Shit! Christ! This is the problem with using the internet when you have so much to get done.  This is can be an even bigger issue when you need to use the internet to finish what you needed to get done.  SXSW is coming.  Sasquatch! is coming.  I have a record review piling up on my plate.  I have 2 more show reviews… some networking….I need to edit another article… I need to do a lot of shit.  Fuck, I need to get a real job!  Then I come across something else and it catches my attention.  Maybe it’s some  crazy story about a 7 yr old that steals the family car.  Maybe it’s some ridiculous right wing propaganda, insisting that a imprisoned sea mammal get stoned to death (like it says to do in the bible).  Maybe it’s a trailer about a futuristic martial artist/lady of the night/cyborg.  Whatever it is, it threatens to stall me out every time.  “Post this now!  Fuck what you’re doing.“  These things scream at me, but I can usually blow them off.  “This is and/or will be posted to death anyway.“  I tell myself.  Or, perhaps, I just throw it on the “I’ll get to that later” pile.  Sometimes it doesn’t matter.  Sometimes, I have to stop what I’m doing immediately and enjoy something with the rest of the world.  “Then sometimes, just sometimes, the Crow can bring the soul back and put the wrong things right “- [I couldn't help myself].  Sometimes, it’s just a music video.

I’m sure that I won’t be the only one prefacing the following video by stating that I’m not particularly a fan of OK GO‘s music, but that I am becoming a fan of their growing catalog of music videos.  By now, most people have witnessed the video for the groups breakout hit “Here It Goes Again“, that features the members performing elaborate choreography on treadmills.  That video helped to show the power that videos, as a whole, could hold, as well as the power that Youtube held as a promotional tool.  Unfortunately, as far as MTV was concerned, videos were on their way out (they’ve even gone so far as to remove “music television” from their station identification logo).  Still, amazing videos seem to surface now and then, continuing to raise question of their relevance with today’s shifting focus and internet age.  3 Months ago, OK GO released a new data mosh-style glitched-out video effort for their song “WTF?“  Innovative?  Sure.  Definitely worth checking out?  Indeed, but it didn’t carry anywhere near the hype of the “Here It Goes Again” video.  It didn’t transcend barriers to the point where it has become embedded forever in popular culture.  Everyone remembers the video for “Take On Me“, but it seems like my girlfriend is the only person that followed A-HA‘s career into other albums.  About 2 months ago (Jan. 8th), OK GO released another inventive video for a song called “This Too Shall Pass“.  That effort featured the group performing as a marching band with the surprise of a horn section camouflaged in sniper ghillie suits.

That wasn’t enough to reclaim their titles as kings of the Youtube music video either.  Two days later, the band posted the following video, which mocks their past internet fame and the fear that it may overshadow their futures in the industry:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Just yesterday (Monday, March 1st), the pop group finally located the right formula and unleashed something that is already beginning to spread like Aids-Fire.  One of the most interesting things about this new video is that it’s popularity can, in no way, be solely credited to the music.  This is because it’s just another version for the song “This Too Shall Pass“, creating the argument that the internet may actually be giving second life to the “video star” and that it may be jumping the shark to present an updated reworking of the Buggles classic.  If you don’t like something about this video, I’m just going to assume that you’re just an asshole.

See what all the hype is about:

Click here to view the embedded video.

DETAILS:

Directed by James Frost, OK Go and Syyn Labs.
Produced by Shirley Moyers.
The official video for the recorded version of “This Too Shall Pass” off of the album “Of the Blue Colour of the Sky”.
The video was filmed in a two story warehouse, in the Echo Park neighborhood of Los Angeles, CA. The “machine” was designed and built by the band, along with members of Syyn Labs ( http://syynlabs.com/ ) over the course of several months.

For those who will be in the Los Angeles area this Friday, March 5th, the group will be making a special appearance at LACMA (the Los Angeles County Art Museum).  The following are the details of the event.

