Interview with Jim Diamond 12/31/03...

Make your own impression of the guy. I think he's a dick, but whatever. To date, this is the only interview I've ever done that's been filed as evidence in a court of law. Take that Pitchfork!
Conducted backstage at the Magic Stick before a Dirtbombs show for use in Everett True's book The White Stripes and the Sound of Mutant Blues.

B: What made you first play guitar and what were you listening to back then?

J: Back when? (laughs) I started listening to rock and roll music in 1969. The Beatles made me want to play guitar…and the Shocking Blue and Creedence Clearwater Revival and Steppenwolf ‘cause they scared me.

B: What was your first guitar?

(Diamond, shirtless, backstage in Scotland, 11/25/01)

J: My first guitar? Well, my parents bought me a classical guitar when I was eight and I took classical guitar lessons

B: What about electric?
J: Oh, my first electric guitar, I saved up lawn-mowing money and when I was fourteen I bought a Vox 12-string ‘cause I really liked the Byrds and Jefferson Airplane.

B: What was your first band like and what kind of covers did you do?
J: Oh, my first electric bass, I bought a bass in 1978 when I was thirteen and my friends, these guys in middle school/junior high had a band called Inferno and we did Ted Nugent covers, Kiss covers and Aerosmith covers. That was my first band, Inferno, and we played a show at our junior high and we made a cassette of it and the singer lost it.

B: Tell a story from your childhood to explain why you are the way you are like where did you grow up…maybe the story about you at the Brownie meeting, I think, personifies a lot about you…

J: Yeah, well in 1968 I was at a Brownie meeting…Brownie’s are little girls like Girl Scouts or Bluebirds. So it was ’68, I was three I was pretty excitable and there were these girls all talking in this church basement, my sister, my mom, they’re all just going “blahblahblahblahblah” you know, making all kinds of horrible racket and I was playing with a wooden train set and I’m sitting in this little room and I couldn’t stand the way they all sounded like yapping crows so I walked out in the middle of the room and I screamed “SHUT UP!” And everyone was silent and my mom took me upstairs and spanked me. That’s a good story.

B: How did you get into producing and who are your producing influences and how would you describe your recording technique?

J: Well I got into working at a studio because I always wanted to work in a studio, or I always liked music and liked messing around with microphones and recording things as a kid. But, I always had these horrible bands to work with when I got out of college, a lot of Christian metal. But I never really produced anything, I just would kinda go “does that sound okay?” because I hated all the music so I didn’t even care. I wanted to go home. I wanted to get my $6.50 and hour and go home. So it just eventually sprang from that…being frustrated working with bands I hated.

B: So what would you say for producing influences and recording technique?

J: I guess for recording technique I’ve been pretty lucky actually because everyone I worked with never had much money because they would get those Sympathy (for the Record Industry) Record deals, they’d get like two-three thousand dollars and go “oh my god, we gotta make a record!” And I’d go “ok, I’ll charge you $35 an hour” I think I started at $25 when I started the studio and I inched it up to $30 and then $35 and you could make a record for $2000 or like $1300 as in the Clone Defects’ case. So that got me to do it really quickly but do it well at the same time. So that was really great practice. People go “How many records have you made? A million?” I go “I don’t know…fifty.” Because everyone would only spend a couple of weeks on each one. But as far as other producers, I never really listen…

B: Did you ever notice, like George Martin and say “Wow, he’s a good producer” or you just noticed a record you thought sounded good?

J: Yeah, I never really thought about George Martin like “Oh my god! This kick drum sounds amazing!”

(the so-called "classic" Dirtbombs line-up, Sydney Opera House in the background, 11/2002)

B: Tell us a lie about the first time you met Mick Collins, or the truth…whichever is more interesting.

J: I was working with Bob Mulrooney, Bootsey of Bootsey X and the Lovemasters and we were at the Tempermill, this studio I worked at in Detroit, in a suburb of Detroit, where I had to do a lot of music I didn’t like. Bob Mulrooney was one of the people I actually liked so Bob and I were working on something and this guy Mick came in and I didn’t know who he was. He was just some guy. And he came to pick up a record that Bob Mulrooney had because Bob Mulrooney worked in a record store. So I introduced myself and we started talking, I had just moved to Detroit and I said “hey, I’ve got this little 8-track at this space where I’m living” Mick said “Hey, maybe I’ll give you a call, I’ve got to do some recording” Well he just got a bunch of money from Warner Brothers and he spent it all so he needed some place really cheap to do it at to finish his Warner Brothers demos which he didn’t pay me for like a year for.

B: Did anything ever come of those Warner Brothers’ demos?
J: No. He charged the bill to Larry Hardy (In the Red Records owner) I found out later. So that’s how I met Mick. And I had a dog’s playing roulette poster…painting on the wall and that really attracted him to the studio (imitating Mick’s voice) “Well I really thought that was something special when I saw that painting.”
B: What is your motivation?
J: For what?

B: Is your motivation paying bills?

J: Well, my motivation is a combination of things of course I want to make some money and I like having a decent car that is not falling apart and I would like to get a ’69 Alfa Romeo at some point. But my motivation is to make records that I like and to work with bands that I like, personally, because I spent some long times working with bands that I hated…and if you know who you are, fuck you anyway, ‘cause I still hate you.

B: What do you think about on stage?
J: Oh, all kinds of things. Sometimes nothing, sometimes I listen to what the drums are doing so I play in time, listen to what Mick’s doing to hear how out of tune he is…I’m looking at girls. Usually I’m thinking about the music (first) and girls second.

B: Describe Dave Buick

J: Dave’s a great guy, we’re not real close friends but I know him, I can say “Hey Dave, what’s happening?” and he’ll say “Aw Jim, I’m drunk.” No, he’s not drunk all the time, he’s a great music fan and he’s knowledgeable about music and he’s got quite a fashion sense. Yeah, he’s a good guy, he’s never done me wrong. Ever.

B: Describe Mr. Collins

J: Mick Collins is talented with…you know, there’s some parameters there, I’m not gonna say “Oh my god! Mick Collins is a genius!” Mick Collins is not a genius. Mick Collins is a musically-talented guy and I’ll tease him about this as long as I know him that he’s the inventor of punk-blues. And he’ll hate that and he’ll claim that he’s not garage.

B: If Mick isn’t a genius, who would you claim is a genius?
J: No one I know.

B: Give us a genius on any level

J: I don’t know if there are any geniuses

B: Would you say Paul McCartney is a genius?
J: No, I think he’s a good musician, he writes catchy songs…I guess Einstein is a genius, you know?

B: Describe Mr. Blackwell

J: Who, Ben? Ben is a very enthusiastic kid. You know, becoming a man, he’s very enthusiastic and that’s probably the greatest thing about him being in the band (Dirtbombs) because he’s more enthusiastic than Mick or I ‘cause we’re all jaded old guys. Ben collects music and he’s very knowledgeable about music…should practice drums a little more.

B: Tell us something about Ben that most people don’t know

J: He likes to drop his pants all the time.

B: Describe Jack White

J: You know, I just know Jack from working in the studio mainly. He’s got some talent too, and he knows how to channel it, I think that’s why a big part of it is being successful…he and Meg have a good sense of style and fashion and I think once you put that all together with musical talent and good songwriting, then that’s a pretty winning combination.

B: So describe Meg apart from what you already said.

J: Meg’s really sweet, I probably hang out with her more than I do with Jack, just seeing her in a bar or something and she’s super down to earth and her drumming’s sky-rocketed from what it was when I first met her, which is great.

B: Describe Jason Stollsteimer

J: Jason, you know, he and I have had fine times together in the studio, you know, sometimes he can talk some shit, but he’s never been malicious towards me and he’s always done right by me, so I never have anything bad to say about him. He’s using the garage rock thing right now to his advantage, which is great, so we’ll see how their record goes…I’m sure everyone is curious.

B: What would you say is the best part of Detroit, and conversely, what do you think is the worst part of Detroit?
J: The best part is the livin’ is easy, ‘Cause I can live downtown and I won’t even tell everyone what I pay for rent. It’s easy to live in, it’s a small town, there’s a definite clique and if you’re in that clique then that’s great. You know I’m not in the clique, bands like Illegal and Forge are in, thank god. No, it’s great because it’s really tight-knit and most people are friends…not as much as they used to be before money got involved. Money and big egos. The worst part about Detroit is that it’s so miserable and it’s so ugly, aesthetically. But the good thing, on that same hand, is when you go to any other city in the world, that city is beautiful…

B: Well do you think it being ugly maybe is something that keeps people away that people who may be superficial, people who go to LA or New York wouldn’t come to Detroit because it doesn’t seem like a pretty place?

J: Possibly. Detroit’s horrible. Every time I go out of town I come back and say“This place fucking sucks. I hate this.” You know, there’s some one-legged guy outside my door saying “gimme some change” and I go “all I have are euro’s and pounds” and he said “I don’t care” so I gave it to him anyway. But yeah, it’s just really ugly here. And depressing.

(Diamond, Detroit Metro Airport, 11/2003...Dirtbombs myth has long-said Jim's luggage for this trip was just a garbage bag with his clothes in it, but I will honestly say he was doing the dirty work of smuggling Dirtbombs t-shirts into the UK, a job no one likes)

B: Are you punk rock? If so, could you please explain why?
J: No, I’m not punk rock…what’s punk rock? Is John Lydon punk rock?
B: What about spray painting “Helter Skelter” on your front door?

J: I don’t think that’s punk rock, I thought that was funny.

