecast. They say, ‘Oh, well, here’s Divine. All Divine can do is play fat women with big teased hair and tight dresses.’”

Unlike most leading “ladies” he does not mind being called sexy. “I try to be at times. There are all sides to the character.” What he feels makes the character sexy are “the size, the volume, the attitude. You’ve’ got to think sexy to be sexy. To do it, you’ve got to be it. It’s easy to get into.” But the essence of Divine’s sensuality is “the sense of humor. It’s not like,” he lets out a deep animal-like pant, “a maniac who jumps on anything – a fencepost. The sexiest thing about a woman is a sense of humor.

“I’m real, I think. The character makes people laugh. There are no holds barred, says whatever comes out of the mouth. Nonchalant. I think more people would like to be like that.”

The matinee goddess that Divine most admires id Elizabeth Taylor (d. 2011), who he has idolized since he was a child. “I met her at the Roxy Roller Rink in New York City, at a party for her daughter. It was about a year-and-a-half, or two years ago. I don’t know what she thought of me. It was like looking in a mirror.”

Last Winter, Hollywood excreted Tootsie (1982) and began flirting with the ideas of transvestite heroes. More commercial film scripts are called for actors to get dressed up, a trend that is very upsetting to Divine. “They’re trying to ruin my business. He (Dustin Hoffman) didn’t wear one pretty dress in the movie. With their budget!

“And now I hear that John Travolta is dressing up like a girl [I’m not sure to what Divine is referring, but Travolta actually played the Divine role in the musical remake of Hairspray in 2007 – RBF, 2015]. He can’t need the money that badly. Come on, boys! I could understand the feminist movement and feminist consciousness, but there’s no reason for our sex idols to dress up like girls.

“I honestly find it shocking. I’m here and I could do it. Maybe I’m just jealous. It sounds like sour grapes, doesn’t it? But nothing really happens in that movie (Tootsie). At least with a John Waters film, for one-and-a half hours you can’t stop laughing. It’s action-packed. That’s what movies are all about.

“I guess Richard Burton will be dressing up next,” he muses. “I’ll have to play men’s parts. I guess women will have to play men’s parts. I guess I’ll be out of work.”

Unemployment is hardly an immediate threat for Divine. After another brief tour of Europe this Summer, he’ll begin recording an album [My First Album – RBF, 2015]. And there’s a new John Waters film in the planning stage (Hairspray, released in 1988 – RBF, 2015]. “I can’t tell you anything about that except it’s his best one yet. That could start any time. I’m up for three other films, but you never know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

 

Bonus video (John Candy as Divine on SCTV):

DVD Review: The Advocate for Fagdom

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

The Advocate for Fagdom

Directed by Angelique Bosio
Le Chat Qui Fume
91 minutes, 2011
www.thedavocateforfagdom.com
www.lechatquifume.com    
www.mvdvisual.com

Usually it’s the second wave that is more adamant, and more militant that what preceded. For punk, the British scene blasted through the American predecessor; in feminism, the second wave presented the angry side with the likes of Andrea Dworkin as its poster child. For transgressive media, the roots of this documentary had its nascent rising with filmmakers Richard Kern and John Waters, and the No Wave movement of Teenage Jesus and the Jerks and the Contortions.

From the foundation of transgression came Bruce LaBruce, blasting out of the furnace of a place that started building by breaking through fear, and into the face of society in a way no one could have predicted. In many ways, one of the focal points that made LaBruce such a powerful force was his consolidation of many difference scenes and genres, and laser focusing them out through a queer prism.

Hailing from Ontario, LaBruce started making small films with gay themes that were grainy 8mm, which somehow made enough of an impact that Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain (from whose quote the title of this film was taken) was known to have said that LaBruce was his favorite filmmaker. LaBruce also produced a Queercore (aka Homocore) fanzine in the ‘80s that promoted a scene that didn’t exist, with enough energy that an outburst of the style arose from it. A hardcore fan (or, as is commented here, a fan of hardcore boys), he wanted to acknowledge a level of queerness that was in the music that was not being noted because of the scene’s violently homophobic element. At this point, I believe it would have been good to interview members of the Pansy Division , or MDC (Millions of Dead Cops, or Multi-Death Corporation), who could tell stories about being on the road with some of those gay-bashing bands (e.g., Bad Brains).