Celebrating the video release for “This Too Shall Pass”, OK Go will perform a rare acoustic set on the terrace of the LACMA West Penthouse. There will be a special screening of “This Too Shall Pass,” along with past OK Go videos, followed by a Q&A with the band. The night will also feature a DJ set by Tim Nordwind and pieces of the Rube Goldberg machine custom built by Syyn Labs for the “This Too Shall Pass” video will be on display. Cash bar.

I first discovered Wesley‘s work when I was in high school and I was immediately drawn to it (pun intended).  Clearly the man had some obvious points of comic appeal, such as extreme moments of profanity and graphic references to bestiality, but there was definitely something deeper to him, even if it wasn’t always easy to determine exactly what it was.  The documentary Wesley Willis’s Joy Rides has successfully managed to capture and express those difficult to verbalize qualities, which made Wesley such a remarkable and inspiring individual.  One quote from the film, which most aptly sums up this phenomenon, was made by Willis‘ friend/art patron, John Stulgate, who said,  “You could see people’s hearts through their interactions with Wesley Willis.”

Although I had been a long time fan, I didn’t get a chance to see Wesley live until 2002.  The show took place in Seattle at The Graceland (now, El Corazon) and Grand Buffet was opening.  I’ll never forget walking from the bar through the doorway into the venue.  I saw Wesley immediately; he was staring frighteningly out of the corner of his eye and in my direction from behind the merch table.  Due to his immense size and weight, Wesley could be a daunting figure and his breaths were loud and heavy like a tranqued hippo.  I, eventually, made my way over to the table to say hello.  I had brought a sniper deployment manual and a 25¢ hardcover book about rottweilers for him to sign, in lieu of my Book of Mormon and 100 Deadliest Karate Moves books, which I had temporarily left in California.  He signed the sniper book but, once he got the rottweiler book in his hands, he was mesmerized.  “Can I keep this book“, he asked.  “Sure“.  After that, it was like I wasn’t even there, so I slipped away as he focused intently on pictures of similar looking dogs.  When the show ended, Wesley headed back behind the table to flip his wares.  I bought a live EP and asked him if he liked the book.  “I got that right back here!” he said.  Then he added, “I wrote a song called ‘Suck a Rottweiler’s Ass‘.  I’m gonna write a song called ‘Suck a Rottweilers Dick‘!“  So I told him, “You need to write a song called ‘Suck the Stripes off a Zebra’s Dick‘.”

“Is that a song called ‘Suck a Zebra’s Dick’?”
“Suck the stripes off a zebra’s dick“, I clarified.
“Yeeah… Which words- whatcha say?”
“Suck the stripes off a zebra’s dick.”
“Suck the stripes off a zebra’s dick.  I’ll write that- I’ll write that for you right now.”

As he signed the CD booklet, he began spitting out some partially nonsensical verses, until he was distracted by the rest of the crowd.  Then I bumped his forehead and, with his giant paw on the back of my skull, I repeated after him as he directed.  “Saw ‘RAWK!‘…..Say ‘ROWL‘!” etc.

Wesley was massive and he performed his entire set sitting down.  The table next to him was littered with over a dozen empty cups that he had drained of beer before leaving the stage.  My girlfriend, at the time, was concerned about the health of the schizophrenic rock star, but I assured her that he was fine and of better health than he appeared.  By the following year, she already had left me; moving from our duplex and into the van of a schizophrenic man who had been secretly stalking our home (seriously).  Lost in this wingnut felon’s fucked up delusions and influence, she was misguided regarding just about every decision and intuition that she would have from then on.  Unfortunately, out of everything, the one thing that she would be correct about was Wesley‘s well-being.  Willis died of chronic myelogenous leukemia on August 21st, 2003 and it was the only time that I had ever felt a legitimate sadness and emptiness by the death of a public figure.