B: What about drawing the Black Flag logo and writing “My War”?
J: No, I’m gonna write “My War: Johnny Bob Goldstein”, “Chavo” or “Robo”. No, I’m just gonna write “Robo” on my front door.

B: What are the mechanics behind your songwriting? How do you create a song and particular vision, not necessarily Dirtbombs songs, but anything you write.

J: Anything I’ve written, I usually come up with the melody and the music right away. So I can do that in a second. But putting words…I’m not a real wordsmith, as they say. But I can come up with a melody very fast.

B: Who are your favorite singers and guitarists?
J: Probably one of my favorite guitar players, I’ve got a few favorite guitar players, Jorma Kaukonen is one of my favorite guitar players. He’s from Jefferson Airplane, but he’s a great acoustic finger-picker too. And I liked Eric Clapton up until pre-“Layla”, up until ’69…up until Cream broke up Eric Clapton was amazing. After Cream I’m not really into him. You know Jimi Hendrix, he’s alright but sometimes he gets a little over-rated. Actually I like the lead guitar player from Big Brother and the Holding Company a lot, it’s either Sam Andrew or James Girly…I can’t remember.

B: Do you want your parents to be proud of you?

J: Yeah, actually they are. I’m very happy that they’re proud of me because I spent a lot of years where I don’t think they were very proud of me.

B: When do you think it finally clicked over?
J: Well, I’ve been pretty lucky because my parents have always been supportive of what I did, because my dad had his own business for years. So I think, even though they didn’t really understand what I do…I was in Austin, Texas working in a studio and I said “you gotta come in, this is what I do” and it was a 48 input Neve board, all computerized and the faders would move and my dad’s like “woah jimbo! This is like a rocketship in here!” And I said “That’s right” and he said “You know how to operate this?” and I said “Yeah” and he couldn’t believe and said “ Huh.” And then I finally started making money and they see my name in the paper and they say “You know, you should really try to get more local press out of all your travels” and I say “Mom, who cares? They know who I am in Holland now”

B: Is there anybody you openly hate?
J: God…probably the closest I come to hating anyone is Chris Fuller, manager of the Electric Six. He’s just a moron.

B: There’s specific events that have happened between you…would you like to bring that up?
J: He’s just lied a bunch of shit about telling his band “We paid Jim for playing that saxaphone” when he really didn’t.

B: This is for “Danger! High Voltage!”?
J: Yeah, “Danger! High Voltage!”
B: So what did he say and what did you say?
J: I said, “Look man, let’s get something in writing, this song is getting big, we gotta take care of this, legally”, because I basically produced the song with them and played on it and he said “We’ll do this when we feel the time is appropriate” I said “The time is now” and basically had to threaten to sue them, just to get something in writing and they still wouldn’t respond so I’m like fuck you. I didn’t have to sue anyone, thank god, ‘cause I didn’t even want to do that, but yeah, the guy’s a moron and I’ll say that’s for the record.

B: Talk about recording the White Stripes first record, their self-titled record and just tell me what you can, off the top of your head about that.

J: It took awhile because they were just a beginning band and they had one of those Sympathy for the Record Industry deals where I think they got $2500 or $3000. So it took a while because Meg had barely been playing the drums. So we had to do a lot of takes because she’d fuck up…she’d just started playing.

B: Did you save every take or would you re-use tape…

J: We couldn’t afford to keep going through reels of two-inch tape, that would’ve used up their whole budget.

B: So this was January/February of 1999?

J: Was it? Or was it ’98?
B: The record came out in’99, so…

J: I don’t remember…

B: So the geek stuff, what kind of mixing board did you use and what kind of tape machine…

J: Well I hate talking about this shit because all you fuckers are gonna go try and buy one of these mixing boards but they’re mine, if you see one, sell it to me, at a decent price. They have this mixing board called an Electrodyne, it was made in Los Angeles in the late sixties and early seventies and they’re totally awesome.

B: How did that become yours? Did you search out a bunch of different mixing boards or what?
J: I got it on accident. I bought a 16-track tape recorder from this music school in northern Michigan called Interlochen and they said “Hey, you want this old mixing board?” I said “Yeah” and I got there and it was huge and ridiculous and it weighed 500 pounds…it was made of wood and ¼ inch aircraft aluminum and stuff and big VU meters and knobs and I’m like “Wow, this thing is incredible!” and I plugged it in and it worked…it’d been sitting in a barn since 1980. And I got in in ’98. So yeah, then I realized this thing is really amazing. Hmm…so I kinda lucked out.

B: So at that time, was Jack just using his red hollowbody…

J: Yeah, his red hollowbody…

B: or did he use any of the guitars you had lying around the studio?

J: He had a Silvertone, I think we used…Mick had a 100-watt Silvertone that he bought with Dirtbombs’ money way back that he embezzled from us…you can print that too. So Mick embezzled money from the band, Jack used his 100-watt head through a cabinet, through like, a 15-inch Electrovoice speaker in that cabinet and I miked it with two Shure SM-57’s.

B: And Jack, for singing, wouldn’t he just sing through a guitar amp?
J: Yeah, cause I’d go “Hey Jack, try this mike” and he’d be like “It sounds like we’re in a studio.” He was very self-conscious of being in a studio and having it sound polished like you’re in a studio. But I said “You ARE in a studio, if you want to make a field recording, dig up Alan Lomax and have him go hook up his Ampex”
B: What do you think when Jack has said in interviews before that the first album is favorite one, that he doesn’t think they’ll ever top it?
J: I don’t know, I mean, the first record…everyone’s first record is usually really good because they’ve had a while to get ready for it. And then the other one’s they’re pressured to repeat or do better. So the first one rocks the hardest out of all of them, I think. It’s tough sounding.

B: Were they drinking?
J: I think Meg drank tea, because she was cold.

B: Do you remember anything that they did for that album that didn’t make it on the album? Do you remember them doing “My Little Red Book” and “Let’s Build a Home”…

J: Yeah, they did do that stuff…I forgot about that.

B: But that never got released…
J: No, I forgot about it. I guess I’ve got copies of that somewhere

B: Or maybe you don’t.

J: I have the DAT…I’m sure I’ve got the DAT.

B: I shouldn’t have told you that then because you would’ve forgot…

J: Oh my god…it’s going up on eBay!

(the author and Diamond on Bondi Beach, Australia 2002)

B: How would you describe Jack as a producer…after he recorded “De Stijl” and “Sympathetic Sounds” at his house you did the mixing on that, what would you say about his recording technique?
J: He’s got some specific ideas on how he likes things to sound, and that’s good. Some of it’s different from what I would do…he likes things too loud, I’m like “I cannot sit here anymore” so, I hope that boy’s ears are working in ten or twenty years. He’s got his own ideas and that’s good, because most people have no ideas.

B: What would you say about, the early shows you went to, the early punk and hardcore shows, do you ever see that translate, or how does that feel nowadays, especially the fact that you went to the shows down the street from where you now live…

J: In 1982 I went to go see Black Flag, there used to be this place, City Club or Clutch Cargo’s…right next door to where I live now, where the studio is. And I remember it being 1982, the summer and I was like “wow, it’d be really cool to live down here, it’d be like cool, punk rock guy” and so I’m sitting there, next thing I know I’m thirty-one going “aw fuck, here I am. I’m broke next door to that place I dreamed about as a teenager.” Those punk rock shows, I mean, going to see Black Flag in 1982 was amazing.

B: What about when you saw Minor Threat?
J: Minor Threat at the Serbian Church Hall in Ecorse, Michigan. I lost my shoe and Ian Mackeye, I said “Hey Ian…” I tugged on his jeans and said “Ian, I lost my shoe” and he said “Hey hey hey…this guy lost his shoe down here, anyone find his shoe?” And from the back of this little Serbian Church hall, the black shoe was thrown over people’s heads and we caught it and I put I back on and I waved and said “thanks everyone.” And then we kept slam-dancing.

B: Anything more to say about dealing with “De Stijl” and “Sympathetic Sounds”…did you have to fix those up or…
J: No, “De Stijl” was fine. Jack’s good at recording his own band…he’s not a recording engineer, he’s a guitar player and a singer and a songwriter.

B: Do you get sick of people going up to you saying “Oh, you recorded the first White Stripes album, you must be rich.”

J: Yeah, I don’t like that at all. I made $2000 on the damn thing. No, probably two reels of two-inch, that was $150, so I only made $1700 off the thing. But I’ve gotten good props out of it, people go “Cool man, you did that record” and I go “Yeah, I did 50 others too, you wanna hear those?”
B: Well, it’s the idea that one of them is going to stick out more than the others…

J: Obviously…

B: What would you say about recording the latest stuff on the Von Bondies new record?
J: Uh, that was fun. I mean, Jason let me go “Hey, try this” or “Don’t do that” but he wanted everyone to be producing it equally which I don’t think is the best idea.

How to Tour Europe on Zero Dollars a Day...

Last year I did a brief tour in Europe and England playing drums for my friend Kelley Stoltz. I kept a tour diary that ended up being printed in the unparalleled UK magazine Plan B. I've added some pix here and will also let it be known that this tour was a total financial nightmare. I would scam as much free fruit from hotel lobbies as possible while usually subsisting on one trip to a gas station for a huge bottle of water, some flapjacks and a microwaveable bowl of noodles. And Kelley wasn't getting paid diddley, so I wasn't really in a place to ask for a salary or per diem or whatever (he later made up for it by paying to have my laptop fixed, so I was happy in the end). It was an interesting month. The account below is fairly short-winded due to my limited space in Plan B so I didn't really get in to my week spent rehearsing in San Francisco, what I did for most of the days off, quick visits to Stonehenge and Nick Drake's grave, how I sped through more than 20 books on the entire trip, our time spent at the wonderful Bernie's house in Manchester, how our driver Milan could seem like he was retarded at times and a whole bunch of other shit that maybe some day I'll transcribe from the hand-written journals.

