Two Sixx's makes what?

Back in 2008 as part of a blog post on The Dirt, I mentioned Matthew Trippe’s claims, as published in Kerrang!, that he was Nikki Sixx for a few years after Frank Ferrano (an undisputed Nikki Sixx) was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident. At the time there was precious little about this on the internet. This surprised me as conspiracy theories are usually the perfect platform for online discussion. If I hadn’t found anything about it I might have started to doubt the story ever existed. In fact maybe I was Nikki Sixx?

Today the story was recalled on Facebook – and a fresh search shows the internet is now littered with articles on the subject. Highlights include this page which shows one of the original articles (sadly not the one that had the photos designed to show the physical differences between the two Sixx’s) and should you have the time and/or inclination to watch it, this 3 hour and 15 minute video interview with Trippe. 

Smashed Gladys - Social Intercourse

Based in New York (but originating in Toronto) and so immediately differentiating themselves from the slew of west coast 'glam' bands, Smashed Gladys released a low-key debut before grabbing the major deal that resulted in Social Intercourse.

Their other key difference (or should that be 'USP'?) was female vocalist Sally Cato - whose take on being a frontwoman in an otherwise all-male band in a largely male industry was to simply be one of the boys.

Her gravelly vocals gave Smashed Gladys an edge, and lyrically you'd be forgiven that this was a band driven solely on testosterone (bookending the album you have the not-difficult-to-decipher opener 'Lick It into Shape', while closer 'Sermonette' talks of being in a band 'to get laid').

Musically Smashed Gladys had a certain amount of bar-room cool, and this easily qualifies as one of the better US releases of the late 80s. On last listen - admittedly a couple of years ago - it hadn't stood the test of time too well (the production in particular ties it to the period), but if you haven't heard this band check out the tunes over on MySpace.



http://www.myspace.com/smashedgladys1984

LA Guns - London Marquee 21/12/91

This gig took place only a few months after Motley Crue played the same venue (billed as 'The Four Skins' which led to fans of the Oi! band of the same name to threaten to show up and literally flex their collective muscles).

Tickets for the Crue show sold out immediately - but they were in a different league to LA Guns, a fact that two poor girls perhaps didn't understand for when I wandered up to the box office about 15 minutes before it opened I found myself sixth in the queue - the two girls at the front had camped overnight expecting demand to be rather higher ....

Looking back this was definitely one of the best gigs I went to in that era - as a homecoming for Phil Lewis (both Girl and particularly Torme were Marquee regulars) it was always going to be a little bit special.

I saw them once more in 2001 (as referenced here), this time at the Camden Underworld. We drunkenly found ourselves down the front, high-fiving with the band and generally acting like teenagers. As cynical as I am about the albums that followed their excellent debut album I always seem strangely drawn to this band.

Past blogs:
LA Guns - self-titled
Faster Pussycat - self-titled

The Joneses

If only a fraction of what I've read about the Joneses is an accurate reflection of the band then I should love them:

'A hot-blooded mix of the New York Dolls, Johnny Thunders, and Eddie Cochran, too glam for punk and too punk for rock. If the term “trashy rock ‘n’ roll” could only apply to one band, The Joneses would take the label in spades' (Full Breach records)

'One of the last of the great "loud and snotty" REAL trashy glam rock'n'roll bands who WERE 100% authentic were Hollywood's Joneses. The Joneses really did have that raunchy, fifties rhythm and blues stilletto appeal that always informed the REAL Johnny Thunders. Whiney, brattish, sneering vocals, yearning high-lonesome for another fix, scuzzy dueling guitars shades of the greats, horny piano pounding worthy of Jerry Lee or Little Richard, catchy choruses that you could never be certain about-was he singin' about dope or chicks? Either/both/probably dope, mostly.' (Sleazegrinder)

I've recently read on Glitzinet that a new collection is being issued - Criminal History- but having listened to a few online samples I've not been grabbed. This may be down to the fact that I've only tried listening to them at work and haven't been able to crank it up - but as a fan of the New York Dolls, Soho Roses, Gunfire Dance, Stiv etc (i.e. not Warrant, Winger or Slaughter) should I persevere? Answers on a postcard please (or just via the comments box if you prefer ...).

Jane's Addiction - Nothings Shocking

First off, big thanks to the Swindon Music forum spin-off thread (5 weeks, 2,145 views and 172 posts down the line and still going strong) for reuniting me with this album. 99p well spent ....

I did have the LP (with rubber sleeve) from its first release, when someone told me that they were a mix of Guns 'n Roses and the Rolling Stones. I'm thinking they'd either never heard Nothing's Shocking, or had read a very strange review.

One thing you have to say for Perry Farrell - he has the decency to be a rock star. At Reading a few years ago we toiled through the likes of the Dandy Warhols and the White Stripes, bands I do like but they just looked like blokes (with a couple of girls thrown in). However, the second Jane's Addiction came on it was clear that you were dealing with something else altogether. The get-up (a flamboyant white suit, with matching feather-topped hat), the presence and, of course, that voice.


