Main Lines, Blood Feasts, and Bad Taste - Lester Bangs [145]
first I was just gonna slur my way through it, but then as I gradually realized that not only was I conscious but even relatively sober and lucid and finally reclaimant of my faculties, I began to apply myself, to care, to work at the phrasing, thinking about what to stress or underplay and where and why. I mean, after all, it's something of a challenge to daub in the shadings on lyrics like “On the ship I dreamed she there/Smelled aroma (the roses? Romilar? Rope burns?) down in her hair.” It's not exactly “Miss Otis Regrets,” but it’ll do. I began to play with the rhythm, holding notes or parts of phrases, trying to make them soar out, then biting them back viciously. No doubt I sucked. Nobody cares. In fact they were in ecstasy. So who knows, maybe I didn’t suck. Which just might be the essence of Frat Existence and Philosophy: Hey, you, World—I DON’T SUCK GODDAMMIT!!!!! Right, fine, you don’t, me neither. Hell, for all Ior the rest of the band or the whole entire room knew, I could very well be singing the greatest version of “Louie, Louie” of all time! Shit, and nobody there to record it! Though actually the Delinquents did happen to have their tape deck on, told me next rehearsal that it’d sounded great and offered to play it for me. I demurred. But I guess that means I really did sing it better than anybody else ever. Why should they lie to me? The only fly in the ointment, and I wonder if I am the only one that knows it, is that I also know that whether I sang it the best version of all time or the absolute mange-ridden worst in a long slumgullion of stinkeroos, it makes absolutely no difference whatsoe’er. What a song. It's like the weather. Indestructible, yet still mysterious, inscrutable as Madame Nhu's death mask. We finally finished up and got off—well actually I’d been finished and off for quite some time—and after packing up we walked around the house a bit, mingled with the natives. We’d mingled with ‘em before the set too. Still didn’t get acquainted with anybody. Since then I have had occasion to converse (somewhat under duress, I should probably also state) with certain denizens of this particular subculture, at which time I learned that they are quite literally impossible to talk to or with, and for that matter even when they’re not around there's not a hell of a lot to say about ‘em. They’re kinda like, anthropods, or something. Marginally extant. As I trundled from room to room in their palace, I could overhear scraps of bypassed conversations. “—called Johnny Rotten and the other one named himself Sid Vicious. They stab themselves with pins to protest society!” “Sounds sick to me.” “Well, of course I wouldn’t actually go so far as to just lay down and buy one o’ their records, y’know, but still you gotta admit they’re pretty funny.” “—puts out like a generator! Go on, call her! Here, I’ve got the—” “—ive thousand a month plus dividends, premiums, bonuses, perks, the works! Plus they’re gonna show me how to fix—” “If you puke in the sink again we’re gonna throw you on the floor and piss all over you.” “—and so then the fag that's dressed as Frankenstein says to the girl Mad Doctor—” “I just don’t! I just don’t, that's all!” Well it was all fairly fascinating even though there was a whole lot I didn’t understand. It's always broadening to the character to delve into new and unknown social milieus, and then, perhaps even … go native! Outside on the sidewalks all of us in the band gathered to discuss the evening's events. It seemed that most of them felt that some new and perhaps meaningful rapprochement had been forged, certainly encouraging, one short but significant step on the road to eventual utopias of brotherhood, fraternity (yep!), and understanding, a world where both spike head and Izod might coexist and even help a brother with his load, especially seeing as how they’d both ended up addicted to the same drug. It's a lovely portrait, but I’m afraid I just can’t quite yet link arms with the joyous masses marching and singing down that golden Freedom Highway to the Wizard's castle. It seems I have