You're Not a Real Rock Critic, and Your Favorite Band Sucks

Since this column appears on the web, I get email from readers all over the world. Most of it is what you might call Fan Mail from cool people -- which is genuinely flattering and makes me glow a bit. But once in a while, someone gets their panties in a bunch over some perceived-as-harmful thing I said about Marilyn Manson or whoever, and that person then feels compelled to Rip Me a New A-Hole, as the saying goes. And you know what I say to that? Bring it on!

The few anti-fan emails I receive come almost exclusively from vexed Motley Crue fans. This is a bit puzzling to me, as I make no secret of the fact that I am way down with The Crue. I practice signing my name as "Mrs. Nikki Sixx" in my notebook whenever I have the time, and just the other night I watched Motley Crue: Behind the Music twice in a four hour time span. Still, certain whining little crybabies with no sense of humor have nothing better to do than complain about a column I wrote late last year entitled "Feelin' Alright with the Crue," which chronicles in jubilant detail the adventures David Lee Beowulf and I had while attending our first Motley Crue concert. Anyone who read that column knows that, while I did take a few derogatory jabs an the lower-most bottom-feeding lot of the Motley Crue fan pool, the review was overwhelmingly positive. I admit I called Tommy Lee on his potty-mouth once or twice, but considering the guy can't even complete a sentence that doesn't contain the word "Fuck" at least ten times, I think I'm justified in suggesting he might want to tone it down, unless he wants his kids' first words to be "Daddy, where's my fucking Tickle Me Elmo?" By the article's conclusion, I had lauded Motley Crue's performance as the best live show I had seen that year. Pretty high praise, I'd say. But some people have no sense of gratitude.

Last week I signed on to AOL to find an email from just such a Motley Crue fan, threateningly entitled "Back off," in my mail box. Presented here in its completely unaltered, unedited, idiocy-intact version, for your amusement, is that email, received from some butthead (not his real email address) using America Online.

"hello. and piss off. yes you heard me. if tommys mouth offends you so much then to bad you silly cunt. go back home and play all those b 52s records along with those other faggot dance new wave bullshit you love so much you stupid cunt. and realize that in rock n roll we will say anything we dam will please so back off and leave tommy alone you four eyed freak"

While obviously an illiterate moron, Butthead is not as retarded as some Motley Crue fans. Notice he/she did not once use the letters "U" or "R" for the words "You" or "Are," respectively. However, the total absence of punctuation -- which, let's face it, could have driven his/her point straight home in a much more effective, laser-like manner -- is a sign of severe brain damage. Imagine how powerfully devastating such a vituperative tirade would be with a half-dozen, well-placed commas and a few exclamation points thrown in for emphasis!!!

Now let's attack those nasty typos! Effective swearing is crucial when you launch such an impassioned verbal assault. The misspelling of an elementary curse-word such as "Damn" -- spelled above as "dam," thus signifying a barrier constructed across a waterway to control the flow or raise the level of water -- is just not acceptable. Coupled here with the erroneous use of the word "Will" instead of "Well," adds insult to injury. I suggest Butthead invest in a copy of Webster's New World Dictionary, available at any local bookstore.

I also take exception to the phrase: "Faggot dance new wave bullshit." May I see a show of hands from everyone who can name one faggot new wave dance bullshit band I've EVER written about? Does Gary Numan fall into this category? Have I ever once even mentioned the B52's in an article? "Faggot hair metal," maybe. And "Faggot dance industrial bullshit"? Guilty as charged. But "Faggot dance new wave bullshit"? I think Butthead is wide of the mark on that one.

As for the personal insults, Butthead is a mere amateur. If you're going to get down and dirty, you might as well wallow in the mud. Calling me a "Cunt" almost feels like a kiss. If a god-loving, Reiki practicing, former Girl Scout of a total soft-hearted pussycat like me can inspire someone to actually call me a "Cunt," all I can say is, wow -- I must be doing something right! And I don't mind being called a "Freak," (I fly my Freak Flag proudly!) but "four eyed freak"? Ouch, baby! That smarts. Name calling with regard to someone's physical shortcomings just isn't cool. It's hitting below the belt. Technical foul!! If you're going to stoop so low as to cut me down based on my physical appearance, "Bleached Blonde Freak" or "Nike Sneaker-wearing Freak" would have been more appropriate.

The first thing I did with "Back Off" -- after laughing hysterically and saving it to my hard drive -- was forward it to America Online's command central for all smut-related email. Within an hour, AOL had emailed me back to acknowledge they had "taken appropriate action against" the person who sent this offending email. A few days later, I sent a Test email to Butthead. The message was promptly returned to me as "User Unknown." This is what happens when you try to fuck with the goddess.