4 months prior to his death, a documentary about Wesley titled, The Daddy Of Rock ‘n’ Roll was released.  One thing that the film showcased was Wesley‘s constant search for additions to his animal book collection; something that I was unaware of when I gave him rottweiler book.  As a fan of his work, I enjoyed seeing random footage of the artist in his day to day life but, as a fan of documentaries and film in general, Wesley Willis’s Joy Rides is much more well rounded.  While it’s predecessor works well for those that were already familiar with the artist’s work, Wesley Willis’s Joy Rides is the type of documentary that is powerful and well-constructed enough for anyone.  Filmmakers Chris Bagley and Kim Shively, created a documentary that sheds light on every aspect of Willis‘ life that I ever wanted to know about.  His troubled upbringing and home-life are more heavily addressed; Wesley has multiple siblings, which appear in the film along with his father.  I was also introduced to the amazing, yet unorthodox, techniques used to produce his drawings (see: 52 seconds into trailer #2).  I can stare at the piece that I have in my home, endlessly boggled by it’s simplicity and depth, not unlike the man who created it.  Knowing that he often ignored the use of rulers and other tools to replicate some of the perfect lines of his cityscapes, makes it even more impressive.  His friends, colleagues, hustling, creative processes and more are all addressed thoroughly.  Most of all, Wesley Willis’s Joyrides shines the spotlight on the intangible aspects of Willis, his life, and what made them so compelling.

You may remember that, back in 2008, our writer, Memes viewed a screening of WWJR at the Noise Pop festival in San Francisco.  [His detailed review of the showing, which featured a Q&A by Jello Biafra, can be read by clicking HERE].  This post is slightly more focused on the DVD release, but my deductions are in full agreement of what Memes has already stated; this film is a “success“.  The only major difference is that I can now add “it’s worth owning.”  Along with the art and photo galleries, the 50 minutes of additional footage only add to the value of this documentary.  Fans of Scream Club and/or Old Time Relijun may be excited to discover members of each group appearing in the extra scenes.  When I first met Cindy Wonderful (Scream Club) and OTR drummer, Germain Baca, they were both members of a Denver-based, all-female group known as Rainbow Sugar.  Not until a few years later, when Cindy gave me a split 7″ feat. Rainbow Sugar and Willis, did I realize that they had worked together.  While Baca does make a quick appearance or two in the actual film, the deleted scenes offer even more footage of that time period and even contain video of Rainbow Sugar collaborating with Willis on a song about Mr. T.  While there are plenty of both tragic and humorous moments throughout, there are also moments of great inspiration.  While too many documentaries have been created under the misguided belief that a subject alone can adequately carry an entire film, this one comes across as well researched and never feels exploitative.  Wesley Willis’s Joyrides is composed with great care, with an equal respect for it’s subject and honesty.  It’s definitely a recommended rental for anyone, however, if you are already a fan of Willis, you might as well just save the loot and put it towards buying the DVD.  If you’re anything like me, you’ll love it like a milkshake.

[Trailer #1]

Click here to view the embedded video.

[Trailer #2]

Click here to view the embedded video.

Wesley Willis’s Joyrides can be purchased through HERE

Either you know who Wesley Willis was, or you don’t. Maybe one of your friends told you about him, describing him as a “street-musician,” “schizophrenic,” or perhaps they even attempted to convey some sort of sample lyric from one of his songs. But you can’t know who Welsey Willis is until you have heard one of his songs and, after that, the name tends to stick.

I first heard about Wesley through my friend Aaron. He told me a story about some friends of his who had given Wesley a ride from a music festival in Minnesota back to his home town of Chicago. What I gathered from his story was that Wesley Willis was a 300+ lb. schizophrenic homeless man from Chicago who writes songs with amusing titles and lyrics (i.e. – “Suck A Cheetah’s Dick”).  I was intrigued, but the force of Willis’ impact did not reach full until I was actually played a few songs. “Chronic Schizophrenia”, “Rock & Roll McDonalds”, and “Outburst” all sounded the same, covered similar themes, and typified Willis’ stream-of-consciousness-rambling-verse followed by chanting-repetitive-chorus  followed back into, stream-of-consciousness-rambling-verse style. I was immediately smitten.  As were a number of us.

