The Worley Gig:
Music and Mayhem in New York City
by
Gail Worley


It's the End of the Year as We Know it and I Feel Fine
December 1998

As I sit writing this, Beck's' recent stunner, Mutations, spins round and round in the disc player. I've read a few reviews of Mutations that call it "Controversial." Give me a fucking break. Mutations is Beck focusing on song-based pop music in the same vein as solo efforts by George Harrison and John Lennon. It's a brilliant record, but if this is controversial then -- if I may paraphrase Kurt Vonnegut -- my ass chews gum. Writing about music didn't used to be so complicated. This year especially, I've noticed just the simple act of writing a 200 word CD review feels increasingly like homework, like something I have to study for. Like my opinion isn't valid unless it's shared by a credentialed group of my peers. I guess the problem stems from the escalating fragmentation of rock music, which has made it impossible to know what's going on and almost as impossible to care. If I didn't love music with such a fervent passion, I'd throw in the towel right now.

You Can't Polish A...

I don't have to finish that sentence, you know how it goes. There are distinctive kinds and varying degrees of crap floating around out there in the guise of music, circling the drain, refusing to be sucked down. There's crap that just plain blows chunks and deserves to be ignored completely, based on a total lack of value. Then there's the really heinous crap, which must be reviled in the press because someone was trying to get away with something, and that just cannot be allowed to slide. Robert Van Winkle (A.K.A.
Vanilla Ice) made his second attempt at a come back this year with a hardcore-rap hybrid called Hard To Swallow. This album sucked even worse than the first Korn album, if that is possible. End of story. Is Vanilla Ice worth hating? Hardly. He doesn't pretend to have anything to say, he's just trying to make a living. I can respect that. Van Winkle is a good looking guy who should become a Calvin Klein model and rake in the bucks while he still has a pretty face, because he has no musical talent whatsoever. His music is awful, but I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.

Vanilla Ice is just an obvious example. There are still other popular musical phenomena that remain unfathomable to me. Is there an original riff or lyric anywhere on Garbage's
Version 2.0? How does Elliott Smith - who looks like he has never, ever, owned a comb -- become an overnight sensation? Is there an existent form of medieval torture more difficult to endure than sitting all the way through the new Alec Empire CD? Is it possible to name a more retarded song released in 1998 than Harvey Danger's "Flagpole Sitta"? That's what I thought.

I'm not one to trash a band based on hype alone or because their music is associated with a movement or genre I don't care for. I'm not much into electronica or techno music, but that new Fatboy Slim record is pretty rad. Generally, I make an effort to understand why people who possess musical tastes different than my own like what they do. There are, however, a few trespassers who need to be called on the carpet right now.

I closed the book on my appreciation of Marilyn Manson's music after 1995's Smells Like Children, but I continue to
follow his career and write about him, as I find Manson to be a shining example of the Emperor's New Clothes phenomena. Manson is the biggest no talent, bullshit artist on the planet. His whole act is a parody of an imitation of a facade. Manson's newest piece of crap, Mechanical Animals, is a Diamond Dogs-era David Bowie rip-off with not a hint of originality or artistic inspiration in the offing. While playing Mechanical Animals on my stereo for the first time, I noticed the appearance of a bad odor in my apartment. At first I thought I needed to take the garbage out, but then I realized it was this CD: it stinks.

And sometimes the Prozac just isn't working. Stabbing Westward's Darkest Days, their third (and probably last) major label release, is a mire of singer/songwriter, Christopher Hall's depression and self-doubt. Hall really needs to get a grip, get over his ex-girlfriend and move on with his life. Two records crammed with bleatings about how much she fucked up his head is more than enough: three is just pathetic. What strikes me as funny is how offended Hall used to get at the suggestion his music was derivative of Nine Inch Nails. Look where Stabbing Westward's popularity is now, and look at Nine Inch Nails' total loss of grip on the industrial vanguard. Ha ha.

