Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
He’s got a name that sounds like Elliott Ness’ punk cousin and a look that’s half Elvis, half mechanic. Mike Ness is Social Distortion’s singer, songwriter and mouthpiece. The music industry’s indifference almost made the medium-core punk band disappear. But 13 years after its inception, the California group is finally enjoying success, thanks to radio’s acceptance of its latest album, “Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell.”
He took his stage name from a Bob Dylan album almost as old as he is and nicks his album titles from Frank Capra movies. So where’s John Wesley Harding’s originality? In his music. An acerbically witty songwriter who sings folk-style rock songs, Harding is touring with a group of musicians who he refuses to Christian with a band name. Catch him and them when they perform tomorrow at the Metro.
As Michael McDermott sips a cold mug of beer at Harrington’s Pub, a wide smiles spreads across his face. McDermott used to play acoustic guitar here not too long ago, and he feels a tad weird today lounging like the customer he is.
Butts are big. When the No. 1-selling pop single in America features a rapper rhapsodizing about rumps, the rest of the world sits up and takes notice. Many people take offense. That’s the case with Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.” But even he doesn’t understand the controversy.
“When my first record bombed, I chose not to look at anything,” says Tori Amos. “I thought I was making a statement having 12-feet-high hair. I didn’t look beyond the outside and had a hard time looking in.”
Rowdy heavy metal rocker Axl Rose cancelled a concert at the Rosemont Horizon and skipped town to escape the long arms of persecuting prosecutors, a representative for the singer says. Leaving thousands of fans waiting outside the Rosemont Horizon, Rose’s band, Guns N’ Roses, canceled a Friday night show half an hour before doors were to open so that Rose could avoid being served with misdemeanor arrest warrants for his alleged role in a Missouri riot last year.
In the four years it took to go from being an anonymous L.A. club band to America’s reigning hard rock kings, members of Guns N’ Roses have created more controversy and publicity by being themselves than most musicians could conjure with an army of PR flacks thinking things up.
“Yeah, I guess my next step is making a disgusting sexist video for MTV,” Luka Bloom said, laughing. “But my treatment would have to be very different. For an Irish rap song, we’d have to get green babes. No, I go for the pretty soft videos, which I hope aren’t too schmaltzy. But as long as it doesn’t get mistaken for one of Michael Bolton’s, I’m fine.”
Miles Hunt ticks off a lot of people. He thinks the majority of record buyers are lazy, that Elvis is little more than a joke and that the media play right into the hands of bands that have next to nothing to offer artistically. There are a lot of people who think Hunt is full of it, including Hunt himself, but the British vocalist for the Wonder Stuff doesn’t care. He’s just got to be him.
“Our producer told us that anyone can get good guitar or drum sounds, but the vocals identify you as individuals,” says Raymond McGinley, guitarist-vocalist for Scotland’s latest darlings, Teenage Fanclub. “That’s one reason why we all sing, even though I’m not particularly comfortable doing it.”
When an actor plays his role so well that his buddy’s mom refuses to speak to him, he knows he has done his job. “After the screening of `Juice,’ my mother couldn’t even look at Tupac (Shakur, who plays Bishop), much less speak to him,” said Khalil Kain, whose character, Raheem, has a tragic falling out with his friend Bishop. “Even though that’s an irrational feeling, I certainly understand it. Certain scenes between Bishop and Raheem were intense even for me, and I knew how everything was going to turn out.”
Joan Jett has been a part of the rock ‘n’ roll vocabulary for so long, it’s easy to forget she is just 32. She has been neither a trend-setter nor a follower in her 17-year music career. Even when critics dismissed her as a novelty, one-trick pony or, perhaps worst yet, “girl singer,” the raspy-voiced musician persevered and produced a string of anthemic records that hailed the primal joys of adolescence with rebellious vocal sneers.
Back when Ned’s Atomic Dustbin started, the five-man British group was lumped in with Jesus Jones and Pop Will Eat Itself in a genre called grebo rock. In English schoolyard lingo, “grebo” is the equivalent of “dork.” In pop jargon, it refers to a long-haired, smelly person. Either way, Ned’s considers the term appropriate.
As a pre-teen, Charlie Sexton studied guitar with the late Stevie Ray Vaughan. Now 23, the former solo artist is teamed up with two members of Vaughan’s band Double Trouble, as well as another Vaughan pupil.
“I wave a banner for Charlie (Sexton),” David Bowie said, calling from Liverpool, England. “I like him a lot. He’s a good kid and very talented. Yes, he’s very pretty, but he didn’t need to be oversold. (MCA) saw him as a one-man Duran Duran, which was a big mistake. Charlie’s a blues boy and that’s where he really shines. Arc Angels probably is the best thing for him at this point in his career.”
“I crush your head. I crush your head. You’re a flathead!” So cries the Head Crusher, a Brylcreemed loser in plaid pants and thick glasses who whiles away his days air-pinching victims’ heads between his thumb and forefinger.
It has been a long time since David Bowie has felt this good about himself. The former David Robert Jones, Ziggy Stardust and Thin White Duke has carved out a new musical niche without creating a new persona to play it out. Bowie is in Liverpool, England, on this day, congenially promoting his group, Tin Machine. He’s newly engaged to the model Iman, and sips on a cup of hot tea, his substance of choice these days. Mentally scanning his flamboyant 25-year career, he comes to the conclusion that his life, as that of most musicians, would make a boring film.
In Hollywood, where every other person claims to be an actor, singer, model or screenwriter, actor Woody Harrelson doesn’t raise too many eyebrows when he jams with his group Manly Moondog and the Three Kool Kats. But when the “Cheers” star takes his 10-piece band out on the road, he attracts a crowd that’s made up of music lovers as well as a strong contingent of curiosity seekers who want to know if “the boy can really sing.”
You wouldn’t think that a name like the Hoodoo Gurus would need dressing up. But when the Australian rock band formed 10 years ago, they billed themselves as Le Hoodoo Gurus.
When Jim Ellison lived at home in west suburban Addison, his parents got used to waking up and finding teenage girls parked in front of their home, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Material Issue singer. When he was on the road touring, Ellison’s mom would walk past his bedroom and hear giggling fans leaving vaguely obscene messages on his answering machine.