Sure, the irony might be lost on the numbest American drones, but those assholes don’t read MosterFresh.com (unless they’re visiting to read about Sarah Larson, George Clooney’s latest girl-toy). But the irony that has become a religion for my generation, as well as next week’s, is embodied in Willis’ music.

In the new documentary Wesley Willis’s Joyrides, filmmakers,  Chris Bagley and Kim Shively, don’t try too hard to decipher the roots of Willis’ complicated personality. Although several interviewees speculate on sources of Willis’ mental illness(es) and unique character, the subject of the film is much more about who Willis was rather than why he may have been that way. Through interviews with friends and family, as well as video footage of the artist himself, his story is told almost as if he were still around (Willis died of leukemia in 2003 at the age of 40). Wesley’s death is barely mentioned until the last minutes of the film, in part because the bulk of the video content was filmed prior to his death.

The film’s success as a documentary is owed to its presentation. Rather than unfolding through a chronological line of events, the film moves organically through the many facets of the musician’s intense personality. The film begins with a portrait of Wesley as a visual artist, sketching cityscapes of the Chicago buildings and highways he grew up around. Willis’ ignorance of conventions (When asked by a fellow drafting student why he always draws with a blue Bic pen, Willis responds, “Because they’re blueprints.”) was far overshadowed by his artistic grasp of visual planes and acute memory for details. Wesley would draw intricate Chicago skylines, often from memory, of the buildings and views he grew up seeing around him. Wesley made many friends (and a modest living) selling drawings to tourists, passer-byes, and anyone who could get past his intimidating appearance to appreciate his unique perspective.

The film then shifts toward Wesley’s musical career. Friend and band mate Dale Meiners describes the rise and fall of The Wesley Willis Fiasco, the latter of which can be largely contributed to Willis’ schizophrenia. The group enjoyed moderate success with Willis at the helm, at least enough to tour regularly and receive a guest spot on MTV. But as the “demons in his head” worsened, Wesley became violent and even more unpredictable, eventually leading to the band’s demise.

Willis’ popularity ensured him a busy solo career, and Wesley continued to travel, perform, and head-butt his fans, despite his growing mental health problems. Wesley was eventually prescribed medication, which calms his schizophrenic outbursts enough for others to feel safe around him. But a busy touring schedule and inability/refusal to renew his prescriptions often left Wesley in a volatile state. The strain this puts on his relationships is apparent; Wesley’s friends love him and realized how important making and performing music is to his mental balance, but a lingering threat of violence and unpredictable fear always surrounded the troubled artist.

As the film delves deeper into his mental health conflicts, the mood takes a decidedly somber turn. Skeletons from Willis’ closet are revealed- abusive and neglectful parents, poverty, being assaulted with a box-cutter on a public bus, and being robbed for his artistic earnings by his stepfather at a young age. One scene shows Willis battling with the demons in his head while a frightened Kinko’s customer observes. The artist punches his head repeatedly, nearly busting his headphones, as he innocently explains to his workstation neighbor that the demons aren’t allowing him to listen to his music.

But while his “demons” constantly cast an ominous shadow over Wesley, the purity and innocence of his character outshine the darkness. As Jello Biafra (friend and Alternative Tentacle Records owner) explained in a Q&A after the screening, for all of Willis’ fears, Wesley genuinely “loved life.” When Wesley boarded a plane, for example, he would provoke only terrified looks and nervous requests for a new seat. But by the end of the flight, Willis would have converted all of the uneasiness of those around him into joy. He seemed to have a way of convincing others of his merit despite his disheveled appearance, most likely assisted by his own ignorance of both.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxZrEOhhvkY

Here is a challenge to any and all MonsterFresh readers (or, at least those already familiar with Willis and his work):
Describe Wesley Willis to someone close to you but who may be unfamiliar with his catalog. Then go see the film. If you can comfortably use that same description before and after seeing the film, then I guess you…..”win“?  Perhaps we can even send you a button or something? I’ll see if I can get some for our readers (admission to the screening included a Wesley Willis button). No promises, though.

