Wig Wam Bam - Issue 69

Issue # 69
July 2005
thewigwambam.com

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Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998

WIG
WAM
BAM
“Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism”

LOCAL SHOWS
NM venues, bands from here or there

Dirty Novels, Gallipoli, the Rip Torn, Jealous Gods, Amazing Larry, Gina Go Faster, Pale, Fair to Midland, Unit 7 Drain, Someday, Romeo Goes to Hell, the Gracchi, Dead On Point 5, Lousy Robot, the Go Go's, The Pixies, Violent Femmes, the BellRays, the Epoxies

LOCAL RELEASES

NM bands, any label

Romeo Goes to Hell
Two Car Garage Rock
[CD 2005]
by BrzrkrJoe

LOCAL CONTRIBUTOR

Black Tie Dynasty, [daryl]
by Doctor Bloor

EXPATRIATES
Former Albuquerquenos who have gone off to somewhere or another

DJ Obenjyo is fast becoming Albuquerque’s own Nardwuar with interview Q and A from all sorts of people with old-school ‘burque connections. -- ye editor

Obenjyo: this is Jeremy Davies brother of Jeff Davies who appears in Dig! The Brian Jonestown Massacre movie. And both brothers were one time residents. Because Jeff is hard to track down, his bro was obliged to answer.
Jeremy Davies: Alright Chocha. It's early in the morning so I'll try to answer with total clarity and sincerity so here I let rip.

LOCAL ZINES

VBF #1

TRANSMISSION MAGAZINE
Volume 3, Issue 2

LOCAL SHOWS

Dirty Novels, Gallipoli
5/14/05 @ RB Winning

The combo Pauli B Novels birthday show and maiden voyage of java hut/Sunday AM hangover station RB Winning as all-ages-rock-space!

Gallipoli played as a unit pretty well although that dueling delicate/loud style doesn’t move me but they’re more skate than emo and thank god for that.

Overall, though, the sound in the joint was outstanding. For such a sparse bare room the acoustics were simultaneously bright and warm, complimenting the Novels deceptively-delicate sound. As I’ve said here too many times (and promise to shut up about hereafter), a bad mix does this band a tremendous injustice. This night I could hear every member perfectly without even trying, something that can rarely be said for even the best club sound. And everyone played well.

Although I agree its great to have more spaces for “the kids” to see shows, I gotta admit I’d prefer a couple glasses of booze to go along with my live show experience.

Our crusading mayor thinks that rockn’roll and imbibing adults shouldn’t rub elbows with under-agers (except of course at high-dollar city-supported venues like Journal Pavilion, Isotopes Stadium, the State Fair…). I get the impression he’s afraid of interactions between drunken old men and teen girls. Fair enough, that’s a huge ugly problem. But if he’d care to look at statistics, he’d find there’s more abuse at home and family situations rather than between complete strangers.

No, its easier to look for a scapegoat downtown. Especially when the real estate in question would be more lucrative to new investors rather than simple rockn’roll clubs; clubs where us music types leave everyone else alone instead of contributing to the Downtown Action Team’s Disneyfied version of a thriving metro scene.

Hmmm…I seem to recall that same Team being overjoyed about corporate crud clubs like Banana Joe’s moving in downtown. You remember, right? that place where multiple fights broke out opening night? that closed its doors without warning, owing wages to already underpaid staff..?

If Mayor Marty gets his way perhaps a TGI Friday’s will locate downtown instead. Now that’s economic development for you!

The RIP TORN, JEALOUS GODS
5/13/05 @ Atomic

This wasn’t the Jealous Gods most stellar moment. Somehow the Atomic stage isn’t usually well-suited to the dreamier side but more of a rip-it-up tear-it-down-spill-beer-all-over- every-thing venue (although I must admit, I’ve seen some very nice Shine Cherries sets there. Go figure).

This was my first seeing the Rip Torn and also my first look & listen at (ex-Dead On Point 5 bassist) Mateo boom-booming on the drums. A riot of hard rockin’ instro tunes, it was like being on a building site with buzzing circular saws, keening planers and divine hammers but all in rhythm and harmony unlike any bunch of construction workers you ever saw.

I don’t know what these guys are building but it sounded solid.

