The Five Fingers of Dr. X
(Triple X)
by Jon Sarre
Dig it, Bubbles, anyone or everyone of these five bands could play on a bill together (or drink a lotta beer or ingest controlled substances, whatever their wont) and practically level the place, see? Good times, right? Sure, three to five choice cuts o’ rock’n’roll tenderloin from The Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs, Tricky Woo, The Gaza Strippers, ADZ and The Black Halos (comprisin’ The Five Fingers of Dr. X, on his left hand anyhow, cuz that’s the one he’s holdin’ up, ya can’t see his other hand, so mebbe he’s got a hook for his right, kinda like the drummer for the Barbarians, or, hell, his whole right arm might be missin’ like the drummer for Def Leppard, y’also can’t tell if he has any legs!). Without further ado, or speculation on the guy’s physical condition, let’s examine the good Doc’s really important features – his digits:
Thumb – The Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs
Loved ’em on Live at KXLU, talked to a couple of ’em on the phone one time (Lollipop #48), saw ’em back up Wayne Kramer, tho’ that was a total disappointment: they jumped around like any other dime-a-dozen “hi-energy” no-talent combo and I wondered why I liked this band in the first place (and then Wayne showed up and it got ten times worse). Good news is the five tracks here fuckin’ rip, like I started thinkin’ those guys I saw were stand-ins or clones or sumptin’. Their name invokes MotorCity Summer of Hate Stooges’n’MC5, but they’re more like the Pagans, updated sure, think The Meatmen circa ’87 coverin’ aforementioned Cleveland punks-‘fore-there-were-too-many-of-’em’s “What’s This Shit Called Love?” sans Tesco’s ironic sleeze king schtick, mebbe substitute an angry guy kickin’ out against oblivion (or a record collector who knows that pose really fuckin’ well). Yeah, that’s a good thing, reeeeeal good and I hope they send their real bad motherfuckin’ selves next time they pass thru my berg.
Index Finger – Tricky Woo
Franco-Canucks fronted by an ex-Dee-troiter, supposedly stars up there in Hockeyland, but not so here, a pity, natch. Never seen ’em, but I’d love to take in their primo-Stoogebeat melded to grimy blues chords and the same garage 45s that schooled DMZ or the Chesterfield Kings dappled with psych-knowledge (either sussed chemically firsthand or approximated from someplace else). Tricky Woo is probably the most “individual” band on this comp, cuz even tho’ they crank it out like everyone else, they pace out their songs with drums’n’waa/noise breaks. This makes their four cuts, uh, longer than everyone else’s, plus there’s false stops’n’flow like Iggy/Asheton/Asheton/Alexander’s demented masterpiece Funhouse and, as I’ve pointed out in this mag before, they hail from Quebec someplace, le terre de ice’n’snails where they “don’t even speak fuckin’ English.” Pray to yer personal darklord that they make it thru customs next time they’re supposed to tour south of the border.
Middle Finger – The Gaza Strippers
Strippers mainman Rick Sims usedta be in The Didjits, so it only makes sense that his band’d be here (hey trivia buffs, he also did time in Supersuckers!). They play up here in Ore-gone pretty frequently, so I can safely say I’ve seen ’em about as many times as I’ve sat at the bar and listened to straw-graspin’ wanna be rockstars babble in my face about their newest “project” (no bother namin’ names, everyone does this shit). So anyway, on the strength of these three unreleasadaros here, next time, I’ll tell [name deleted] to shove it up his [deleted] and elbow my way up front to enjoy the outta-breath trashrock decadence that ya get when ya cross Supersuckers with Hanoi Rocks.
Ring Finger – ADZ
Contrary to Mr. Editor’s memory (or least the way I recall it), I didn’t write the ADZ asshole tear tearsheet that resulted in Lollipop’s lengthy suspension from Triple X’s promo lists and the inability of anyone connected with this rag to put a phone call thru to XXX prez Bruce Duff (I think I trashed a couple other Triple X releases, some OC hardcore thing, I forget, then again that probably didn’t help much either). Now that we’re all pals again (hell, Bruce even sends me stuff, direct – this f’example!), I gotta say the first ADZ track, “Breakout,” even with its early ’80s Cali punx classicism, is kinda lame, but the other four cuts bust up yer finger with the proverbial hammer. Ouch! Again and again, too! Four snotty, fast singalongable anthem-like things with millisecond breaks and thumpy Dukowskiesque bass intros and alla that. In a few words: hardcore ‘fore it turned into speed metal, or worse, that sludgy rap shit they do in NYC these days. Drop the topical title and “www.youdontrok” could’ve been on onea those old Flipside Vinyl Fanzine comps.
Pinky – The Black Halos
Saw these Western North Americans (BritColumbia, I think they call the place) open up for demi-legend Nikki Sudden (ask yer Dad, kids). Wasn’t blown away or nothin’, but wasn’t offended either. Not so for my friend Mick Altamont, “The biggest piece of shit ever shat,” he sputtered over and over again. Mebbe he found the Halos too purty, coulda been too much whisky, too. Hell, he might even change his addled mind if he heard this shit. Picture The Lazy Cowgirls with Cheap Tricks’ sense a pop-k(no)whow, nothin’ but fun. They even write decent songs, fuck, given half the chance, they could give Buckcherry a run for their ill-gotten lucre (or jump ’em in a parking lot). I wish they would, too. Any band here, in fact.
(www.triple-x.com)