I'm pondering giving Porno For Pyros another chance. Comments and recommendations welcome.

Faster Pussycat - self-titled

At some point in the late 90s an argument developed between myself and a friend on the crucial subject of: Who was better, Faster Pussycat or LA Guns? Unable to use the Harry Hill method (I appreciate this will be lost on anyone outside the UK), we were given the opportunity to settle matters once and for all when they announced a joint tour in September 2001.

History has noted what took place that month, and Faster Pussycat actually pulled out of the tour as a result. We were amused to discover on arrival at the Camden Underworld that we were entitled to a partial refund - £2 against a £13 ticket. Personally I took this to mean even the promoters felt Pussycat were the weaker band and the argument won ...

It's not that I don't rate them - Faster Pussycat is a fantastic record. Side one is virtually dud-free and even though standards drop on the second-half of the album it's all good rock & roll.

See also:
LA Guns - self-titled

Motorcycle Boy - Popsicle

A former housemate of mine once told me about a band he saw when on a pilgrimage to LA. They came on (at, I think, the Whiskey-a-Go-Go), played one song (‘I Hate The Sunset Strip’), trashed their gear and walked off again.

That band was Motorcycle Boy.

Eschewing the usual LA clichés, Motorcycle Boy looked towards Iggy Pop and classic garage rock for inspiration, and when they finally committed themselves to vinyl they had Sylvain Sylvain on production duties (and their not-too distorted guitar sound owed a certain debt to that favoured by the New York Dolls).

Sylvain is in fact the first voice you hear on Popsicle (he contributes some French mutterings over the album’s intro) before the opener proper (‘I Get Around’, the first of several gloriously misogynistic tracks to grace Popsicle) makes its appearance. Even though side one (to those of us who still stuck in the realms of vinyl terminology) is chock-full of corkers ('Supersonic' and 'Cool You and Me' in particular) the band don't shoot their bolt before the second half of the album with 'She Says' and closer 'What I Want' battling it out for the right to be considered the album's highlight.

Popsicle is another example of an album that missed the glam boat, and in some ways this has maybe served the band well as it's an album that is fondly recalled by many rather than one that was swallowed up and forgotten about.

See also:
Nina Antonia - The New York Dolls: Too Much Too Soon
Johnny Thunders - So Alone
The New York Dolls - One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This

Guns 'N Roses - Appetite For Destruction

To be fair this should have been the opening blog. After all, without this album I might never have heard (or at least paid any attention to) many of the bands I've written/will write about, and I'm sure I'm not alone there.

In 1987, aged 16, my favourite band was Metallica. Donington 1987 (Metallica and Anthrax on the same bill) was one very happy day. By this time of course Poison had released Look What The Cat Dragged In but they were never going to be the band to change the face of rock music.

Notably Appetite For Destruction was released on the same day as Faster Pussycat's debut album, and the two bands arrived in the UK on a joint-headline tour. I turned down a ticket - after all, what did these bands have over James, Kirk, Lars and Jason (Cliff RIP)? Having heard 'It's So Easy' and 'Mr Brownstone' I wasn't exactly bowled over. The first seeds of regret were sown when I heard 'Night Train' on the Friday Rock Show - and for a moment there was a possibility that the spare ticket was still up for grabs. It was not to be.

The rest is of course history. Slowly, the world (myself included) woke up to what was arguably the rock album of the 1980s. I bleached my hair for the first time; bought some crimpers; gave make-up a go (quickly concluding that eye-liner and mascara would do; lipstick and rouge was just daft) and plans for a band of my own took a significant change of direction.

I finally did get to see them at the ill-feted Donington Monsters of Rock show in 1988. Between the annoucement of the bill (with G'n'R fifth on the bill, second on between Helloween and Megadeth) and the show itself Axl and Co were the most talked about band in the world and could easily have headlined. Even though we were a fair way from the stage the sheer force of the crowd meant we were dragged twenty yards one way and then twenty yards back again in a matter of seconds - wash, rinse, repeat. We got out as quickly as we could but some weren't so fortunate.

See also:
Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds

Motley Crue - The Dirt

A sure sign of a good rock & roll (auto)biography is the number of times you find yourself thinking 'Why aren't you dead?'. True, Nikki Sixx technically did die once of an overdose (hence 'Kickstart My Heart'), and the Crue's lifestyle wasn't without its victims (RIP Razzle).

The Dirt takes the intriguing approach of having each member contribute chapters. Even John Corabi (briefly the singer in the early 90s) gets to put his side across, and you can't help feel that he was a nice bloke who wound up in the wrong band at the wrong time.

Which can't be said for the man whose stack heels he filled. Having initially tried to evade Tommy Lee's attempts to get him in the band, Vince Neil claims that he only eventually joined because they caught him when he was down. Throughout the book he comes across as the least likable member, and even though one major mistake in the earlier editions was probably never written by him and should have been caught at a proofing stage (in reference to Razzle, Neil says how much he missed him, including his 'Finnish accent'. New editions correctly state 'English accent') it's hard not to blame him. The sad story of what happened to his daughter, however, should not be wished on anyone.