Tied for the position of this year's top Misery Magnets are Alanis Morrisette and Courtney Love; two artists who, like a yeast infection, are annoying as Hell and hard to get rid of. Morrisette's wretched debut, Jagged Little Pill, sold gazillions of copies. This is almost inconceivable to me, not only because the record was hideous and unlistenable, but because every song was played out on the radio and MTV until there was no reason to buy the record, ever. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I recall Morrisette's first hit, "You Oughtta Know," a contentious wail of a woman scorned that would have anyone rooting for the boyfriend who dumped her. Three years after this premier assault on my artistic sensibilities, Morrisette got a make-over and released her follow up, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. The title alone reads like some kind of pretentious tongue twister. "Thank You," the first single, presents a litany of Morrisette's emotional dysfunctions. Adding insult to injury, the video portrays a nude Morrisette strolling through downtown Manhattan with her naughty bits air-brushed out. Huh?

Courtney Love takes the term "star fucker" to a whole new level of absurdity. Live Through This may have been one of 1994's best albums, but let's not even pretend not to know that all the songs were written by Love's then-husband, Kurt Cobain. Why else would it take anyone who is supposedly so "Cutting edge" and authentically damaged four years to make a record? Hole's 1998 follow-up, Celebrity Skin, reveals once and for all that Love has nothing to say and one of rock music's most grating voices. The woman couldn't sing on key if you dangled a Barbara Walters special in her face. This is not to say that, like Vanilla Ice, Love is not possessed of marketable skills. In The People Versus Larry Flint, she demonstrated a natural talent for acting when cast in the role of a heroin addict porn freak or similar gold-digging trash. We all feel Kurt Cobain's loss and I'm really very sorry Love has to raise their child alone and find someone else to ghost write her music for her. But sympathy is not reason enough to bankroll the career of a glorified groupie poser.

It's bad enough to be forced to witness the squalid drama of these artists' lives played out in public forums. It's downright loathsome to be asked to pay for it.

With that out of the way, let's move on to more pleasant things.

Top Twelve Albums of 1998, According to Me

I don't like to think of myself as a rock critic but, rather, as a fan of music who writes about her particular tastes. As the late Rick Nelson sang, "You can't please everyone, so you've got to please yourself." I don't claim to have heard everything that's out there and, since certain labels don't send me records, those rosters lack a presence on my list. Notice the glaring absence of Liz Phair, John Spencer Blues Explosion and Belle & Sebastian, and understand this doesn't negate their great value or appeal. It just means I didn't get the record, so I wrote about something I did get and liked.

For what it's worth, here are a dozen of the records I liked in 1998.

1. VAST,
Visual Audio Sensory Theatre
Probably the only commercially viable gothic/industrial record released in 1998 (think Nine Inch Nails meets Enigma), even if it wasn't commercially successful. Conceived and executed by 21 year old John Crosby, VAST is the record Trent Reznor should have made three years ago. If Elektra would just take their focus off Metallica for two seconds and give VAST a little kick in the right direction, this act could bankroll their entire staff into the new millennium. Visual Audio Sensory Theatre is The Downward Spiral of 1998.

2. Gomez, Bring It On
Brit Pop Meets Crosby, Stills & Nash. Call it this year's OK Computer.

3. Libido,
Killing Some Dead Time
Bluntly put, Libido are Norway's answer to Oasis.

4.
Jack Drag, Dope Box
Just between you and me and the wall, I love Jack Drag to death. The ballad, "Tall Buildings" has the potential to be a number-one hit that could propel this psychedelic pop trio from Boston to international superstardom. Jack Drag are the best neo-hippy band since the HooDoo Guru's. Turn on, tune in, trip out.

5. Mercury Rev, Deserter's Songs
This freaky pop record sounds like the characters from Alice In Wonderland got together and recorded the soundtrack for a trip through the looking glass. Jaw-dropping gorgeousness from start to finish.

6. Posies,
Success
The greatest tragedy of the year: The Posies break up and yet Hootie & The Blowfish live on. This record is amazing beyond words. Just go buy it right now. While you've got your wallet out, buy the rest of their catalog, too. You'll thank me in the morning.

7.
Bernard Butler, People Move On
A big breath of fresh air in the midst of heaping piles of self-indulgent rubbish, the debut from this ex-London Suede guitarist supports his musical virtuosity in the framework of memorable songs about love and self-discovery. Bernard Butler is the new Neil Young, but with better personal hygiene habits.

