Yes, you can RAWK for mere pennies!!!
Here’s How!!!
CDs are an absolute scam—they cost next to nothing to manufacture and yet the hapless consumer still drops hard (or maybe not) earned ca$h on ‘em. Not necessary my friends! Even if you live in Buttfuck, Idaho chances are there is a friendly thrift store or pawn shop nearby—use it!!! Ah, there is nothing quite like the unrepentant, emotionally bankrupt thrill of diggin’ up them old relics sparklin’ in the dusty “we have no home” racks. They’re like lovable lil’ orphans pleading: “Please buy us, the Bruce Springsteen album just snickered at us on his way out the door.”
Remember when you got trendy and sold some of your righteous Van Halen CDs for the latest lo-fi sensation’s new release? Perhaps you’d accumulated many unpaid fines for assault, or maybe you’d kicked in the window of your ex-girlfriend’s house in a drunken rage and the bitch actually took you to court—further crippling your collection? Nostalgia? Not for me. Simply, I want my old fucking albums back!
This is kind of a consumer guide for those of you who aren’t experienced in the art of stretching your r ‘n’ r dollar. You should be able to acquire all of the below titles for around twenty-five bucks.
SHOOTING GALLERY-S/T (Mercury/PolyGram)
With the demise of Hanoi Rocks, guitarist Andy McCoy founded first the abysmal Cherry Bombz, and later, this scuzzy bunch ‘o badasses for this, their one and only album. Although not on par with the best Hanoi releases, this is worth every cent of the four dollars I paid for it. Sleazy L.A. skidball anthems like “Teenage Breakdown” and “Striptease” provide enough hip-swivelling and ass-shakery to cement this disc as one of the quintessential Delete Delights. The remake of Hanoi staple “Don’t Ever Leave Me” is rather weak, but overall, this is a glam punk classic—quite undeserving of its status as a footnote in Andy McCoy’s frustrating career. I mean c’mon, look at the cover—you know you fucking want it.
THE ALMIGHTY-Powertrippin’ (PolyGram)
Often written off as posers, what with Ricky Warwick’s past association with Clash-wannabe bores New Model Army, this album is a bargain bin staple. Released in ’93, year of the gas station attendant as rock star, these righteously rocking motherfuckers are criminally overlooked. Like an unholy union of black leather-era Cult with the mega crunch of latter day Corrosion of Conformity, this album kicks more ass than Bruce Lee in “The Chinese Connection”.
JUNKYARD-S/T (Geffen)
Sleazier than Guns ‘N’ Roses with a dash of Southern Hostility, Junkyard were, to me, the ultimate trash rockers of the Sunset Strip. Boasting luminaries from Minor Threat and Poison 13 (Brian Baker and Chris Gates respectively), these dudes pumped out two great albums chock fulla fist-pumpin’ anthems for teenage drug casualties everywhere. How they managed to fuck up to the extent that they are on this list is beyond me. [note: in Brian Baker’s recent bio, Junkyard is left out for some reason. He’s embarrassed to have been in Junkyard? For fuck’s sake! He’s not embarrassed to be in his current band Bad Religion?]
Gallon Drunk-Tonite… The Singles Bar (Ryko)
Why this swampy, trashabilly combo is even mentioned in this column is a complete mystery to me. They must be too badass for your lame selves. This stellar collection of revved-up Birthday Partyesque odes to Beelzebub feautures not only jaw-dropping originals such as the mercilessly clanging “Last Gasp” and the unnerving “Snakepit”, there’s also amazing covers of Silver Apples’ “Ruby”, and the most haunting “Miserlou” you’ve ever heard. Buy anything by this band as quickly as you can open your lint-filled wallet. |