(the band, our day off in Edinburgh)

The whole thing started with me getting picked up from San Francisco International Airport in a vintage bright orange Volkswagen minibus.

My first thought was, “Fucking hippies.”

With Kelley Stoltz needing a drummer for his European tour I was more than happy to help him in the month-long process of losing money.

LONDON:

Sixty people on a Thursday night is the kind of crowd a MOJO magazine darling can expect in London? Jeez. Felt surprisingly comfortable for our first show. Must confess that prior to rehearsals in SF I had only tried to play any of Kelley’s songs once.

GREAT DUNMOW:

Two days off in this nowhere town. Slept until 5pm the first day. County fair is both exciting and desperate. Four guys sharing a room starts to literally and metaphorically smell like a manhole. With my bedside lamp still bright at 5am reading Consider the Lobster, Kelley kindly asks me how much longer I plan on reading. I took consideration and finished in the bathroom.

DORSET:

End of the Road Festival and was excited to meet up with Holly Golightly. Her tunes are comfortable like an old pair of jeans and Bruce Brand is a drummer’s drummer. Ryan Adams “compliments” me on my drum fills for Words saying each one was a leap of faith, somehow managing to come in at the right spot. While I’m still not sure of my intention on said fills, I just don’t like this dude. After saying I reminded him of Bill Kreutzman from the Grateful Dead it took all I had in me to keep from punching Ryan Adams.

BRISTOL:

Kelley did a hilarious ten-minute mock interview with himself (complete with misappropriated Scotch accent) onstage, somewhat bummed that his BBC Radio interview earlier in the day was cancelled. Someone nailed it as “George Harrison meets George Carlin.” Easily the longest I’ve been onstage without playing music and the hardest I’ve ever laughed.

BIRMINGHAM:

Low-point of the tour. As if playing a place called the Flapper and Firkin wasn’t degrading enough, the promoter snuck out without paying us. Fine…we’d still play for the six people there. But at 10:45, before we’d even set up our equipment, we’re told there’s an 11pm curfew. We barely muster through two songs before Kelley gets frustrated and walks off. The first (and only) time I ever played wearing a hat. Spent two hours driving trying to find our hotel only 10 minutes away. Briefly considered doing heroin.

SHEFFIELD:
Walked through town singing Arctic Monkeys songs to myself. I love the Arctic Monkeys. You would too if you didn’t live in the UK.

YORK:

Finally a kickass show. Tons of people showed up and we delivered. Made up a meandering psych-jam on the spot. Kelley hammed up Iggy’s Nightclubbin’ and convinced the crowd to sing along. Someone made a birthday cake for Kelley and we handed out slices at the merch table.

DUNDEE:
Two days off in this nothing town. Saw Clerks 2 and forgot where I was for two hours.

ABERDEEN:

Crowd was worse than sparse. Didn’t affect us as we just smiled and had fun. Definitely the best version of Link Wray’s Rumble we’d play the whole tour.

GLASGOW:

Walked around town singing Franz Ferdinand songs to myself. Found my way to MONO record store and splurged on Magik Markers and Rita Lee CD’s.

DUBLIN:

A record store dedicated to U2? You’ve got to be kidding me. Bought Everett True’s Nirvana biography. Finished it in less than two days. Utterly brilliant. Show was whatever, highlight being bass player Kevin (engineer for the Residents…or is it member of the Residents?) getting schizophrenic electric piano from a state of utter non-working to almost perfect by heating it up with a hair dryer. Wow.

LIVERPOOL:

Last show with tour and equipment support from Kendall’s Seven Seals. Great dudes whose songs felt “eh” at the beginning but ended with me singing along every chance I got. First week of uni and the city streets are a veritable flesh parade. I miss my girlfriend more than ever. Watching drunken couples argue in the streets is the closest I will get to actually experiencing an Arctic Monkeys’ song besides “Despair in the Departure Lounge.”

BRUSSELS:

After cancelled shows in Aldershot and Cardiff, the first continental show was amazing. The Juke Box Shop is my favorite record store of the year and I dropped a quick 100 euros on 7”s (Jacques Dutronc, Elliott Smith) but make the trip pay for itself by finding the Kurdt Kobain Go Team single for a fiver. Free internet, five star hotel and a gourmet dinner…it was like England never happened.

AMSTERDAM:

Radio/webcast of a 5-song set made me imagine playing on “Beat Club” or some other long-forgotten German television broadcast. Mom watched it live and said I needed to shave. Following day off we visit the Rijks Museum and the Van Gogh museum and I left feeling cultured. Subsisted almost exclusively on Febo automat burgers and fried snot.

UTRECHT:

Spent two hours at Da Capo record store and still didn’t get through all the 7”s. Found myself racking my brain whether or not I really needed a bootleg Sonic Youth 7” or a Kelley Deal 6000 single. With the Dirtbombs I would just buy both. The show featured excessive smoke machine use. Afterwards we cruised the “Red Boat” district, a kilometer-long stretch of prostitutes stationed in houseboats. Brilliantly fascinating.

ASSEN/ROTTERDAMN:
Take Root Festival in Assen was awkward. Kelley and Kevin got shocked relentlessly onstage and the performance suffered terribly for it. But the food was worth it. Hopped in the van and made the trek to Rotterdam. Second show of the day fared much better, with a decent crowd and a fulfilling effort on our part, though loading out through a sea of idiots at a disco is one of the more frustrating things I must do in my life.

AMSTERDAM v.2:

A semi-festival in both rooms of the Paradiso, including the Hidden Cameras, I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness (more like ‘I Love You But I’ve Chosen to Play in this Shitty Band’) and to my surprise, Dan Sartain. Spent every free minute I had with Dan, catching up as if we were old friends. His set was nothing short of breath taking and his new record Join Dan Sartain is flawless. Night ended with Dan gobbling a hash brownie way too quickly. He wore ripped up bath towels for socks the next day.

Gothenburg:

Days off driving are boring, resulted only in an argument with Kelley whether gummy Cola bottles or gummy bears are better. I say cola. He say bears. A friend of Kelley’s handed me his cell phone when I asked if he had spare original pressings of the first two Dungen lps. I find myself leaving a voicemail for the guitar player in the band. Watched the Detroit Tigers destroy the Oakland Athletics live on Swedish television. Probably the best thing to happen the entire tour.

Lund:

The Kelley Stoltz act may single-handedly bring down the socialist arts-supporting government of Sweden with paid attendees of the show totaling seven. After-hours swimming and sauna at posh hotel is the perfect ending to a confusing but enjoyable month.

Best Songs I First Heard in 2007...

As day four of the Tremble Under Boom Lights one-year anniversary celebration (where I've promised the unthinkable with a post here every day for a week) I'm listing the best songs I first heard this year. Feel free to trail through the previous three posts to find out what I was doing approximately 8 years ago, what sessions for the new Dirtbombs album looked like and what the ten most important singles in Detroit history are.

Anyturd, all of these songs get my HIGHEST approval and I strongly suggest you click on the links for downloads. The shit is free...how can you go wrong? Enjoy!

Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend – Arctic Monkeys
Dizzee Rascal grimes up this Monkeys B-side with all kinds of wicked flow. I reviewed this earlier this year, search out what I said then.

Gloves – the Horrors
A simple garage chord progression does wonders. Coupled with Rotter's lyrics about collecting gloves he finds in the street (bothy creepy and great for lyrics) and the syncopated organ stabs and what you get is the most-played song on my iTunes jukebox.

Politicians in My Eyes – Death
While I'd known about this band and their single on Tryangle for a year or so, I just heard the song a little over a month ago. The band consisted of three black brothers from the east side of Detroit who only ever played a few house parties and unleashed a monster of a single that draws equal parts of the Stooges, Blue Oyster Cult, the MC5 and all kinds of scorched punk recklessness before grasping onto a funky ending that all needs to be heard to be believed. Shit, just download it here... http://www.sendspace.com/file/avgkxe there's five unreleased songs I'm not airing out here and those are equally as badass. And it's from 1976!!! Dirtbombs are totally gonna cover some of this shit.

I Won't Look Back - Tall Birds
These guys have two utterly impeccable 7"s under their belts, but this jam off their Psychic Scam self-released CD-r is flawless. Cass is still working hard in hopes of releasing this as a 7". You can hear the almost-as-awesome live version at www.myspace.com/tallbirds

Your Reverie – Kelley Stoltz
I like the way you can hear (what I assume to be) the Echoplex drag the guitar along.

Alleys of Your Mind – Cybotron
If you haven't heard this already, I give up.

Tears Dry on Their Own – Amy Winehouse
While "Rehab" is cool and all, I really dig the lyrics on this one on top of the fact that it musically references "You're All I Need to Get By" and "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Shows how much people will really dig something when you use a real band to record.

Honey, We Can't Afford to Look This Cheap – The White Stripes
Y'all gonna flip when you hear this one. It tells a simple story with a poignant and piercing turn of phrase. A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll, Jack rocking a "Finding it Harder to Be Gentleman"-style piano romp, Beck on the slide guitar...how can you go wrong? Dare I say I think this, coupled with "It's My Fault For Being Famous" are two B-sides that are as good as anything found on Icky Thump.