The point is, the name “Wesley Willis“ has a lot of buzzwords associated with it. Many of them are negative. The words “Schizophrenic,” “Homeless,” “Unpredictable,” “Over 300 pounds” are not exactly flattering descriptions that anyone would want applied to them. And while the film never tries to deny any of the associations people have with the name (except for “Homeless,” which Willis was often falsely assumed to be, given his poor hygiene), the strength and integrity of Wesley’s character cuts through any of the adjectives that are often used to pigeon-hole him. It is this juxtaposition that makes Willis so available to the audience, which is precisely what makes the film such a success.

Plus, “Cut The Mullet” is a kick-ass song.

-Memes

music

November 8, 2007
Double Door, Chicago, IL

The Meat Puppets
Ha Ha Tonka
Balloonatic

Hello, my name is Slug, and welcome to my first article for MonsterFresh.com. It is a humble article, but it had ambitions to be so much more. Originally, this article was going to be a big, garish piece of writing, throwing around big, garish quotations by the Kirkwood Brothers of The Meat Puppets, one of the best psychedelic rock bands ever, revealing all their drugged-out splendor firsthand. They were the first band I ever saw perform live on stage when I was 16 back in 1994, and I had goose bumps I was so excited. However, instead of my great big garish expose, I am left with only one quote by one band member, which I will get to momentarily, and a lesson learned, which I will close this article with.

After trying for weeks to schedule an interview with The Meat Puppets before either of their shows at the Double Door here in Chicago on November 7-8, I was at least able to get on the guest list for the second show on the 8th. Once there, I figured I would be able to work my way backstage and attempt a spontaneous interview, and I was off to the show, recorder in tow.To start the evening, two bands opened the show, Balloonatic and Ha Ha Tonka. I was too late for the Balloonatic set, but I did catch Ha Ha Tonka. They were okay, better than most opening bands, but still a little too polished and poppy (alas, not of the opiated sort) for my tastes. They had rough sketches of a Rolling Stones sensibility not short on bluesy power chords and cheesy lyrics, the type of style very popular with young rock bands trying to break the scene. While they did provide some rocking tunes for me to get drunk to, as soon as I looked at the stage, I choked on my Pabst, as they had the appearance of a post-indie radio band destined for one-hit-wonder status. To distract myself, I meandered over to the merchandise table.At the merchandise table is where the night gets interesting. Since I had not paid for a ticket, I decided to buy a concert poster for $10. However, there was no re-entry, and I did not want to hold onto the damn thing all night. I started schmoozing with the merch guy, who eventually said he would walk me through the backstage entrance to run to my car, drop off the poster, and let me back in the Double Door’s second door. Just as we turn toward the backstage area, the man himself, the infamous Cris Kirkwood walks into the bar and starts talking to my new buddy, the merch guy…

…Before I continue with the evening’s story, I would like to preface it by saying that the Meat Puppets originally split up in 1996, due in part to Cris’ raging substance abuse problems. It is widely known that he would partake in just about anything and everything, heroin and cocaine being his substances of choice. There are stories around the web detailing Cris’ rollercoaster life, including two possible deaths (one being his wife) at his Arizona residence where the band used to rehearse. Most recently, he was released from prison in 2005 following an altercation with a security guard at a post office. Apparently, he and a woman began arguing over a parking spot, and when the guard intervened, Cris grabbed the guard’s baton. In the ensuing melee, the guard shot Cris twice, sending him to the hospital, after which he would spend 18 months in prison for felony assault. In summary, Cris is one fucked up dude, at the same time both lucky and cursed. And his appearance told it all: his long, Scarecrow gray hair, his scruffy gray beard, the crazed look in his eyes, and enough wrinkles on his grizzled face for every drug he’s ever done, and probably for each day he spent in the clink. While Cris was dealing with his troubles, brother Curt continued to make stellar music. If you are not familiar, check out the self-titled album by Eyes Adrift, the short-lived supergroup Curt formed with the bassist from Nirvana, Krist Novoselic, and the drummer from Sublime, Bud Gaugh. It’s a wonderful album that any Meat Puppets fan is sure to enjoy. But I digress…