However, it is his cinema of transgression that has made Bruce LaBruce not just famous, but infamous. They look a bit like real-life aspects of ‘60s Warhol mixed with the bizzaro unexpectedness of John Waters. Using both script and improvisation, LaBruce shows a world of hustlers, S&M/B&D, and a copious amounts of graphic M2M sex; it should be noted here that he also shocks his regular audience by having W2W, on which some of the audience walked out). And, please note, that this documentary has some of these clips included in this doc, so if you are a right wing religious nut, you may not want to watch this or it may recruit you to making the choice to go to the other side. Yes, that’s sarcasm.

Okay, back to the serious review. As someone points out in the doc, this isn’t just anti- to be different: having studied deconstructionism via Foucault and Derrida, he uses it to express his agenda, in what seems like crude attempts, but is actually quite astute. And as Waters says in one of the interviews, LaBruce also having fun (Waters tells quite the amusing and telling anecdote about when he stayed at Waters’ house).

I believe it’s true, as is noted on the DVD, that when you make a hardcore gay porno film – especially if you star in it like LaBruce has done numerous times – it probably is harder to get funding to reach the level of Waters or especially Gus van Sant. Even Richard Kern, who directed a number of violent and (straight) experimental films is acknowledged as an auteur and somewhat respected on a cult level, probably will never reach the A-Line. That being said, there probably would be no Shortbus (2006) or arguably The Brown Bunny (2003) without people like Bruce LaBruce breaking the barriers on the micro-budget end. And I would like to point out that the directors of both those films, John Cameron Mitchell and Vincent Gallo, respectively, have not done much feature-length film directing since those releases over a decade ago. For LaBruce, however, his biggest budgeted film came after this documentary.

The third act here is an in-depth look at his insertion of – er – insertions, blow-jobs, and what makes this art with some pornographic images rather than being dismissed as porn. This is, to me, an important topic that deserves to be discussed, especially in today’s world of right wing religious fanatics around the world, and in the West, who are intent on going Biblical and - Koranical? - on all things gay, explicit or a quarter of an inch beyond the ken of their interpretation of “moral.”

But that is not what makes LaBruce so interesting to me. What I find fascinating is a two edged sword that he wields so sharply and intensely. On the one hand, he is bringing homosexuality to the forefront in a way none of the other directors have before, even with Waters’ touchstone being the amazing Divine (d. 1988), mixing transgression with usually leftist politics.

At the same time, he holds up the gay lifestyle to the queer population themselves, showing their own weaknesses by focusing on explicit lesbian sex in The Raspberry Reich (2004), or cultural and material consumerist mentality (borrowing Romero’s zombie = consumer from Dawn of the Dead [1979]) in Otto; or, Up With Dead People (2008). By wagging his finger at both sides, his statement becomes all the louder.

Angelique Bosio keeps a very balanced film going here. There are clips from many of LaBruce’s films, including the explicit scenes; we see the action from his public photographic art performances, and interviews with most of the writers and actors in this film to talk about both LaBruce what it means to them to be involved in a hotspot political movement. There are also a number of directors, including those mentioned beforehand, like Waters, Kern and van Sant, writers such as Bruce Benderson, and even performance artists, including Vaginal Davis. Susanne Sachsse also gives some pointed feminist notes as being one of the few females in the group.

The world is swinging ever further to the Right, and it’s good to have a strong voice pulling in the opposite direction in a way that is so extreme to make its point. This film is both exquisite and at times anguish to watch, which is to say, that it represents Bruce LaBruce and for what he stands. This should be in Gender, Queer and Film Studies departments/programs around the world.

