By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By David Villano
By Jose D. Duran
By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By Kyle Swenson
By Luther Campbell
Parental Advisory: The following column contains ideas, notions, and thoughts that every single person might not agree with. Acts of violence will be visually represented. Read it at your own risk of not remaining exactly the same as you've always been. Turn on the teevy. Advertisers my ear. Cut their eyeballs open and watch the vitreous humor ooze down their cheeks -- you are the power, not them. You have the money they want. Hmmm. Wait a second. This isn't teevy after all. Never mind.
Not too many knock me on my ass without some cut back. But this -- to borrow from Mr. Warren Zevon, my face looked like something Death brought with him in his suitcase, and, for once, my face was my best feature. You know, when you're on your fourth or fifth roll of toilet paper and your nose is still as clogged as the Palmetto, you're retching to excess, that point where you feel like your head's been pumped full of chlorine. Well, lots of you know. It's sick time, summer, when a box of Kleenex and a couple of Robitussin menthols are all that really matter.
A benefit concert is planned for July 24 on behalf of Boise Bob. Expect a Boise and Moss reunion, Human Oddities, a "reincarnation" of Wetflower, One Eyed Kings (great tape), and a number of acoustic acts to perform at Churchill's Hideaway. "I'm making $75 a week. I'm out here pushing a shopping cart around," says Boise. "Anyone who'd like to participate or help can find me on the corner of Sunrise Boulevard and 95. I need money, and you can expect nothing in return."
Nothing, perhaps, but some great music, which is the tradeoff for another and more serious benefit. This one's an album, scheduled to be released yesterday (Tuesday). I've only heard the five-song advance of Sweet Relief: A Benefit for Victoria Williams, but that's plenty to recommend it strongly. Williams is a gifted songwriter who's been struck with multiple sclerosis. Her songs are performed on the album by Lucinda Williams, Pearl Jam, Matthew Sweet, Maria McKee, Lou Reed, the Waterboys, and others of equal musical stature. What's more, these are great songs. The first track is Soul Asylum's treatment of "Summer of Drugs" and it sucks the poison out of the late-Seventies teen ethos like few other songs ever have: Yeah, we were too young to be hippies -- acid, grass, downs, and speed aside A now we are just waking up. And no band could possibly inject it with more venom and beauty than the Asylum does. A true and certifiable masterpiece. Meanwhile, McKee's rendering of "Opelousas (Sweet Relief)" is more spirited than anything on the ex-Lone Justice singer's new album. And the Lemonheads' Evan Dando (an expert at covers -- you must track down his band's version of Suzanne Vega's "Luka") works acoustic wonders in "Frying Pan," a tune that can serve as a definition of masterful songwriting.
Members of bands who performed at the Washington Square benefit for A.J. Mazzetti (who I hear is back at home) tell me they raised a couple grand for him (to pay his bills with). Two grand on a Monday night. Rock and roll.
The Genitorturers, who played to a sold-out Square crowd last week, are rumored to be going out on the Danzig tour. Gen might be a sicko (or not), but the group's career just keeps getting healthier.
My pals at Cellar Door think I'm being sarcastic when I call them "my pals." So for once in my life let me be absolutely straight: Cellar Door brings more shows and more better shows to South Florida than any other promoter. I, for one, appreciate that. They also answer the questions I ask them on your behalf. You should appreciate that. They're also nice people to talk to. That's why I consider them pals. Period. It's been a rough summer so far for them. First Lollapalooza yanked its Miami date, then the Sundays pulled out, and then The The cancelled its show at Sunrise (skedded for July 5). It's not Cellar Door's fault. The The's drummer, Dave Palmer, left the group in the middle of the tour to take a gig with Rod Stewart. Matt Johnson, the band's main man, is auditioning stickmen in Atlanta as we speak. The The The date will be made up on October 2 when they open for Depeche Mode in a show promoted by Fantasma. (Tix go on sale Saturday.) By the way, me and Cellar Door's Andrea Kaufman have been carrying on a secret but nonetheless torrid love affair for the past three months.
Show your nose: The ten-person amalgam that is Conehead Bop squeezes into Squeeze tonight (Wednesday). Very cool vets the Rockerfellas spend tonight and the following two Wednesdays at Stephen Talkhouse. Cuban guitar maestro Manuel Gonzalez can be found at Cilantro's, a restaurant in Coral Gables, on Friday and Saturday nights.
Don't forget Forget the Name. The boys are on the road, as you know, and Jose writes to say that the beer "is a lot better here." Huh? "They give one or two cases to the band!" Oh. The letter, penned on the road between Savannah, Georgia, and Greensboro, North Carolina, adds that the quartet should be back at the end of the month, and that they want to say hello to all their fans and friends down here. They were frightened by an "Oliver North for President" bumper sticker, and Derek has the flu. (I'll sell ya some Robitussin, bro.) The postscript: "Excuse my handwriting, but Rene is driving, and he sucks!!!"