CD Review of the Month: Gail Goes to Hell

Various Artists, Hell City Hell (Ignition)

According to the award-winning Broadway drama, Angels in America, "Heaven is a city not unlike San Francisco." If you follow that line of metaphoric reasoning, then Hell is a hipster paradise not unlike Las Vegas. Sure, Hell is rumored to be the locus of eternal damnation and torture, but Faustian legend -- along with the work of humorous social satirists like Matt Groening and Gary Larson -- have taken great strides toward making the fiery pits of Hell seem akin to an adult Disneyland. Hell City, Hell -- a true multimedia experience accompanied by its very own comic book -- answers the burning question "If Rock and Roll is the Devil's music, what's on Hell's Play list?"

On Hell City, Hell, fifteen scorching tracks fork over a superior thematic collection of garage punk romps and psychobilly stomps celebrating the fictional locale of "Hell City, Hell" as The New Den of Decadence! You can almost smell the brimstone among stand-out cuts like Puff Daddy and the Family's tribute to glorious greed ("It's all about the Benjamins"), The Havelinas' hypnotic confessional ("The Darker Side"), Molten Leather's checklist for sinners-in-training ("You Know You're Evil"), BTK's dark funk groove of pure sonic malevolence ("Boilermaker") and Red Five's rave-up spin on Glenn Danzig's "13." Finally, the Hell City, Hell Philharmonic bring it on home with a rip-roaring version of "Viva, Las Vegas."

If you need an excuse to spend more time on the internet, set your web browser to hellcityhell.com, where you'll be entertained with eye-grabbing visuals, sound clips and interactive activities. Hell City, Hell also lays down a kick ass soundtrack for all your summer barbecues. Just slap a bumper sticker on my hot rod that says "I'd Rather Be Worshipping Satan!" See you in Hell.

Rock Star Quote of the Month

" If someone pees in your pool of dreams, add chlorine and keep swimming."

Don "The Dish" Bish, drummer for the Newlydeads and quite possibly the best-looking man in rock and roll!

Gail's CD Give Away Contest

Avid readers may have noticed that, each month, I end the column with a simple song lyric that serves to define my mood at the moment I finish the column. Being the benevolent goddess I am, I thought it'd be fun to have a contest to see who can guess the name of the song the lyrics are taken from, along with the band or artist who recorded that song. As a reward for spewing useless knowledge of musical trivia, the winner will receive a choice of CDs from a collection I keep near my front door for throwing at fighting neighbors, barking dogs and annoying car alarms that rob me of my much-treasured beauty sleep. You are ineligible to win the Song Lyrics of the Month contest if you wrote the song or are in the band that recorded the song. Other disqualifying factors will be discerned at my whim. The song lyrics of the month will always follow the words "The Worley Gig." It's easy, it's fun, it will win you a free CD! Email me at pandomag@rocketmail.com if you can identify the song lyrics below.

The Worley Gig: I know beauty and I know a good thing when I see it

Prize goes to the FIRST correct answer received! Good Luck!

Coming in future editions of The Worley Gig

It's a nice day for a Red Wedding:
Gail the Goddess and Nikki the Freak go to New Orleans, drink too much, eat lots of Beignets, stalk Trent Reznor, and attend a Red Wedding.

Interview with The Drummer:
Meet Don "The Dish" Bish: Sound engineer, Percussionist extraordinaire, Sex symbol, and all around Nice Guy.

*****

To Join Gail's Mailing List, just send her an Email

The Worley Gig Archives

Also by Gail Worley:

A Ministry of Sound
Gail Worley talks to Paul Barker of Ministry about the making of Dark Side of The Spoon, what it's like to work with Jello Biafra, and the threat of MP3

Sponge: You're Soaking In It!
Three years ago Sponge had radio hits, national tours, and the de riguer support gig for Kiss. Then suddenly, nothing. Find out the shocking truth as Sponge frontman, Vinnie Dombrowski, discusses their new album, channeling the spirit of an assassinated Russian princess and why Buckcherry will save Rock'n Roll, by Gail Worley

PJ Olsson - A singer/songwriter and a major hottie!

Through Enemy Lines - Gail interviews first wave Britpunk survivors, Janus Stark

You Am I: It's the Cream, It's the Crock - Fabu Aussie Tim Rogers talks about The Convicts that are coming, sugary pop, garagey stomp, and Hourly, Daily life in the paid slumber party with 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.

Vintage Jello Biafra - Gail's 1997 interview with the former Dead Kennedy