 

Trailer HERE

 

Bonus video HERE

DVD Review: Andy Warhol’s Bad

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

Andy Warhol’s Bad
Directed by Jed Johnson
Cheezy Flicks, 1977
105 minutes, USD $7.95
cheezyflicks.com
MVDvisual.com

Even though he probably didn’t really have anything to with the films other than being willing to publicize it by having his moniker attached, Andy Warhol apparently loved titles with one word following his name, such as Andy Warhol’s Dracula, Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein, Andy Warhol’s Trash, Andy Warhol’s Flesh, and Andy Warhol’s Heat.

Most of the films had a strong amateur quality to them, which actually made them feel all the more gritty and real, rather than taking away from it. Thus is the case with the film at hand, Andy Warhol’s Bad.

The basic plot revolves around Hazel Akins, played in middle age by Carroll Baker (who sizzled up the screen with the likes of Baby Doll), a Queens, NY, cosmetologist (i.e., does electrolysis from her home) is a crime pimp. She takes orders from regular customers on transgressions upon request (e.g., the opening scene of Cyrinda Foxe trashing a lunch counter’s bathroom). She only deals with women criminals who get paid and then give her a large cut that she calls “rent.” That is until…

Enter Perry King as L.T., a grifter drifter who manages to sweet talk Hazel into letting him stay at her house until he hears from the person hiring him; the only reason she agrees is because of the large share of her cut. Y’see, Hazel is greedy. Even though a cop is hanging around (Charles McGregor, of blaxploitation and Blazing Saddles fame) asking for a name to arrest so he can look good, she won’t turn anyone in simply because of she doesn’t want to lose the commission, not because of good will.

I knew I was going to like this film from the first piece of dialog said by King. He walks into a lunch counter (yes, the same one as mentioned above) and he says, “Coffee. Light and sweet.” I haven’t heard those words since moving to Canada. For those up here who don’t now, it’s the original “double-double.”

In fact, one of the great joys of this film is the harsh Brooklyn and Queens accents, which come naturally, unlike most of what you hear in the media (e.g., CSI: NY). It’s just brutal happiness. Rosie O’Donnell, when she was much younger and doing stand-up, posited that no one would have listened to Einstein if he had a New York accent. But I digress….

Morals are a bit hard to come by with this crowd, as the range goes from casually reading other peoples mail and snipping off fingers for personal pleasure (and then putting it in someone’s mustard jar), to assaults on pets, autistic kids and infants. Oh, John Waters is not the only one holding up a Filthiest Family (albeit no one here eats dog crap). As Mary, the screechy daughter-in-law, played by the wonderful and underrated Susan Tyrrell states, “People are so sick; the more you see ‘em, the sicker they look.” Sing it, sister.

Among the strangest inhabitants of this world are real life Brooklynite siblings, Geraldine and Marie Smith, who also play sisters in the film. It’s a joy to hear them talk, whatever they’re saying. One’s a pyro who sets fire to a movie theater and the very car they just robbed as they tool around.

While Warhol isn’t in the film, his presence is still subtly felt by some of his Factory crowd appearing in the film, such as Brigid Polk (as an insaniac who orders the doggie do-in) and Kitty Bruce (Lenny’s little girl).

Considering how shrill the film is, and how vile the storyline, the picture actually holds together better over time than early Waters’ has, becoming camp in a different way: AW’s Bad is more urban gritty in a Serpico or Taxi Driver kind of way, whereas Waters’ – whose films I truly enjoy – are more suburban mythical. And, may I add as a note rather than an insult, the people here are much better actors than those who appear in the early Baltimore auteur’s work (apologies to Divine, RIP).

AW’s Bad reminded me of other low-budget films of an earlier time, such as Lady in a Cage, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and even Arch Hall Jr.’s The Sadist. It’s certainly more shocking in a humanist way, than some of the other Andy Warhol-related releases, such as Frankenstein or Dracula, and the film is certainly better directed by Jed Johnson than, say, Heat or Trash (mind you, I haven’t seen those latter two films since the ‘70s, so I’m relying on a 30-year-old memory…jeez, I’m old…).