See Me Mariona – Brian Olive
Wicked awesome to finally something emerge from his solo efforts. I reviewed the 7" for Metro Times, so dig it up at their website, www.metrotimes.com

Girl From the Mountain – Ghetto Brothers
So in Jeff Chang's book Can't Stop, Won't Stop he lists the Power-Fuerza album by New York's slightly gang-affiliated Ghetto Brothers as a starting point for the inception of hip hop sound in NYC. Intrigued, I found the CD reissue and couldn't disagree with Chang more. Nowhere do I feel even a remote resemblance to what hip hop would turn into. In spite of all that, what we do have is a brilliant Latino-infused pop song with ample percussion backing and a searing fuzz solo. Dig it here...http://www.sendspace.com/file/xyroa5

Bigger Hole to Fill – The Hives
Shit, Pelle just nails this one with his non-plussed vocal and the rubbery bassline sounds like something Dave Buick would come up with. Should've opened the album though.

Clear Island - Liars
Uh, if you don't like this you don't like music. At all. Just give up now. You'll never understand.

UMO – OOIOO
RIP The Night Train with Mick Collins. Equal parts Liars and pagan birth ritual. Rock it here...
http://www.sendspace.com/file/8u0xem

Broadzilla – Turbo Fruits
Not even recorded yet and it's the best thing they've ever done. Shit.

And what are the best songs you first heard this year? Don't be shy now...if you just finally heard "A Day in the Life" be proud of yourself and just let us know. Everything will be fine.

Happy Birthday to Tremble Under Boom Lights...

As someone so wisely pointed out in the "comments" of my previous entry ("Top Ten Most Important Singles in Detroit History" if you somehow missed it) yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of this little blogsight. To celebrate, I'm going whole hog with a new post everyday FOR A WEEK! Holy shit. I can't believe it's happening. So brace yourselves and check back often as we've got some sweet stuff in store.

Today we'll celebrate with a photo taken from the recording sessions for the latest Dirtbombs album. Titled "We Have You Surrounded" the CD/LP will be released (as we're too record collector-y to "drop" something so precious) on February 12th and will most likely be preceded by a 7" with one album track and one exclusive B-side, both of which are covers of the band Sparks. All this will be released by the lovely In the Red record label of the comfy Eagle Rock neighborhood of Los Angeles.

Anygay, given the known proclivities of certain band members, I don't think this photo needs any explanation. You should've seen what everyone else had to wear. I was lucky.

Top Ten Most Important Singles in Detroit History...

Let the arguing begin. But please, keep it classy. Please feel free to reply with your own lists in the "Comments" section. First person who successfully states the importance of today's date wins a CD-r of the as-yet unreleased Dirtbombs song "Race to the Bottom."

1. MC5 “Looking at You” b/w “Borderline” (A-Square)

Easily one of the best singles in ALL of history. The cacophonous roar unleashed on “Looking at You” is the stuff legends are made of. Recorded at United Sound and supposedly the amps were rigged with mic’s behind their speakers because it was so fucking loud. “Borderline” (at least for me) holds some weight as a precursory allusion to what 8 Mile Road would become, but is really just a basic carnal ode. Honestly, if shit like this didn’t bring about legitimate change at the Democratic Convention of ’68, NOTHING COULD! What tends to get forgotten about this release is that the band did it on their own vis a vis Trans Love. It was only after-the-fact that they added the A-Square tag to lend it some legitimacy. So while propers are due for the uncompromising squalor they recorded in January 1968, even more credit is necessary for the fact that they did this DIY-style. And can you top Michael Davis’ two-note bass monster? There was nothing remotely close to this going on in Detroit at the same time. Grimshaw’s spacey rare-as-all-get-out pic sleeve festooned with Coltrane and pot leaves? Leni Sinclair’s sparsely scenic live pic taken at the Masonic Temple? The brilliantly simple embryonic yet symmetrical label art? Rob Tyner’s deceptively alluring lyrics and self-aware vocals the way he gutturally and grittily screams “ALL I EVER WANT TO DO NOW GIRL!” Everything here gets the highest marks possible. THIS SINGLE IS PURE PERFECTION.

See also:
The Up “Just Like an Aborigine” (Sundance)
The Stooges “I Got a Right” (Siamese)

2. Cybotron “Alleys of Your Mind” b/w “Cosmic Raindance” (Deep Space)
   

I’m not even a technohead, but with this single is basically the genesis of a genre. While Detroit can’t legitimately claim soul, rock or white-boy rap as its own, I think we’ve got an honest claim in techno. I’ve been so gay for this single over the past year it’s not even funny. The unassumingly paranoid lyrics coupled with the frustratingly danceable bass groove click on a moment that transcends both its predecessors and it’s antecedents as if it exists in a vacuum.

See also:
Rhythim is Rhythim “Strings of Life” (Metroplex)
Model 500 “No UFO’s” (Metroplex)

3. Negative Approach 7” EP (Touch & Go)
   

I guess Minor Threat came first, but NA is equally responsible for the widespread dissemination of hardcore worldwide. As one of the Grosse Pointe Greats (along with the Pleasure Seekers, the Index and the Decks) their influence far exceeds their recorded output.

See also:
Various Artists Process of Elimination (Touch & Go)
Necros "IQ 32" (Touch & Go)

4. Martha and the Vandellas “Dancing in the Street” b/w “There He Is” (Gordy)

“Can’t forget the Motor City” still rings in my ears as an excerpted soundclip from some local oldies station stringing together the more famous mentions of Detroit (or it’s nicknames) in pop culture verse. It was only with my recent delving into Afro-American scholarship with which I learned of the heavy societal and political weight placed onto the lyrics. H. Rap Brown played it while organizing rallies and many point to it as a loose inspiration or rally cry behind urban rioting in the US in the 1960’s. That still doesn’t change the fact that I saw Martha Reeves eating at the Clique on Jefferson a few years ago. It’s taken me awhile, but I cannot begin to explain how cool I think it is to see a living legend (and city council member to boot!) eating at a shitty little breakfast dive.

See also:
Aretha Franklin “Respect” (Atlantic)
Marvin Gaye “What’s Goin On?” (Motown)

5. Parliament “Flash Light” b/w “Swing Down Sweet Chariot” (Casablanca)
   

P-Funk’s first #1 and, for me, their quintessential track, but could just as easily be “I Wanna Testify” or “Maggot Brain” or “Atomic Dog” here as they all have a timeless quality. Laid the groundwork for electro, gangsta rap (the G-funk era), Electrifyin’ Mojo and all kinds of Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication jams.

See also:
MC Breed “Ain’t No Future in Your Frontin” (Power Artist)
DJ Assualt “Ass’n’Titties” (Assault Rifle)

6. ? and the Mysterians “96 Tears” b/w “Midnight Hour” (Pa-Go-Go/Cameo)

The quintessential one-hit-wonder American garage band. A more poignant and memorable track than “96 Tears” you will not find. Its dinky Vox organ line is more recognizable than the Coca-Cola logo and Q’s impassioned and emphatic delivery is purely indefinable as it’s equal parts camp, soul, disillusioned teen angst and plotted revenge. Inspired Dave Marsh to popularize the term “punk rock” and plays an important role in Lester Bangs’ screed “Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung”, an unparalleled masterwork itself that paved the way for self-important rock journalism and the future rampant championing of forgotten or “lost” classics that would later manifest itself as Lenny Kaye’s Nuggets compilation and still exists today as MOJO magazine’s raison d’etre, among other things. On top of ALL that bullshit I just mentioned, “96 Tears” still managed to hit #1 on the Billboard charts.

See also:
Tommy James and the Shondells “Hanky Panky” (Snap)
The Amboy Dukes “Journey to the Center of the Mind” (Mainstream)

7. The White Stripes “Seven Nation Army” b/w “Good To Me” (XL/V2)

The importance of this one is still yet to be completely felt. What “Seven Nation Army” did accomplish was lending a bit of credence to the (at the time) still-being-hyped Detroit garage rock scene. If this (or whatever they’d chosen for lead single off Elephant) had tanked, the whole thing would’ve gone kaput and I’d personally be asking if you’d like fries with your value meal. The immediacy and frequency with which this song was covered by relevant and modern bands was something special, recalling the hit-happy 60’s when you could find several versions of bona-fide hits lurking in the charts. Like the fact that the Count Five covered two songs by the Who on their first album, how cool is that? Why doesn’t that happen today? I’d love to see Arctic Monkeys covering Queens of the Stoneage or however you want to frame it. The emergence of “7NA” as a worldwide stadium chant (the unofficial theme for the 2006 World Cup winning Italian national team) proves that this song still has lots of life left in it, as it managed to re-enter the British singles charts over four years after it’s initial release. Certainly the Von Bondies, Electric Six, Brendan Benson and Detroit Cobras owe their own (however brief) UK chart entries in some small part to the path the Stripes and this single cleared.

See also:
Electric Six “Danger! High Voltage” (XL)
The Von Bondies “C’mon, C’mon” (Sire)

8. Eminem “Lose Yourself” (Shady/Interscope)
   

From the soundtrack to the movie 8 Mile, it’s hard to imagine that this polarizing, signifying white boy from Warren won an Oscar. The uproar surrounding Mathers at this point in his career was at a fever pitch and it’s the only Detroit song in recent memory to top the Billboard singles chart.

