Most rockabilly lyrics freely express sex as a positive thing

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ANDY STARR started out saying things like, "Yeah, we had a good time. It was the era of Elvis Presley . . . " - it sounded like I was talking to Eisenhower. Next time I talked to him he said, "You know, Bill, I didn't tell you, but I had sex with over 5000 women! ... Did I tell you about the time this guy was shooting at my car - his wife was hiding in the back seat while I had two blondes in the front!" He called me up and said, "Billy, I'm doing these big shows now - I'll send you photos." Then he sent these pictures, and he's singing in front of a potato chip rack.

I lost my mind. It was so fucking nasty and sexy. Dirty music.

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“I was sitting there and watching the Cramps, they were out of tune and falling all over the place. It was a trainwreck, so when they finished their audition, Hilly told them that they had failed and they were practically crying. I told them they could play at Max's, as long as they showed up with a tuning machine. They came down a couple of days later and Jayne will tell you, people were looking at me with that expression of what the hell was I thinking? I said, "Just wait, you will see." Suicide played on the same bill as the Cramps and it was a perfect match up. You have the hillbilly version and the New York City Times Square version.” Lux Interior: "We opened for Suicide a lot. We couldn't believe it. Marty was great at what he did, but Alan ... if somebody got up to go to the bathroom, he'd leap up and take the mic stand and block their path with it. He'd do stuff like that all the time intimidating the audience. It could get really scary sometimes."

People say we're abnormally sex obsessed, like it's an unusual leaning

 

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I had to stand out and look in the windows, but there were these girls, just the sexiest girls that you've ever seen in the tightest clothes and the one great dance was the Bug. I thought it was the greatest one ever, 'cos they'd just do all this stuff, they'd move around and touch themselves all over, searching themselves as if they had a bug on them, just like a cat or something, and they would just be grabbing it from every place they shouldn't have been, and then finally they'd grab it, and they'd throw it on the person next to them and then that girl would start doing her dance - oh, man. It was kind of a dance; it was more like a conniption fit, but wow, a very sexy dance.

''You fuckers will never play here again!"

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They were some wild, drinkin', crazy people, with a really dark sense of humor, and who loved to pick fights that they could not win. The show in Amsterdam was both of us opening for the Chesterfield Kings. So the Teasers just insulted the Chesterfield Kings the entire set, right at the front of the stage. 'Fuck you, You idiots!' They'd even made these quick homemade signs with 'You Suck!' 'Fuck You!' Now the Kings were not wimpy guys, a couple of them were real bruisers, and they were really mad. 'As soon as this set's over we're gonna kick all of yer asses!' And the Teasers are just laughin' and laughin'... So the set's over, the Kings rush out to the parking lot to get to the Teasers, who are now totally shit-faced and still talking shit - these little tiny Scottish guys. And one of the Kings grabs the Teasers guitarist and starts threatening him bad, about to really tear into him. And the Teasers guitarist goes, 'Oh, yer a big man, picking on the wee li-ill faggot like me. Ho, you're a big man!' He's out of his mind drunk, but using this amazing psychology on the guy. So after five minutes of this, the Kings guy pushed him away and says, 'All right, I'm not even gonna fuck with you, you faggot!' And it defuses the whole situation. It was amazing to behold.

punk rock was right up there with fags and abortions

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“Uh, guys, can somebody untie me?”

“Hmm . . . how about Mexican?”

“Nah, had it yesterday. Chinese?”

“I’m not that hungry, but let’s go someplace with a bar.”

“Godammit, can you guys untie me?”

“Hell, let’s just go downstairs and grab something in the bar then.”

“Sounds good, we won’t have to deal with cabs.”

“I’m gonna kill you bastards!”

“You hear something, Stiv?

“Untie me you motherfuckers!”

“Must have been my imagination—let’s go eat!”

Every spare second is spent drawing monsters & building wild cars

 

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Somewhere along the way, Rat Fink burrowed a little deeper into his nasty rat hole, allowing the encroaching sappiness of mid-'60s flower power to pollute every strata of Americana. Cruddiness gave way to cuteness. Spritely little Trolls with cotton-candy colored manes replaced Mothers Worry on dashboards, while wide-eyed kiddies and peace symbols printed on horrendous tie-dyed teeshirts took sales from meticulously screened and airbrushed Weirdos. Meaningful slogans like "Eat My Dust" "Irresistible Beast" and "Wild Child" were buried by more "Make Love, Not War" bumper stickers than you'd care to shake a stick at! But the Finkworld as we knew and loved it was not forgotten. Once a Rat Fink, always a Rat Fink. Small echelons of sloppy, lazy Rat Finks clung on through the dry years.

Just kids out looking for kicks, and not worried about how hip they look

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‘‘I’d always wanted to dig the song, but I never permitted myself to because I thought there was a real distinction between rock ’n’ roll artists, musical workmen, and these fly-by-nights like the Count Five and the groups that played at the dances I went to. Eventually I realized that everybody steals their material and is heavily influenced by just about everybody else, and my tastes began to change radically. I suddenly found it an effort to listen to the more ‘arty’ rock (Beatles, Beach Boys, Jefferson Airplane) and that I much preferred the hard crude sound of groups like the Seeds, the Fugs, the Who, etc. And when I would go to dances and hear local teenagers, school friends of mine even—non-heads even!—turn around in the middle of ‘I’m a Man’ and roll off on a thirty-minute electric raga, plasticizing the beat, crouching in front of their amps for feedback, and knocking me out, really turning me on more than anything on record, that was when I finally was enlightened.’’