This is not a feel good movie in any kind of way, but it is sharp, in part by the sheer will and emotion of its actors, even when they’re being cool and suave like King, or cold and calculating like Baker. But it’s the others who have a scene or two that really make the picture into the true horror show that it is. Not for the squeamish at heart, but a wondrous slice of life of the truly bad.

DVD Review: Faces of Schlock

Text © Richard Gary/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Faces of Schlock
Various directors
Independent Entertainment, 2009
~90 minutes, USD $14.95
Alternativecinema.com
Freakproductions.net
MVDvisual.com

Grossly speaking (pun unintended), independent cinema is usually represented in three genres: first is the documentary, and these are usually high class and low cost (e.g., Michael Moore’s stuff, and so many others worth watching); second is comedy, and those are usually Porky’s level fart jokes and mostly a waste of time; and lastly is horror, which runs from astoundingly good (e.g., The Evil Dead series, Re-Animator) to just plain unwatchable (too many to mention).

However, I would rather watch the horror indies more often than the majors, because the larger studios have so much to lose and tend to take themselves waaaay too seriously, whereas the indies tend to have a clear head about who they are and what they are doing. Usually their products are done on the fly, with limited budgets and effects that are more wha? than whoa! (if I am making any sense at all).

The plurality of this release’s title is reflected in the four short films that make up the bulk of the DVD, organized by Henrique Couto. All the directors, producers, and other cast / staff either share each other’s services, or are friends.

First up is “Blood Witch” (written and directed by Andrew Shearer), which I believe is the most nuanced of the four pieces, as far as characters are concerned. Essentially a witch is murdered centuries ago in Spain, and now she has been called back by a goth Satanist-wannabe / sadist-lite who doesn’t truly know what she is doing. The moral question of who of many of the characters are actually evil (including a telemarketer) is a key element here. Countess Samela (referred in the bonus material as “Sam”; this is her only credit on IMDB) plays the wannabe with a churlish grin, even as she is bathing. Monica Puller, as the title character Isabella (other credits include Satan’s House of Yoga, Cannibal Sisters, and Psycho Vixens), plays her role with just the right touch of pathos. The gore effects are effective and not overdone, and the writing is in Twilight Zone morality story mode. A quick shout out to a great nom de acting, Priscilla Lee Press-On; yes, that is her name, not the character.

The second short is “Mike Wuz Here” (produced, edited and directed by Justin Channell), about a not-too-bright ghost named Mike (T.J. Rogers, whose credits include Die and Let Live - that is not a typo) who is haunting the cinema where he was fired, and then hanged himself. The slacker staff know him both when he was a person, and now as a ghost. A new manager is hired (after Mike’s spirit did away with the old one), who is put in charge of this bunch of losers. He decides that he wants Mike out because he is scaring off patrons, hence the theater is losing money. When he tries to “fire” Mike, the spirit enters his body and he starts to do away with the other staff members who agreed he – as a ghost – should be let go. A bit gruesome, of course, but more funny (intentionally) than anything else, such as one usher being tortured by being forced to watch Step Up 3 (his comments are hilarious). This short definitely has its fine moments.

The third was my least favorite of the four, “One Foot in the Grave” (directed by Chris LaMartina), about a dancer played by Sara Cole (other credits are Dead Hunt and Almost Invisible), who loses her foot due to a doctor’s negligence. She seeks revenge via the local witchy woman, Virginia Frank (credits include Grave Mistake), who is actually in cahoots with the slimy doctor (no secret there), portrayed by George Stover (whose awesome credits include a number of early John Water’s films, as well as the likes of Attack of the ’60 Centerfolds, Sleepy Hollow High and Ninjas vs. Vampires). To show you the level of writing here, the foot doctor’s name is – wait for it – Dr. Sholes. Yep, it’s that desperate.