See also:
Kid Rock “Bawitdaba” (Atlantic)
D12 “My Band” (Shady/Interscope)

9. Bob Seger and the Last Heard “Heavy Music Pts. 1 and 2” (Cameo)

The reason this single, and not any of his other Last Heard waxings, is because of the incredibly bad luck it had. While it peaked locally with over 70k copies sold, it had the unfortunate timing that coincided with the collapse of the record label Cameo-Parkway. This is endemic of other Hideout-grown artists who would go one to widespread success in the Seventies under wholly different musical guise. So whereas Suzy Quatro was badass with the Pleasure Seekers “What a Way To Die”, they would peter out on Mercury thereafter and Suzy herself wouldn’t see success until “48 Crash” years later. Same with Glen Fry and his oft-forgotten Hideout gem “Burned” with the Mushrooms, as he’d later go on to a modicum of success with some act called the Eagles(?). The list of local artists in this exact same situation (killer garage bands that went nowhere, lesser quality 70’s rock that was huge) continues with Ted Nugent (Lourds, Amboy Dukes), Alice Cooper (the Spiders, though not really local) and across the country we witness this phenomenon with John Fogerty (the Golliwogs before Creedence Clearwater Revival), Steven Tyler (the Chain Reaction before Aerosmith) and Bruce Springsteen (the Castiles before his E Street Band). But it seems from all of these artists, Seger was the closest to actually crossing-over with his garage band. And it’s that “totally-got-screwed” aspect that is so rampant in local music, experienced in different aspects by Esham, the Gories and the Romantics, that’s crucial to the Detroit music experience.

See also:
The Rationals “Respect” (Cameo)
Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels “Devil With the Blue Dress On” (DynoVoice)

10. John Lee Hooker “Boogie Chillen” b/w “Sally Mae” (Modern)
    

Single-handedly legitimized the Black Bottom and the Hastings Street scene as it hit #1 on the R&B charts in 1948. Hooker, a transplanted Southerner who traveled up North for work in the factories weaves the simple story about the boogie being in him and needing to let it out. Oh to have been at Henry’s Swing Club and absorbed the atmosphere that inspired this monument of Western culture.

See also:
York Brothers “Hamtramck Mama” (Fortune)
The Gories "Telepathic" (In the Red)

Honorable Mentions:
Rocket 455 "Go to Hell" (Human Fly)
Kid Rock "I Am the Bullgod" (Continium)
The Miracles "Shop Around" (Tamla)
Little Stevie Wonder "Fingertips Pt. 2" (Tamla)
Clone Defects "Scissors Chop" (Italy)
Sonic's Rendezvous Band "City Slang" (Orchide)
Nathaniel Mayer "Village of Love" (Fortune)
Little Willie John "Fever" (King)
Madonna "Lucky Star" (Sire)
The Keggs "To Find Out" (Orbit)

Halloween Harmonica From Hell...

When you’re least expecting it, totally caught off-guard, that’s when the best moments happen.

Halloween night on Michigan Ave seemed like a decent but unassuming proposition. After hitting all the hot spots (Slows, the house-party above Slows, High Bias Studio across the street) I’d finally wandered into LJ’s Lounge just around midnight.

All I knew was that Dan Kroha was playing with someone simply known as Harmonica Shah. The name had potential and even though the thought of a $5 cover charge at a bar that has seemingly always been free to enter was slightly off-putting, I bit.

For those who don’t know, LJ’s is a faux-wood-paneled watering hole with a radio-station-styled windowed DJ booth overlooking the rudimentary dance floor barely taking up the better half of a corner of the room.

The walls are covered with tacky promotional mirrors from all sorts of alcohol companies. Some might call the place charming. It reminds me of the endless number of dives I ended up in with my father following summer nights at his softball games where I was nary old enough to see over the bar but was always lucky begging for quarters for the video games.

The band starts playing almost immediately after I walk in. I’m instantly struck by the brilliance of Shah’s harmonica tone. It sounded like Dr. Ross was right there in the room with me. And from what I could tell, he was simply playing through a basic microphone and running it through an indistinguishable amp. The vibe, the tone, the feel…it was all coming through the man’s performance and no glitzy equipment or trickery.

The Shah and his drummer Leon seemed to be a package deal. These black men, presumably in their forties, were still clad in mechanic’s work clothes, the drab, nameless, blue togs that are the inimitable sign of blue-collar working-class, complete with embroidered name patches.

Kroha on guitar accompaniment was splendid. I thought the Demolition Doll Rods were an extremely hit-or-miss enterprise, especially after their TLA album. Dan was always consistent, but the Margaret-factor meant you never knew if you’d be legitimately impressed or leaving the show early. So with Dan unencumbered by that, he was letting loose with lick after spine-stinging lick of blues expertise. I can’t recall ever hearing Dan play so much straight blues and it pained me, if only for the fact that he’s so deft and skilled at it that the junk just oozes off him.

The bass player was someone I’d never seen before. I think it was a blonde woman, but the fact it was Halloween and costumes were plentiful means I could totally be dead wrong here. Either way, she was the backbone of the whole operation, ably keeping everything from falling apart while plucking out those standard blues scales that are as familiar as your childhood front lawn.

And Leon on drums was awesome. Oh, he was by no means a highly-skilled skinsman, but the looseness provided by his kick-snare-hat-tom-ride simplistic set-up and his teetering rhythm was the levity that made the whole thing feel like a jam session at a house party. And that's meant entirely as a compliment.

But back to the Shah. Underneath his off-white cowboy hat was a glint in his eyes. His words were standard blues fare…women done him wrong, braggadocio, signifying, whatever you want to call it. He was unafraid to make direct eye contact with the crowd, all of two feet in front of him. His steely stare was, on occasion, almost lasciviously directed at the wild ladies dancing in front of him. It was awkward, funny and entertaining all at the same time.

And I’ll not lie, the crowd reaction definitely helped fuel the feel of the evening. Amidst the record collecting dudes name-dropping Hubert Sumlin was a batch of freaks just dancing. And set against the wood-paneled walls, the band squeezed into a corner with a rudimentary sound system and the drummer and harmonica player still clad in their work clothes…it all felt like a live and true juke joint, where all are just gathered for a good time.

It took a lot for me to hold back yelling it as a request, so when Kroha switched from his white Stratocaster to a reflective Kent/Teisco/garage-rock $20 special with tons of switches and knobs for slide guitar and then bust into the Hound Dog Taylor gem “Gimme Back My Wig” it was, in my mind, perfection. The room was wholly captivated. John Sinclair, a blues scholar hisself, stood in a doorway soaking in the atmosphere. Detroit’s weird like that…honestly, I just thought it was funny that I could look at the man and tell him what he was doing exactly 39 years ago that night. And as tempted as I am to type Harmonica Shah into Google and find out the deal/history, I’d rather just sit back and revel in what was one of the simplest, purest and most honest musical performances I’ve seen in some time.

CMJ -OR- How Everything Never Seems to Change...

Five years have passed and it feels like nothing has changed.

The Dirtbombs are again playing CMJ.

And again me and one other band member had to make the lonely 9-hour drive to New York without any of our other stagemates to pass the time.

Back in 2002 it was just me and Tom Potter. Mick and Jim both flew out, Pat drove out early to see the Whirlwind Heat. It was Devil’s Night and Tom picked me up from my Wednesday night photojournalism class at Wayne State.

I’m terrible at night driving and honestly drove no more than one hour of the entire trip. We slept in rest stops along the way. Tom was confused during an early-morning rest stop. He comes back to the van and says “Man, it was weird in there. Bunch of people in costumes and shit.” It took a second for either of us to realize that it was Halloween. Potter had a magnificent way of perfectly soundtracking the trip too. I can remember the sun lazily rising over the Delaware Water Gap coupled perfectly to “Fairest of the Seasons” by Nico. That same day I would venture to Rockit Scientist (at the old Bleeker/Carmine location) to buy my own copy of Chelsea Girl and still think it wonderfully majestic. An earlier trip had him introduce me to Trans-Europe Express and set against the rolling Pennsylvania hillside is how I’ll always envision that album.

This year found me driving with Mick. I picked him up and we motored well. The less people in the car, the fewer stops. And match that with no smokers in the vehicle and your skin fails to gain that awful nicotine film that makes a day in a van feel like a week.

We marveled at the unrivaled ferocity of the mid-Seventies Detroit punk band Death. Their single on Tryangle records is high atop many wantlists and the five unreleased songs are more wickedness that may be introduced to the world via the Dirtbombs covering them.

We got to Jersey with relative ease. We took up in Hoboken, popped our heads into Maxwell’s and then down the street to eat at Wild Ginger. Mick and I were both in blue jeans and blue jean jacket with defunct Detroit sports team t-shirts underneath. I was hoping no one would notice. It was the first thing our waitress mentioned. The food was good, I got something I can’t remember with brown rice…maybe a udon noodle with chicken and mushroom. A few doors down we explored inside Frozen Monkey Cafe for a laugh and ended up both buying large waffle cones of Red Velvet Cake ice cream. Can you even imagine a tastier flavor? I’ll save you the time and tell you “no.”

We crashed in Jersey City where Mick became accustomed to Curb Your Enthusiasm while I slept through a toilet overflowing.

Soundcheck on Thursday was at 1pm. Surprisingly, every single band member was on time. This is a feat in and of itself. And of course, the soundman was an hour-and-a-half late. Just our luck. We used mostly the backline gear with me in particular rocking a sweet DW drumkit. Try as we may but we can’t find the issue of the Voice with a lampooning cartoon of the CMJ (or “Costly Musical Joke” as they dubbed it) shitterati. The only shining moment in the Bagge-like scribble is a goofy, blonde dude carrying a bass drum that says “Dirt Bombs” on it. I saw it online and thought it hilarious. I mean, everyone knows it’s one word.