Other highlights include contrasts in the contributions. Mick Mars writes that he used to down pints of vodkas on stage but the rest of the band thought it was water; in the following chapter Neil writes that Mick Mars pretended to drink water on stage but they all knew it was vodka.

And then there's the UK tour that never was. I clearly remember the story breaking in Kerrang! that they cancelled the tour - due in the winter months - citing that snow on the roof would weaken the buildings and the venues wouldn't be able to hold their lighting rigs, drum cages etc. It turns out that this came from a phone call made by Mick Mars in response to an extreme crisis in the band - the 'death' of Nikki Sixx.

One name that doesn't come up is that of Matthew Trippe. Circa 1988 he made claims (published by Kerrang!) that he, for a while, was Nikki Sixx. The story went that the original Sixx (Frank Ferrano) was injured in a crash after Too Fast For Love and a lookalike (Trippe) was drafted in. Trippe claimed to have written most of Shout At The Devil and Girls, Girls, Girls. He was then arrested for his part in a robbery and a now fit again Ferrano rejoined. He brought a lawsuit that he eventually dropped in 1993. The original article is most likely on the Internet somewhere - however I did find this:

http://members.ozemail.com.au/~cruekiss/sixxpakk.htm

The Dirt is a fantastic read, and has gone a long way towards promoting Motley Crue to the upper echelons of rock history, a place their musical output doesn't quite justify. As tales of excess go, they don't get much better than this.

Vain - No Respect

An old schoolfriend loved all-things American (he was a bit like Peter Serafinowicz's character in I'm Alan Partridge) and in particular American rock music. KISS were his first love and he would buy pretty much any album as long as the band had long hair, leather trousers and make-up - and came from the opposite side of the Atlantic. On the odd occasion that I'd rave about an American band, he would dismiss them: LA Guns and Smashed Gladys were two such examples. Likewise he didn't rate Vain's No Respect.*

To be fair, it's a far from perfect album. I never much rated the ploddier songs but Secrets, Beat The Bullet, Who's Watching You (as good an opening trio of songs you could wish for), Aces, No Respect and Down For The Third Time represent a more impressive canon of work on their own than, say, Warrant, Roxx Gang, Lilian Axe and Winger managed between them.

I was fortunate to see Vain when they toured this album (but less fortunate to have to buy a ticket to see Skid Row, the band they were supporting - and Vain's superior performance made me appreciate Seb & co even less).

Arguably Vain's problem was that they were just that little bit too late. Maybe they were also too 'dark' for some (a side-effect of not being from LA perhaps). But No Respect stands the test of time, and almost 20 years on that's no mean feat.




* Actually apparently he did! But as for LA Guns 'they really were arse', so I was right about that. (29/10/08)

Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds - self-titled

Izzy Stradlin And The Ju Ju Hounds

When wearing a black velvet cap I was often told I looked like Izzy Stradlin. Most bizzarely someone once congratulated me on a great show when I was in the toilet of the old Mean Fiddler in Harlesden, immediately after Izzy and his band had left the stage. Quite why this bloke thought Izzy would have raced off stage, changed his clothes and made a beeline for one of the customer toilets I'll never know.

We managed to end that night by blagging our way into the birthday party of Vikki from Fuzzbox. Charlie Quintana (the drummer in the Ju Ju Hounds) put in an appearance and when during a conversation a friend asked him for a cigarette, Charlie apologised profusely for not offering him one in the first place - not bad for a long-standing member of Bob Dylan's band.

Also in attendance was Rob Newman, then at the height of his fame and also around the time that his relationship with David Baddiel was in decline (this was late 1992) and we spent a long time talking. He left, and a few minutes later so did we. Rob was outside and called to me, correctly remembering my name and wishing me well ... my reply? "Cheers David .... um, I mean Rob."

Not my finest moment.

See also:
Guns 'N Roses - Appetite For Destruction

L.A. Guns - self-titled

It might seem that I have no interest in the US glam scene - this is not strictly true. Appetite For Destruction pretty much got the ball rolling for me. It's just that much of what came out of the States after that album was, well, a waste of space (I mean come on, Warrant? Johnny Crash?).

Okay so L.A. Guns had Brit Phil Lewis on vocals. Maybe that's why I gave them a chance in the first place, and it was on a pilgrimage to Shades that I picked up LA Guns on import. The obligatory schmaltzy ballad aside (which at least they hid on side two, rather than making it side one, track three like everyone else), the album has what so many bands falsely claim to have: attitude and a sense of urgency. I remember reading an interview with Paul Blittz from Soho Roses in which he said that he hates going to see bands that describe themselves as punk but turn out to be bad metal - I like to think that LA Guns (well, on this album anyway) are not the sort of band he was talking about.