The main tale is saved for last, which is “Slay Ride” (produced and directed by Henrique Couto, who put the whole collection together). The central character, as a spoiled goth girl, is DVD covergirl Ruby LaRocca (who has an impressive list of over 50 credits in 10 years, including Satan’s School for Lust, Spiderbabe, Dr. Horror’s Erotic House of Idiots, Bikini Girls on Dinosaur Planet, An Erotic Werewolf in London, The Lord of the G-String: The Femaleship of the String, Batbabe: The Dark Nightie, and, well you get the idea). She’s the kind who pierces her nipples without anesthetic (we get to see that, even though it’s an effect), while her parents are walking out the door for the weekend. Seems, of course, there’s a killer on the loose, ready to strike her and/or her hyper schoolmate, Debbie (Sandy Behre; only credit). Could it be the guy with the chainsaw next door (a fine turn by the director)? Santa? Who knows, though I figured it out somewhere along the way. Nice effects here, and as with just about the entire film, done with appliances rather than CGI.

And then there is the wraparounds, presented with glee by the hostess with the fangs, Slutpira, a really nice turn by Izzie Harlow, who jumps in and out of character a la Uncle Floyd, to make comments like, “Oh great, another title that’s a pun.” Despite the lengthy fangs they give her, she manages to talk normally, and has a really fine sense of timing. I looked forward to her bits of intro and outro of the short films. Kudos.

There are a lot of bonus features, some good, some whatever. The commentary track is cool, because each segment has its own director, writer, actor, whomever, including the wrap-arounds, so we hear from the – err – minds of each creator on their own pieces. Nice touch. The outtakes and bloopers were mostly fun, though some went on too long, and the music video was, well, tiring. The two clips that seemed way too long were of the premiere night (including lots of footage of “the gang” hanging out and getting drunk before, and hanging around in the lobby of the theater (the one from “Mike Wuz Here”) before and after the showing. There is also a looooong bit revolving around a horror convention that seemed to never end and have no point other than for them to have yet another reason to get drunk.

So skipping most of the extras, I would say this meets the indie needs of a low budget, DIY horror comp, and I actually look forward to seeing more of their work.

Some 1980s Music Worth Revisiting

Text and photos (c) Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

Here are a half dozen songs of differing styles that are worthy of remembering, in a period when much of the mainstream music was somewhat lame. They all emerged in the 1980s, either populist somewhere in the world, cult figures, or who-the-hell? Enjoy, and feel free to add some of your own in the comments.

Hayzee Fantayzee – Shiny Shiny
Honestly, I was not a fan of this style, made more famous by Boy George and his ilk, but HF predates the Jail Boy, who claimed their fashion as his. Led by the exceedingly tall and lanky Jeremy Healy and Kate Garner (I met her once and she was at least a head taller than me), their sound was a mix of pop, reggae and quirk. They also had a hit in their native UK with “John Wayne is Big Leggy,” but I prefer this one, followed by “Sister Friction.” Video prodcer Alan Abramowitz was duly impressed at the time with this particular video and its uise of “wipes,” cutting edge at the time.

Mari Wilson – Beware Boyfriend
Mari Wilson is, musically, what Lilly Allen is trying to be, but failing (despite the latter’s success), and her hair, I’m sure, inspired the rattrap of Amy Wino (who also owes a huge debt to Wilson’s vocal style). Wilson’s blousy blue-eyed soul is engaging, making one want to waves their arms in the air along with the song. There is actually a very funny video that does along with this, but this one is the best I could find. Much more appreciated in her native UK at the time, Wilson just had the right sound at the wrong time. She deserves better.