From there, a quick sojourn to the beloved Rockit Scientist. If there is one consistent with any of my New York visits, it’s a trip to this unbeatable record store. Mick was already inside. I ended up with a handful of 7”s (Eat Skull, Cult Ritual, the Shebangs, Wolf People) a 12” comp called God in the Garage and an ESSENTIAL 3-CD collection of the first three years of Sun Records.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not even that big a Sun Records fan. But I will also say I’m a fan of proper documentation and history and chronological order. So starting with Joe Hill Louis in 1952 and ending with Johnny Cash’s earliest recordings in 1954, what you get is one of the most important spells of recorded music in American history. Sure there’s Elvis’ first two singles, but what about Rufus Thomas? “Bear Cat” and “Tiger Man” are just as savage and wicked as anything laid down by the King. And Dr. Ross’ “Chicago Breakdown” finally introduced me to the original the Gories had based their “Detroit Breakdown” on. The combo of raw rockabilly, dirty blues, primitive rock and roll, twangy hillbilly honky-tonk and gospel vocal balladry is such a perfect amalgam of Americana that I challenge anyone to name a label that’s covered more, better, in their first three years.

More aimless walking and without much dough in my pocket I chow econo with a Twix bar and a 25-cent bag of chips. They hit the spot, but I was far from sated. A random turn at a since-forgotten intersection lead me directly to the Ice Cream Man.

Matt Allen is a blessing. He drives all around the country setting up at music festivals like Bonarro and Coachella and gives out free ice cream. He tricks up some corporate sponsorships to cover his costs and has a blast doing it. Hell, this summer the White Stripes cooked up their own promotional ice cream boxes just for this guy to pass out around the USA. So while sucking down a creamsicle, we get to talking. He asks what band I’m in and when I say the Dirtbombs he responds with “I LOVE THE DIRTBOMBS.” He then goes on to tell me how the Gories are possibly his favorite band ever and that he was lobbying hard all summer to try and get the Dirtbombs at McCarren Pool in Brooklyn. We had a good talk and even had super-top-secret discussions about possible coups at Coachella 2008. Please do check out his website at www.icecreamman.com

I really barely saw anyone play at the Mercury Lounge when I really wanted to see EVERYONE play that night. The Turbo Fruits wholly won me over with the ringing, Who-esque power chords and nimble, “Achilles Last Stand” reminiscing bass picking of a song called “Broadzilla.” It was far and away the best song they would perform, with a cover of “Ramblin’ Rose” that was memorable as well.

I watched a couple of Cheap Time songs and can’t remember what I thought. My mind was not in it.

The Intelligence were next and the sloppy, fat bass lines coming out of their teensy-weensy Korg synth were all I needed to remember how much I love this band.

Miss Alex White and the Red Orchestra are so fucking underrated it hurts. Her Space and Time record makes me feel good all over. Songs like “In the Snow” with it’s Misfits-meets-Stooges meter, or the heartwarming lyrical simplicity and brilliance of “Space and Time” recalling a Goffin-King composition for the Crystals, there’s nary a dud on this album. And the handful of minutes I watched them live was as exceptional as I’d hoped. They could very well be cursed as one of those bands who’s appreciation will never measure up to their importance. These songs are timeless and you’re a sap if you fail to realize.

Jay Reatard is more genius than you can shake a stick at. While I was too late for his original version of the Reatards and only ever liked about ¼ of the stuff the Lost Sounds did (“Plastic Skin” is definitely worth your search efforts), his solo output is impeccable. And in the live theater, he does everything right. With a set that tops out at 20 minutes, there’s nary a breath in between songs. Instead, it’s song-after-song of four count drummer intros exploding into breakneck pop-punk paralysis. The band is crazy tight and jams like “Hammer I Miss You”, “My Shadow” and “I Know a Place” are what the label bigwigs are listening to when they’re losing their shit over Mr. Linsdsay claiming he could be the Golden Child who dethrones emo. Universal, Matador, Geffen and Polydent were all in attendance this night, chomping at the big to get Jay to wax for their imprints. Even money says he Hancock’s with whoever offers the most cheese and delivers them a steaming-pile of Metal Machine madness, laughing all the way to the liquor store.

The Dirtbombs were alright. Not great, not terrible. It was one of those shows where the band felt non-plussed by the performance, but anyone with a tongue was wagging it with praise afterwards. Meh.

Breakfast in Jersey City. Mick got shitty service but I was happy with mine. Our orders were included together on one check. He left a $1 tip because the waitress wench goofed up his order big time. But with our bills included together, how’s the best way for me to tip the lady accordingly, yet make it clear Mick was dissatisfied with his service? There’s no simple answer here and the entire situation is rife for lampooning on an upcoming episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Mick and I drove through the Friday Brooklyn rain in search of the Academy Records Annex. I’d gleaned good things about the shop online and from Jeffrey Novak (who’d run into Blowhan Kugelberg the last time he visited the shop) so despite tepid warnings from our booking agent (and I quote “It’s not worth your time,”) we slowly inched our way down the BQE and made upon the shop.

Kids, always listen to your booking agent.

Don’t get me wrong, there were cool records there. But they were cool records I already owned. Academy Records Annex would have been a great place to visit when I was 15 years old. But now, I can tell that the hipster employees are snaking the primo stuff for themselves while what ends up on the racks is blah-worthy. I was prepared to spend big but bought absolutely nothing there

Soundchecked at Southpaw, ate leftover pizza in the basement and then walked the Park Slope streets with Mick. I stood outside Beacon’s Closet while Mick made some funk purchase inside. A couple feet away from me, a child, no more than 12-years-old, in moppish hair and Harry Potter specs, perpetually circling a tree and chatting on a cell phone. Here’s what I hear from the conversation:

“Yeah man, totally sorry we had to get out of there. Yeah dude, I’m really, really sorry. But do not worry. Come by later and we will totally get you in on this blunt. It’s gonna be crazy. You’ll have to get some of this blunt.”

It was then when I wondered if there was a phone number I could call to report possible pending pre-pubescent stupidity.

We eventually trek on down to Norton Records HQ. A more comforting place we could not find. Billy Miller and Miriam Linna are possibly the best hosts we will ever encounter. Not only do they open their expansive home and record collection for us to visit, explore, dig thru, etc…but they offer drinks, showers, t-shirts and all kinds of other hospitality that is refreshing. They apologized that the place was cluttered due to the upcoming WFMU Record Fair. Mick and I had no qualms, we sat back and listened to the hi-fi, explaining that nothing makes either of us feel more at home than a room packed to the brim with records, posters, magazines and all the ephemera and trappings of the record nerd’s life. I picked up the Los Saicos 10”, the new Mary Weiss single, King Khan and BBQ’s Crypt 7”, Ricky and the Impressionables Band “Baco Walk” single, the Sound of Young Sacramento 7” comp from SAMCC Records and a Prince Albert/Psychedelic Psymphone split single on Arcania International. I entirely recommend the SAMCC single, as the Fugitives doing "Blowin' My Mind" is the best Sixties garage punk I've heard since Quagmire 1 intro'd me to "Don't Want Ya No More" by Mogen David and the Grapes of Wrath. Both are essential.

A choppy phone call from an Australian promoter regarding Dbomb dates in March was unceremoniously lost to the ether when my cell ran out of juice. I missed the Turbo Fruits and only saw a bit of the Intelligence. I used the Southpaw’s house drum kit and it sounded/felt crisp. After a shaky start that involved gibberish lyrics to Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs”, we eventually hit on a groove and by the time we sunk our teeth into the Black Lips “Oh Katrina” we had the crowd eating out of our hands. It’s a great feeling seeing people the whole room over slowly realize that they know a song in another form. The raised eyebrows, re-assuring nods to friends and fists pumping in the air are much appreciated by this drummer.

The highlight of the show, the weekend and (in my opinion) the entire year was the way we ended “Theme From the Dirtbombs.” What usually descends into schloppy noise gunk somehow caught onto a wicked loop that we chewed on for near-on four solid minutes. I thought it kinda sounded like Can krautrock mixed with A-Frames atonality. I was playing my fucking balls off, hitting the drums as hard as I could after already playing for over an hour. It was a stuttered, Mitch Mitchell wannabe beat coupled with Mick’s effected, Mission of Burma guitar slashes and similar wickedness from Pat, Troy and Ko. The whole time we were locked in all I could think was “I can’t be the one to stop. I can’t be the one to fuck up.” It was SO-DAMN-INTENSE! And in the end, no one did either. While an internal test of wills, we were able to commence together and stumble offstage, wholly pooped. I felt a level of self-accomplishment that I’ve never really experienced before. We did an encore, but the show was made with that ending.

Mick and I would PATH train into Manhattan and as if lemmings to the cliff, once again found ourselves at St. Mark’s Place. I bought biographies of Ya Ho Wa and Moondog, Naomi Wolfe’s End of America and the audio version of Colbert’s I Am America and So Can You! A quick trip to Metropolis vintage clothing had me pick up another pair of Levi’s 517’s to throw on the ever-growing pile along with a rugby tournament t-shirt from ’79 and a classic yellow phys ed shirt from a school named Belleview. I live for vintage phys ed t-shirts and it’s a dream of mine to one day have a full collection of shirts of all the classic Detroit public high schools, with particular favorites I’m looking for being Henry Ford (Trojans), Cass Tech (Technicians), Chadsey (Explorers) and Cody (Comets). Any help or trade offers will be greatly appreciated.

Showed up at Maxwell’s late, took forever to park (but there’s always something great about ending up on the street Frank Sinatra Drive) and finally ended up playing my own shitty drum set. The cruddy penne pasta from the Maxwell’s band menu (a scourge among most touring outfits) was only saved by my foresight in ordering the Oreo Cookie cheese cake. Oh so good. I watched almost all of the Turbo Fruits set and I will again declare that “Broadzilla” is one of the best songs I’ve heard all year. I cannot wait to hear a recording of it and if Ecstatic Peace doesn’t have their grimey paws already all over it, I just may try and slip it on a Cass side.

