Rip It Up - The Throbs

I like the cheap copy. The cash-in. The flimsy facsimile that appears just before a fad fades. I prefer the slapstick whimsy in Superman III over the epic action of it's predecessors. The King Kone over the Cornetto. I relish the two dimensional challenge of the Rubik's magic; I have no time for the Cube. I pour Tip Top over my tinned fruit rather than Carnation...

By the same token, my favourite late-Eighties US glam metal band were the Throbs. They didn't have an Appetite for Destruction. They were, however, rather fond of the crabmeat canapes at the record company press day.

The Throbs, like most of their rockin' contemporaries, adopted a Outlaw/Biker/Gypsy aesthetic. They looked like they'd just robbed the a bank and escaped on their 'steel horses', but they also looked quite capable of mending a kettle.

I prefer the Tom and Jerry episodes from the Eighties where they could both talk, wore matching tracksuits and had called a truce in order to concentrate on running a detective agency.

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Animal Man - Kim Fowley

Sunset Strip Svengali, writer, producer and bandwagon-jumper supreme Kim Fowley launches into a gonzo garage freak-out that renders Iggy Pop's whole sorry career redundant. Bravo! He's wild, he's dangerous and he's more afraid of you than you are of him.

In 'Animal Man' Fowley casts himself as a wild, feral rock 'n' roller, out for blood and a dirty howling riff, but I'm sure I remember him visiting our school and scaring the entire assembly hall with his pet tarantulas. He lost our trust when he tried to tell us that snakes aren't slimy but dry-skinned...

That's just lies. Take your big spiders and boa constrictor and go. Or maybe that was a diferent Animal Man.

I'm going to do something wild and feral this weekend. Maybe I'll ride in the back of a one berth caravan as it's being towed on the motorway. Is that illegal? It used to be but now I think it counts as some kind of extreme sport.

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Manifesto & Book News

If it's ever been on K-Tel or Ronco, it's in. If it features hand claps, cow bells, syrupy orchestration, walls of sound, wrecking crews, sha-la-las, toothy teen idols, candy-based metaphors for carnal acts or lyrics about hugging, squeezing and rocking all night long, it's in.

It's on the table, next to my Swing Out Sister CD



> Martin Lampen (latest book news, contact details and other stuff)

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