AMAZING LARRY, GINA GO FASTER
5/18/05 @ Atomic

Sorry to say, finally hearing Gina Go Faster after all these years didn’t put the sugar in my coffee so to speak. It was like this morning’s black java in a styrofoam cup--and I don’t even like coffee in the first place. Sorry guys -- non-descript punk rock, paling in comparison to the next band on the bill…

The first time I heard Amazing Larry (through a CD they submitted to my dubious review skills) I didn’t much care for ‘em. It sounded to me like lo-fi dumbo punk with little to redeem it. Live, however, was another story. Yes, Amazing Larry is totally lo-fi and only a little dumb but distinguish themselves as old school retardo garagepunk rocknroll, like we used to hear around these parts from lo-fi’ers like Los Drags or Scared of Chaka.

Too, it totally makes sense since frontman Rob “Dewey Decimal” Yazzie was part of one of my old rockn’romp faves from Tucson, the mighty Fells.

Tonight Robbie flailed all over the stage while his drum & bass player thrashed --or is that “trashed”?--- right along with him. It only goes to show (me) that oftentimes, one listen isn’t enough to decide if I like a band or wish they would go back to their day jobs, making Subway sandwiches.

Don’t go makin’ no sandwiches, Rob, OK?

Unless you do ‘em up with fry bread, that’s another deal entirely…

PALE, JEALOUS GODS, FAIR TO MIDLAND
5/19/05 Launchpad

From the very first notes, Austin’s Fair To Midland sounded like someone I didn’t want to hear. So ignoring all pretense of journalistic objectivity, I didn’t. I will say that the style originated in headbanging but in a cleaned up/slowed down way with maybe more intelligence in the lyrics but the singer reminded of Dave Matthews smoking three packs a day.

The Jealous Gods neo-psych sounded great in the large room & sound system of the Launchpad; the bass was booming but as usual the demure Miss Kerianne’s keys were a wee low on the volume. As the show went on, she turned up, all to the good. I guess takes some practice to not overwhelm a keyboard player and I hope the Gods work on this a bit more. Still, each show reveals improvements.

Houston’s Pale at first seemed like they might be ok, with an instro intro of a dreamy nature, not shoegaze but lovely in its own way. But then the singer stepped up and his voice was quite unlovely and drove me off.

Still, I tried to find some info about them online but--not that I’m casting aspersions on the band -- a link claiming to go to their homepage led me to a site called Blind Date Bangers. Ewww, nevermind.

UNIT 7 DRAIN, SOMEDAY, ROMEO GOES TO HELL
5/21/05 @ RB Winning

RB Winning All Ages Series II was another winning (haha) show.

Romeo Goes To Heck (hey gotta change the name since there were little tykes present) played a stellar set of punkn’roll just like I’ve come to expect from them.

They…uh..uh...hmmm. Too many lazy rock writers use the tired phrase They didn’t disappoint. Romeo didn’t but they deserve better than that. They satisfied? They pleased? Jeez, I dunno. Levi writes better prose than me. Maybe he can set me straight. But all’s I can say is they know how to do their job well. Somebody ought to be paying them big salary for this shit.

The youngsters on the bill, Someday, were next. Sorry, kids, but too loud and too emo are two strikes for me. There was no third as they are well-practiced and drew a good crowd but otherwise… it was the bottom of ninth for me, two strikes, a man on first and the pitcher at bat.

Things wound up with the lovely Unit 7’s lovely CD release set for the lovely all-age fans (the umm large-ages show was last week at the Launchpad). The last Unit show I saw, Harry and Ella shared a vocals mike, a move I’ve always loved ever since I first saw Lennon, McCartney and Harrison trade off on the old Beatles appearances on Ed Sullivan. Here they had two and while they harmonized strong as ever, not seeing that tiny bit of magic again wrenched my heart (sniff sniff). But it was more than made up in the way Bobby wrenched reverberations from that synth while looking quite suave, the way Tony strangled the neck of that guitar and Chris beat up his drum kit. But all in the friendliest way possible.

Cute as can be was to see somebody’s little girl in the crowd (eight years old? ten?) get her CD autographed by those hip Unit 7 rockstars. I know just how she feels.

the GRACCHI, DEAD ON POINT 5
@ Atomic
LOWLIGHTS, LOUSY ROBOT
@ Burt’s
5/28/05

Lousy Robot opened somewhat subdued to a somewhat subdued crowd but being sub-dudes themselves, it all seemed just grand, especially with a couple of new tunes

Next it was old home week when Damien (ex Scared of Chaka) took the stage as Lowlights and drew all kinds of aged punks, hipsters , scenesters, and, uh, scene-stars. He was solo this time around in that way that many ex-nutzoid punks go for these days, original acoustic with some keyboards and a little ol’ strum und twang. Of course everyone kept saying well, its not like Scared of Chaka. Christ! I hope not! Give the man a break! How many years has it been? Still, though, I gotta admit that I’d never seen Damien on stage before not doing grand scissor-leaps while battering a bass guitar but I wasn’t expecting that. I was however expecting something a bit more toe-tapping so I think that with a band (as I hear Lowlights normally is) there would have been more to interest me.