The Intelligence were at their best at Maxwell’s. I was finally able to catch a sizable chunk of their set. Only complaint is that they didn’t pull-out the classic song from their debut single, “Mindfuck’em.”

The Dirtbombs set…whatever. Maxwell’s is home away from home for us. Ko didn’t have a guitar amp (originally supposed to borrow from Jay Reatard, but he cancelled and Turbo Fruits had to jet immediately after their set) so she used Troy’s and he played direct and couldn’t hear himself. We played a few tricks we haven’t done in awhile…like “Encrypted” and “Wheatland” and as per Lars’ request “Little Miss Chocolate Syrup” into “Can’t Stop Thinking About It” like we used to in the Potter-Diamond salad days.

Mick and I rose early Sunday morn and kicked Pennsylvania’s I-80 ass. Have you tried the cheescake bites from Arby’s yet? Oh my lord. Do so with utmost haste. And TA travel centers should still have the 3lb. bag of Haribo gummi bears for $7. Those things have lasted over a week and I’m still not tired of them. Mick and I spin the final, mastered copy of the Dirtbombs We Have You Surrounded and after “Ever Loving Man” he remarks “I don’t know if we’ll ever record a more perfect song than that.” And I have to agree.

And I guess I’ve kinda abandoned the original intended arc of this entry…comparing the Dirtbombs first CMJ five years ago with the one from 2007. I forgot to tell you about how I helped my boss at Car City load into the WFMU Record Fair at some ungodly hour. But because of said help, I was able to scour tables before the public was let in. I spent way too much money, but justified it by only being 20-years-old. I got an original copy of No New York as well as the Beaux Jens “She Was Mine” and a couple-hundred dollars worth of more records that I can’t remember specifically as I spent an equally-absurd amount at WFMU the following year and now they’re both kind of blobbing together in my mind.

We played with the Kills, Electric 6, Datsuns, Rock and Roll Machine and Von Bondies all on the same night. I have soundboard recordings of every band's performance that night. We unloaded from the Bowery Ballroom while OK GO was soundchecking the next day. We saw “Pray For Pills” spray-painted on a building. I helped a friend make a crossword puzzle. Ran into Steve Turner from Mudhoney on the street. I regretfully ditched a chance to sit front-row for Saturday Night Live featuring Jay-Z as musical guest so that Potter and I could be home early Sunday morning. We got lost somewhere on the Garden State Parkway. The van was cold. He again drove all the way. Much like I did this year. While time, characters and background may change, it all seems like the story is always the same. Records are bought, food is eaten, shows are played, and after some time, the differentiating details are lost amidst the hubris.

How I Critique Musique...

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D-Tails and D-Construction of D-Tour Launch...

Friday night found me catching the last few songs of Carjack's set. Beginning to like him more and more. As a wise man once said, you can't have Detroit without a good carjack. There was a brief moment where his backing track was a spot-on replica of Suicide's drum machine sound. I first had that feeling when some DJ in Europe played Dead Combo's "You Don't Look So Good" (an overlooked classic if there ever was) and you think it'd happen a lot more. But it doesn't. Good for us. Check out CJ's cd-r/demo/whatever and dig on the total Kraftwerk instrumental of "Carbot's Departure"...beautifully sparse and pastoral in an unexpected yet totally welcome change of pace or "departure." Get it?

The Terrible Twos wreaked havoc after that. I can safely say that the Garden Bowl lounge has, pound for pound, hosted an overwhelming majority of my favorite shows in this town. Greenhornes on Superbowl Sunday '99 (2 sets), Soledad Brothers where Swank handed me the drumstix, Clone Defects a billion times, John Gillis solo '01, a rare Patrick Keeler-Tim Vulgar-Jack White jam session from some long-forgotten date in 2001 as well as my first-ever vocal performance, while on drums, doing "Stormy" by the Jesters of Newport.

So the Twos were on and the freaks came out. Within the first thirty seconds of the first song the overzealous security goon had kicked out Colin of the Frustrations for punk shit...you know, pogoing, slamming, whatever it is the kids are calling it these days. More than a few people were awkwardly hoisted over-head in an almost stationary crowd surf precariously trying to avoid the ever-present ceiling fan. This is the way and place that I like to see shows.

And apparently the owners have taken note. I've been told the Garden Bowl will start having more consistent free shows in their lounge. It's more likely to be shows that would usually be upstairs at the Stick and draw 50 people. So instead of constantly reliving that miserable prospect, bands will get paid a flat fee, people will get in for free, the club will rely on bigger bar receipts and in the end EVERYONE enjoys the evening so much more.

The Go did their thing upstairs at the Stick. I kinda prefer when Bobby's just singing. His guitar playing is nothing bad, but the guitar itself is so unpowerful and forgettable. I can't help but worry that the rest of the world will never truly understand or appreciate the genius of these guys. I truly hope they discover their place, because the world needs more bands with their skill and determination. Seeing them in bigger spaces leads me to wonder whether their better-suited as a 5-piece. However, when the crash into "Meet Me at the Movies" no one seems to care and for a brief moment it's as if everything is perfect.

While my personal coney preference is clearly Duly's in Southwest Detroit, my after-show go-to is always American Coney Island. Forget that Mack Rice supposedly wrote "Mustang Sally" at Lafayette. Forget that Lafayette is supposedly where Fred and Patti Smith met. There's no feeling in that place. Too often an old restaurant or club or hotel is trumpeted for the fact that it hasn't changed, that it's been the same since the Thirties or whatever. Half the time that's a good thing. But on Lafayette, I call bullshit. It is uncomfortable, small and sub-par. And the place doesn't even stay open 24 hours! It's no contest. I prefer the sophistication that comes with American's Flatiron-esque vista of two avenues meeting at a V. I can get past the gaudy sports-bar decoration of the place and long for the time when a place naming itself "American" was a sign of pride. Disagree? Bring it on in the comments.

Saturday started at the CAID and the pushed-back scheduling left me having to endure the last half of the Nice Device. How do you type the sound a yawn makes? They sound like bland, sanitized 89x modern rock. Which is good for them, because that has to be what they're going for, as there's no way such mediocrity can be confused for anything else. Didn't the singer used to be in some Indigo Girls folk act?

Following that lameness was the long-awaited return of SSM. I was really slow to warm to this band when they started up two years ago. My initial sentiment was that I'd rather see each one of the band members in their previous/other band....John in the Hentchmen, Marty with the Cyril Lords and Shettler in the classic Sights three-piece line-up. I passed up a chance to put out a 7" by them because I just wasn't "feeling it." That was my loss.

With time, their self-titled album has grown on me like ivy at Wrigley Field. The first three songs (which were the proposed 7" tunes) are flawless and the memorable moments do not stop there. The craft behind songs like "Dinosaur" and "2012" as well as "Sick" is phenomenal and the whole thing is easily one of the best full-lengths to emerge from Detroit in the past 10 years.

Their performance was solid. All the old songs held their weight. Was glad to see Shettler without the drum machine, but then thought that the newer songs sounded a bit thin in the rhythm department. I'm also a fan of them without the light show. Focus on the tunes and the crowd will focus on you. Dare I say I'm excited to hear what their upcoming full-length has to offer.

Walked in halfway through the Mahonies' Garden Bowl set. I'd first been hipped to these guys last year when word on the street was that they'd be doing an impromptu guerrilla gig through an unguarded power supply at Tastefest. Some douche told me the wrong time and I missed it. So this would be my first time seeing the Mahonies and it was perfection. I'd missed the band-sponsored coney eating contest (won by Hunter Muldoon with a respectable four coney dogs downed) but was otherwise wowed with their otherworldly absurdly dumb genius. Like the Ramones, the Stooges, the Sneaky Pinks before them...you either get it instantly or are perpetually confused. And a song written about Clone Defects bassist Chuck Fogg? Unreal! I must've had 4 different people come up to tell me the Mahonies were their new favorite band. And I'm in agreement with them. I got to get them on Cass...it should be possible to fit 8 songs on one side of a 45.

Freer upstairs was horrid. Someone mentioned to me that they'd seen lots of bands lately with a piano-playing lead singer. Interested and thinking they'd meant local bands, I inquired "Really?" to which they replied, "Yeah. Coldplay, Keane..." And that's the unfavorable company I would lump Freer in with. And in a lot of ways, I love this.

I love the fact that I've been hearing about this band for God-knows how long and keep making that mental note that I still need to check them out. Even if what I've read about them has failed to intrigue me or spark my interest, I still gotta know what's up, in my own opinion, on my own terms, for my own sake. So to finally see this band and be able to say in my own voice that they are shitty...nothing beats that. Still on the to-see-if-they're-shitty list: Johnny Headband, Bang Bang, Ghost City and a ton of other shit that is most-likely shitty.

The unexpected (unexplained?) return of Ko and the Knockouts drew a sizable crowd at the Stick. The Decks crew were up front in full-effect and singing and dancing like the lovable fools they are. Eddie Baranek is surprisingly captivating onstage when he's not drunk off his ass. Ko was a little spotty at first, but eventually found her footing.

Good heckles heard were: as Ko said "This many people didn't like us when we were really a band..." to which some smartass replied "We still don't!" and when Baranek introduced a song as being "written in my US History after 1945 class" a razor-witted one remarked "Get your degree!" And that is my new favorite band taunt. Get a degree. Don't hesitate to use it. Steve Nawara joined for the last few songs and they ended with "Black and Blue" their best-known song as featured on the Sympathetic Sounds of Detroit compilation that no one ever got paid for.