The merch guy nods in my general direction, but Cris was oblivious (as I had expected he would be). I am told to follow them, and proceed to the backstage entrance. Once there, they run out to the street to their van, and I am under the impression that I am about to get high with one of the biggest drug addicts in modern rock history. Unfortunately, all I got was my one quote for the evening…

“Hey, hold that door!“, Cris yelled at me.

There I was standing at the backstage door, turning street people away from the entrance, while the guy I wanted to meet was likely getting high in a van maybe 20 feet away.  I felt like a chump. Minutes later, they come back in, Cris breezes right past me, and the merch guy tells me to run fast to my car.  I drop off the poster, and return through the backstage entrance.  That was the last of my backstage experience for the evening, but not for a lack of trying.

Before the end of the Ha Ha Tonka set, Cris joined them on stage for a short collaborative effort that got the crowd excited. Shortly thereafter, the Meat Puppets show begins, Curt and the new drummer Ted Marcus (who replaced the retired Derrick Bostrom) joining Cris on stage. And to my pleasant surprise, they were tearing up the joint, rockin out like a bunch of high and angry teenagers who had gotten all F’s on their report card because they huffed too much Glade and got grounded for summer break.  In other words, they hadn’t lost a step.

I didn’t keep an accurate setlist, for I was much too drunk for that bit of obsessive/compulsive nonsense.  I do remember my own highlights, though.  I remember the first song I recognized was the title track from Up on the Sun, arguably their best album ever next to Meat Puppets II.  It was a great rendition, with Cris jumping around on stage, bangin his head, and laying down thick thumping basslines.  At one point, I turned to the merch guy and said, “Goddamn, Cris is playing like a madman, like a man who just got released from prison!” It was funny ’cause it was true, and we both had a good laugh.

The Puppets also played a number of tunes from Meat Puppets II, including the three songs performed with Nirvana during their Unplugged gig, “Plateau,“ “Lake of Fire,” and “Oh, Me.” From my hazy drunken memory, I also remember the songs off their outstanding new album, Rise to Your Knees, fitting in well with their past repertoire, a true sign that this band is not just playing the mid-life crisis/reunion shows, but that in this day and age of poser-wannabe major label indie bands and homogenized crap rock, The Meat Puppets are still a viable rock band, among the best in the business.  They encored with their only radio hit, “Backwater,” and I was blown away at how good it still sounds, even after all these years. Curt’s guitar solo in this song alone is worth the price of admission.

After the show, I was told to stick around and there was a possibility I could meet the band.  So I hung loose, downed a couple more Pabst, and waited for my opportunity.  As time continued to pass, I started to fear I would not get my chance. I decided to take matters into my own hand, and this is where I learned a hard lesson.  I found out where the band was, and tried to get past the doorman.  After me running my mouth long enough, he went back to ask the band if I could shake their hands.  And I quote, “I’m sorry, but the band is trying to get high, and they don’t want to be bothered. You don’t have anything to offer do you?” Well, unfortunately, I didn’t. I had spent the previous couple days leading up to the concert trying to score some combination of illegal substances, but as I’m new to Chicago, I only have a couple connections, all of which were unavailable. I hoped that it would not be an issue, but I was wrong. Instead, I was forced to walk away with my tail between my legs. I mean, what self-respecting music journalist tries to gain access to a backstage pow-wow WITHOUT drugs???? Well, my lesson was learned.

Morals of the story:
1) The Meat Puppets still rock
and
2) Never approach rock stars without a stash.

-Slug