Wanda Jackson sounded like she could fry eggs on her mons veneris

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It was the voodoo of radio and jukeboxes that brought the new music to the ears and feet of post war beboppers. No one knew what to call it, whether it were fish or fowl, but Dewey Phillips understood it instinctively. He talked that down home hipster jive and jumped to radio right out of a record shop on Beale Street. He never learned how to operate a control board, but his show Red Hot and Blue was a smash hit with the public. WHBQ put George Klein in the control room to make sure that Dewey didn't wreck the studio on his night time slot. Every declaration, expletive, hoot and holler Dewey spewed on the air was infused with rollicking tribal power. He played the rocking guitar picking, gospel shouting Sister Rosetta Tharpe right along side of the corn whiskey and amphetamine fuelled pumping piano of Jerry Lee Lewis. The records got into the hands of DJs with the compliments of Sam's brother, Jud Phillips. Due to the promotional efforts of Jud Phillips, the Sun label broke across the Mid South hotter than a fresh fucked fox in a forest fire. - Tav Falco

rhyming speedfreak who introduced every song as 'The Greasy Chicken'

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When looking at an album of music you know nothing about, song titles can help—for example: “She’s My Witch,” “I’m Gonna Murder My Baby,” “Mama Keep Your Big Mouth Shut,” and “Evil” are all good song titles, and they are all great songs ... Places with a higher murder or insanity rate usually produced a lot of good music, Memphis and Detroit being two fine examples. Same goes for places with a lot of drunks, like New Orleans and Texas. Eventually you may learn to recognize what gentlemen with beards call “regional styles.” For example, black guitar players from Memphis played too loud through broken speakers; this was good. Drummers from New Orleans were usually drunk and fucked up, so if they couldn’t find the beat they’d just play a march and call it “second line.” ... Pittsburgh’s WAMO boasted the legendary Porky Chadwick—“the daddio of the raddio, a head snapper and dapper rapper, a porkulatin’ platter pushin’ poppa.” He wasn’t “Cary Grant but can do what he can’t” and got his “PhD in insanity at the University of Spinner Sanctum” where he always had a grape in his ear “to make my head ferment.”

where have all the bad girls gone?

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The amazing WOMEN IN CRIME magazine which thrived through the 1940s and '50s dealt with female criminals only, glorifying the fair sex in a most equal manner. Delivered in the pages of WIC are murderers, robbers, traitors, sadists - all women. Hardly the pathetic lily-livered femmes that saturate other types of modern literature, the young woman of the JD novel is The Boss, as she should be. - Miriam Linna

Three tough looking waterfront hookers were introduced, and I was particularly struck by them. perhaps it was their character and sex appeal, and that they seemed more like real people than actresses. The story is about a prostitution racket run by the mob and how each girl gets roped into her debased lifestyle. It was like being exposed to the seedy underbelly of the big city that wasn't meant to be seen or heard from by ordinary folks. From then on I was hooked on Nudie-Roughies - Lisa Petrucci

Yeah, let's get into FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL!! God! From that first explosive shot of you, I could tell that this film was going to be a rollercoaster ride. Varla was something I had never encountered before - I'd never seen a woman come out and pick a fight with a macho tough-guy and then grind his ass into the desert, for no other reason than that she just felt like it-! I was stunned. I show that video to friends, and at first they're laughing along, but at the point where you break Ray Barlow's back and there's that horrible sickening CRAAACK!, it's as if a pall settles over the room! Everyone is sitting there slack-jawed, because at that point they realize that all bets are off.

his devotion to Ivy, her boots, her pantyhose, and her pink jellybean

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'Ultra Twist' was supported by a studio shot promo that featured the Cramps, dressed entirely in PVC, leading a horde of twisters, with Ivy taking no prisoners in her 'Den of Persuasion', some full frontal nudity and titty shaking. Directed by long time Cramps fan and B Movie enthusiast Jimmy Maslan, the video took twelve hours to shoot. 'People kept coming up to us, going, "Are we gonna get a break? Are we gonna get LUNCH?" And we would go, "Just shut up and keep dancing. They knew they had been through something once they did that video. There was actually lots of sado-masochism going on there - Ivy would be screaming at 'em and they'd be like, "Oh, OK..." The next day, they had bloody feet!'

"help me to do the lord's work and eliminate pleasurable sex!"

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Cathy suggested we go sit in the generally verboten cab of the her dad's truck for laughs. We climbed up and got the doors open, settling into the big vinyl seats and having the kind of mental-midget fun that boondock-bred ding-a-lings have, she at the wheel, and me doing what I do best, which is snoop. Under the seat was this open box of paperback books with the dirtiest covers I'd ever seen. Cathy was delighted to find one that had some kind of animal husbandry theme to it but was quick to point out that her dad might show up and catch us, so we should grab the box and hightail it outta the truck, which we did, scrambling up the stairs to her room. I can't remember the titles of the books, but I do recall their covers alone offering entirely new vistas of possibility to us. We knew this stuff was the ultimate in sleaze and felt dirty to the point of screaming yeeeech! and running to wash our hands after finding one book with pages that were stuck together.-Miriam Linna

The Wicked and the Warped

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Hot, screaming teenage girls have always been in the top of the pops in adult paperbacks.But when Rock & Roll hit,the scribes went wild workin' the angle.JD novels are packed with rock & roll (the earlier books with jazz notions)as are drug novels.Nothing for nothing,adult books have some of the coolest rockin' stuff going.