Downstairs immediately afterwards were the Frustrations. While the crowd reaction was tepid (most likely in response to the same overzealous security guard from the previous night in attendance) it did not keep this collection of weirdos from destroying. When they cruised into "Exploding Mind" I moved more than I would all weekend. Dancy? Calypso? Is Dunkerly finally listening to some Fire*Eater drumming? Either way, shit was tits.

Random unsolicited Matt Smith comment:
"It's like (GI) meets Band of Gypsies"

And allow me a brief aside on the topic of unsolicited Matt Smith comments. Matt is always coming up with these zany pairings of bands to try and describe something. I think the first one I ever was privy to was him comparing the Buzzards to Motorhead and the Velvet Underground, and I'm sure they were doing something like having a tea party in Valhalla or some bullshit. The thing is, whenever Matt makes these distinctions, while he may be somewhat close to describing the sound, he just sounds so asinine that I can't help and discredit EVERYTHING he says afterwards. He's so immersed in obscure records and recordings to notice the obvious and likely comparisons for bands. And, for some reason, this really irritates me.

Anyway, to end their set, Colin from the Frustrations climbs on a chair and smacks his guitar down on a cocktail table. He breaks a few bottles, nothing crazy, but nevertheless a good ending exclamation point for the show that would ultimately end in utter mayhem.

The previously-mentioned overzealous security guard took this as an affront and overreacted. He was closely followed by an heretofore unmentioned security guard (it's worth mentioning both of these guys are pretty damned new to the job). One of them goes after Colin and the other grabs his guitar. Big no-no. Don't ever touch anyone else's guitar even when they let you. Let alone some burly dude who's probably never held one before and is likely to break the instrument that Colin built himself.

Chris Campbell of the Terrible Twos (essentially big brother to the Frustrations guys) calmly tries to grab the guitar back and this other security guard flies off the handle. He grabs Chris, starts unnecessarily pushing him out the door where Chris is clearly willing to do so of his own volition. I got in the guy's face for a second and said "You need to chill out" and was fucking scared to shit. He had the crazy-eyed stare and I backed off. While still being pushed out the door Chris spit in his face and shit went nuts.

The security guard immediately threw a punch at Campbell, grazing his head. The force of the blow jarred Chris' head backwards and that, coupled with the subsequent follow-through of the punch, shattered the glass on the front door to the Magic Stick.

Chris continued to leave (as it was clear he was already set to do) and the security guard was flying off the handle at this point, chasing Chris down the street and very audibly threatening to kill him. The other security guard at this point was attempting to restrain the unruly one. It was kinda funny, if only for a second.

A mass of people crowded outside but nothing much happened from there. Chris was fine, a small knot on his forehead was practically unnoticeable. The bouncer was rightly fired on the spot and the higher-ups at the club planned an upcoming meeting on how to deal with punk rock situations.

Aftershow back at the CAID and I finally got to check out this Charlie Slick that all the kids are talking about. While the performance was a tad engaging (flashing lights, bubble machine, confetti), the music was god-awful. I've got no stomach for the mid-80's UK fey electro-pop, let alone a tired re-hash of it twenty years late. I understand people want to dance and believe in something, but the singer's voice is static and unremarkable while his dance moves are high school drama club embarrassing. Too often something is touted just for being different or original without taking a step back for some perspective. And that seems to be the case with Charlie Slick.

As for Detour itself...I don't know what to make of it. It's basically a Detroit-centric website full of pop culture detritus. Movies, music, television...I guess they took their cue from the It Came From Culture City blog. It's cool to have a website that puts on shows and will be somewhat active in promoting cultural happenings in this town, but in the end, I still prefer Steve-O.

Asking the Tough Questions About Rock and Roll Music...

I am by no means an end-all, be-all repository of rock and roll knowledge. And armchair rock and roll repartee is rampant with claims of firsts…shit like whether or not Jackie Brenson and His Delta Cats “Rocket 88” from 1951 is the first rock and roll song is purely arbitrary. But collected below are some questions that have been bugging me for awhile (and some that I just made up) that I feel can be answered one way or another. Anyone who can solidly prove or disprove any of these questions as fact is strongly encouraged to post the relevant, fact-checked information in the comments section. Also feel welcome to ask your own questions. Hurry. I may just participate in the comments. This just might be fun.

1) Is Bo Diddley the first performer to reference himself by his full name in his own song? Is Bo Diddley the first performer to use his name as the title for a song?

(I know most of the old bluesmen…Robert Johnson, Blind Willie McTell… refer to themselves in their songs, but I can’t think of a specific example of one using their full name)

2) Is Frank Zappa’s “Freak Out” the first LP packaged in a gatefold sleeve?

(I don’t even own a copy of this record, but I know it came before “Sgt. Pepper’s” which is usually credited with the honor)

3) Is the Beatles “Back in the USSR” the first example of irony in pop music?

(please be thorough and refer to a proper dictionary definition of the word irony. This one will be hard, but I honestly think it’s a pretty important distinction)

4) Is the photo in the gatefold of the Stooges Funhouse LP the first example of ripped jeans in pop music? In popular culture?

(Again, hard to prove, but terribly important)

5) Is the Jarvis Street Revue’s “Mr. Oil Man” the first environmentally-minded LP/song?

(Only other one of remotely the same time period is Marvin’s What’s Goin’ On LP from 1971. JSR is from 1970)

6) Is Ricky Wilson’s four-string guitar the first instance of a guitarist purposefully omitting strings to obtain a specific sound?

(I’m almost certain there’s examples of people doing this just for a recording session…but not so sure that I can name any particulars...can you? But is Wilson the first to do this and stick by it?

7) Is there a band before the Gories whose drummer used no cymbals, no snare drum and no kick drum?

(Uh…if I need be more specific, how about a drummer in a ROCK band)

8) Was Sub Pop’s Singles Club the first 7” subscription club?

(I’m lazy…)

9) Is the White Stripes “Lafayette Blues” single the first double B-side 7”?

(I’m lazy still…)

10) Is Whirlwind Heat’s “Do Rabbits Wonder?” the first album to have all the song titles be the names of colors?

(Everyone always says there’s some jazz record that’s already done this, but no one ever seems to be able to name that jazz record)

The Art of the Band T-Shirt...a Perspective

Not too long ago I helped some valued friends work on a book about the history of band t-shirts. The whole process excited me and I learned a lot on the way. For example, each t-shirt featured in the book needed to be cleared by the band/their management before being used. Now my legal training is relegated mainly to weaseling out of parking tickets, but common sense would've led me to believe that an image a band has licensed to be manufactured on wearables should be fair game for publishables. And it could quite possibly be that way and the folks over at Simon and Schuster were just being cautious.

Either way, I still think it's pretty cool that David Byrne gave permission for them to use a bootleg Talking Heads t-shirt design. And it's lame that Grandmaster Flash wouldn't let them use his awesome '81 tour t-shirt complete with Sugar Hill Records logo printed on the reverse.

My main duties for the book involved interviewing rock stars and rounding up a variety of shirts for possible inclusion in the book. Included are such personal jams of mine like a baseball-style 3/4 length red sleeve from the first run of White Stripes tees, a thrift-store salvaged Gories black cat (later edition, printed after the screen for the white trim around the letters broke), a Jonathan Fire Eater monstrosity complete with band-supplied blood stains bleached-out, a couple of Sonic Youth prints and some more I'm forgetting.

Personally, my only problem with The Art of the Band T-shirt is the six pages dedicated to Blood on the Wall t-shirts that are, at best, faintly memorable. Otherwise, this portable tome rates head and shoulders above the trashy, fashion photo'd Johan Kugelberg curated Vintage Rock Tees (available at shitty Urban Outfitters near you) or the laughable dribble of Rock Tease. Both the latter books focus primarily on the 70's and 80's era of rock and roll t-shirts whereas The Art of the Band T-shirt has no set cut-off date for band inclusion. Conversely, The Art of the Band T-shirt provides way more historical background and storyline with each piece mentioned whereas the other two toilet rolls, more often than not, just give you a picture of a t-shirt lacking any relevant context or story.

Hilariously though, all three books include the Jamie Reid designed, promo-only Sex Pistols Never Mind the Bollocks... shirt printed inside out with both the front and back cover of the LP depicted on the front and back of this shirt. Granted, the shirt is BADASS and supposedly the print resembles properties more similar to a latex applique as opposed to standard t-shirt ink. But badass enough to warrant inclusion in all three books?

Plus, the other two books are particularly white. Mainly old shirts of boring old white musicians. The Art... features such United Colors of Benetton diversity as 95 South, Public Enemy, James Brown, the Boredoms, Afrika Bambaataa, Run DMC, Rick James, Martha and the Vandellas, MF Doom, etc. This book feels more American than either of the other two. And in turn, American is always better.

So I hereby give my full support behind The Art of the Band T-shirt and urge all twelve of you faithful readers to up and purchase a copy. To spur the possible purchasing, I am offering two (2) copies here as a giveaway. Whoever emails me or posts a comment here with the best/funniest/most amazing t-shirt find/story/dream/whatever will soon become the proud owner of a copy of The Art of the Band T-shirt (I really prefer the comments, you know, just in case you want to win). Also, positive comments on the Amazon Reviews page for this book will possibly be taken into consideration for extra credit.

Feel free to answer the standard t-shirt questionnaire I used on all the stars and post it in the comments.

What was your first rock band t-shirt?
What was/is your favorite rock band t-shirt?
What was/is the most annoying rock band t-shirt or design?
What do you think is the most iconic rock band t-shirt or image?