8.
Velvet Goldmine Soundtrack
The best rock musical since Tommy has a soundtrack that blows my mind every time I play it. Jonathan Rhys Meyers spot-on interpretation of "Baby's On Fire" had Brain Eno himself freaking out. Any disc that features Placebo covering T-Rex alongside original classics by Gary Glitter and Roxy Music deserves a place in your collection. Don't forget to see the movie, twice.

9. Sloan, Navy Blues
Why Sloan aren't on the cover of every teen magazine is a mystery to me. These boys are cute as hell and talented to boot. If this was 1965, Sloan would be giving the Beatles a run for the money. Navy Blues could still be a huge, runaway hit. Tell me it's not too late.

10. Angelique, Present
Angelique might be goth's answer to Cheryl Crow if Present were a genre work. Rather, her startling debut is a well-toned body of dreamy rock incorporating elements of industrial dance, electronica and hip hop. This year's most original and ground-breaking effort by a female solo artist.

11. Monster Magnet,
Powertrip
If I were to compile a list of the sexiest men in rock, Dave Wyndorf would surely snag a top spot on that list for his sheer ballsiness alone. On the title cut, Wyndorf declares "I'm never gonna work another day in my life," and there's no reason why he should. Wyndorf should just be paid to be the fucking rock and roll genius that he is. The Worley Gig votes Powertrip the best hard rock/metal album of the year.

12. 12 Rounds, My Big Hero
Trent Reznor's only meaningful contribution to music in 1998 was signing this British experimental gothic lounge act to his Nothing Records label. 12 Rounds make music that is dark, disturbing, beautiful and difficult if not impossible to shake off. My vote for 1998's most original debut.

That wraps up another rewarding year of writing
The Worley Gig and I want to thank everyone reading this for your support and encouragement. Best wishes for a great holiday, a bright 1999, and remember, "If you're not the lead dog, the view never changes."

The Worley Gig regularly turns in both Pandemonium Online and The NY Hangover.

To join The Worley Gig Mailing List, just send Gail an Email

Other Features From Gail Worley:

Goo Goo Dolls: Prepare to Get Dizzy - Gail talks to Robby Takac about City of Angels, hits in the five formats, crap music and what chicks dig.

Nivek Ogre's New Rx - No longer a Skinny Puppy, this famed industrialist dispenses Ritalin now.

Visual Audio Sensory Theatre - Gail discusses religion and revenge fantasies with Jon Crosby, the aspiring Gothman with a VAST array of sounds...

Dream Punk or Noise Pop? - Gail goes to South Park and Melrose Place with Carrie Clark, art therapist and feedback diva from 16 Deluxe

God Lives Underwater - "With a name like God Lives Underwater, it has to be good," says Gail

Vintage Jello Biafra - Gail's 1996 interview with the former Dead Kennedy

Previous turns of The Worley Gig:

The Worley Gig #1-- Summer, The Rules

The Worley Gig #2-- All Tomorrow's Parties

The Worley Gig #3-- Weaselfest '97

The Worley Gig #4-- How I Spent Summer

The Worley Gig #5-- Random Excerpts From My Ass-Kicking Life

The Worley Gig #6-- Christmas Kicks Total Ass

The Worley Gig #7-- She's About A Mover

The Worley Gig #8-- The Goddess and Pig Watts

The Worley Gig #9-- Outrageously Boss Records and What Not to Do On a Date

The Worley Gig #10-- Marilyn Manson: The Satanist in Winter

The Worley Gig #11-- A Mosquito, My Libido

The Worley Gig #12-- Sex By SexWest 1998

The Worley Gig #13-- I'm Only Numan

The Worley Gig #14-- Marilyn Manson, Bauhaus Reissues

The Worley Gig #15-- The Column of the Daves

The Worley Gig #16-- A Girl's Gotta Make a Living

The Worley Gig #17-- Intel Me Everything

The Worley Gig #18-- Crushed Velvet

The Worley Gig #19-- Bauhaus Live, Gail Out West

The Worley Gig #20-- Two Motley Crue Cherries Broken


Back To Your Regularly Scheduled Pandomag.com