[Richard Barone, of the Bongos, at the Peppermint Lounge]
The Bongos – Number with Wings
Out of Hoboken, NJ, and the first band to play at Maxwell’s (in an early incarnation), the Bongos were (and occasionally are during semi-frequent reunions) a pop cult hit, as much as cult bands can be. The two men at the front of the group, Richard Barone and James Mastro, are both still local heroes for both their work in this band and as solo artists. Another member of the group, Rob Norris, had been in a nascent version of the A-Bones called the Zantees (which is where I first became aware of him). I saw the Bongos play a couple of times just before their heyday, and they were a fun band to watch. What is the meaning of this song is anyone’s guess, but I just enjoy it for the ride.

Rachel Sweet – Please Mr. Jailer
Rachel Sweet – Then He Kissed Me/Be My Baby
Even though Rachel Sweet was at one point signed to a couple of major labels, Stiff and Columbia, she definitely was not given the credit due, even though she did have one hit with “Everlasting Love,” co-shared with Rex Smith. Like Brenda Lee, she was short and had a voice one could hear a mile away without a mic. And unlike many belters, such as Celine Dion or Kelly Clarkson, Rachel had subtlety in her unique and beautiful voice. While she did the theme to the John Waters’ film Hairspray and had a minor hit with “Voodoo,” I picked two of my favorites of hers that I feel give a feel to what is so attractive about her style. First, is from another Waters’ film, Cry Baby, where she did a Marnie Nixon for Amy Locane, blasting through this powerful blues number, “Please Mr. Jailer.” The second song actually earlier than “Jailer,” and is a medley cover of the girl group classics “Then He Kissed Me” and “Be My Baby.” While the sound quality of the video is off, it shows the range of her voice from soft and sexy to brash and sexy.


Cheepskates – Run Better Run
Without giving any measure to quality or rank of order, during the early ‘80s there were two strata of post-garage bands that would play in New York. The first included bands like the Chesterfield Kings, the Vipers, the Lyres, and the Fuzztones. The second included the likes of the Tryfles, the Outta Place, and the Cheepskates. Of all those bands, the Cheepskates, led by Shane Flaubert, was the most pop-oriented, but lost none of the ‘60s garage sound, thanks to Shane’s excellent farfisa skills. The rest of the band was great, as well. Plus, the drummer then came from my neighborhood and in fact we attended the same high school (but years apart). It was always a pleasure seeing them play. This particular song is arguably their grandest moment. As far as I know, there is no “official” video for it (though the entire song was captured live and shown on Videowave for a garage special, but has not been digitized yet). The clip here is from a later period and well short of complete, but it gives a idea of the strong and hypnotic pull of the song.

[Julie, vocalist of Ja Ja Ja, on the set of Videowave]
Ja Ja Ja – I Am an Animal
I cannot hope to explain the appeal of this song to me; perhaps it is the indie underdog-ness or the sheer cheesiness, but from the first time I saw this after I met the singer when she was interviewed on Videowave, it has stuck with me. The costumes, the sets, the effects, they all come out like a $3 bad dream, and I won’t even begin to go into the hip-hop middle, but the opening lyrics are enjoyable (“I watch the other animals who think they’re not / They look 2:00 / To know if they’re hungry / They’re acting like robots / And because I’m not / They’re getting angry”), Julie’s voice is childlike in a positive way to me, and, well, it’s just so freakin’ weird! This is the only thing I have every heard by Ja Ja Ja.

X-Teens – Change Gotta Come
For an indie band in the early '80s, this video was quite the production. True, the song has absolutely nothing to do with the video, but in those days, the door was wide open and anything was possible. Strongly influenced by films like (and especially) Raiders of the Lost Ark, the band seems to be having a lot of fun acting out some fantasy sequences, searching for the "Speilberg" stone. While I have the album this song came from, I have no idea what happened to the band. One can't help but enjoy this, even with it's hippie-esque, Reagan-era question, "Whatever happened to the love generation?"

Other worthy songs that I would like to add, but cannot find the videos:
Lenny Kaye Connection: I Got a Right
Billy & the Buttons: Whole Fam Damly

This column is dedicated to ‘80's video fan, Alex’s Bookbag.