Dead On Point 5 have risen from the grave again, no more savory than recurring hardcore zombies but kicking just as much ass. It was a treat to see the return of “the kid” (only he isn’t much a kid anymore), drummer Tim Stix --actually Tim Nixon but I like my name for him better. I think he was one of those guys that locked himself in his bedroom at age 15 and didn’t emerge until he play John Bonham, Neil Peart and Keith Moon licks to a “T”. Led by Dom/Vinny who sports a new modified mullet-flip do, Point 5’s thundercore always warms the dark recesses of my heart reserved for mad saints and rabid dogs.

Finally, the Gracchi tore up the riff n’ roll like bad boys cutting class to smoke cigs in the boys room. I’m willing to bet guitar-girl Laura snuck in there too to light up, cock-rocker that she is…like Lita Ford after a sex change, then deciding better of it and reverting back to female. Snip! Snip!

Their recorded stuff (sadly, only mp3’s thus far; get on the ball you lazy f**ks!) belie a bit more melody than can be discerned beneath the assault of their live antics. On drums Jeffrey/JJ (another ex-Chaka boy!!) clowned it up more than Bozo on black beauties. The originals were great, the covers inspired if not easily recognizable (White Wedding, The Kids Are Alright) and their set outstanding, ear-ringing. Yeah, they got the bomp.

the GO-GO’s
5/28/05 @ Route 66 Casino, Rio Puerco, NM

My full enjoyment of this show was doomed at the start. Oh, “the girls” played just fine, actually pretty damn good for a group that was written off as impresario/monster/ scumbag Kim Fowley’s puppets right from the start.

Naw, it was the fact that due to circumstances beyond understanding, I wasn’t in Denver for the annual two-night stand of the Detroit Cobras. Agony, oh agony!

It was a fun night anyway even at a Casino full of people who probably knew nothing but We Got the Beat and maybe Vacation. All the hits were played of course but these were the weakest parts of the show really. Wake up, sheep! You don’t need the cue of some song you’ve heard hundreds of times in the grocery store to get you off your feet.
The set list took quite a bit from their latest (God Bless the Go-Go’s, a few years old now) which is as nice a pop record as has come along in years. Even Billy Joe Greenday co-wrote a pretty good song on it.

My favorite cut though is Throw Me A Curve, a rant against bulimic supermodel X-Ray girls and their deleterious effects on the minds of almost all women no matter how enlightened they might be. Although the intent of this song is right on, the reality check is this: when the CD came out in 2001, Belinda Carlisle posed for Playboy and made sure she dropped about fifteen pounds before the photo shoot. Oh well, she never was the most genuine Go-Go anyway.

No, Jane Weidlen proved herself again as most punk of the outfit (let’s not mention that MTV reality show garbage she got mixed up in recently shall we or else that statement goes right to hell).

The Casino’s sound was surprisingly good but what’s the deal with the most expensive seats right up front being folding chairs? They were more comfy than your average steel butt-killers but still--folding chairs in a swank hall? No class!

In all though as you might expect, a Go-Go’s show was purely fun with the added bonus of good musicianship.

I’ve no regrets I went to this roomy modern venue but I’d have given it all up for a couple of hours inside that dank cramped stinking Denver pit known as the Lion’s Lair where the Cobras no doubt tore it up with low down dirty class.

the PIXIES, the VIOLENT FEMMES, the BELLRAYS
5/5/05 @ Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison CO

Okay I’m a fucking rock and roll snob, so what? Detroit’s BellRays were squandered as an opening act but they stole my show even though I’ve seen them twice before. But it was weird seeing them with hundreds of people in front of me rather than ten feet away at some club. They opened with their signature song Changing Colors that draws attention to the fact that Lisa Kekaula is black, but of course that always gets mentioned in any write-up so why not pre-empt it?

And I will say this over and over and over again: no! Lisa does not sound, look, or act like Aretha Franklin, at all, ever. They’re both black women but the similarity ends there. Just because uninformed critics have no other frame of reference doesn’t mean that the Queen of Soul has anything to do with our reigning Queen of Maximum Rock and Soul. Ok, now we can get back to the show.…

The ‘Rays were more whammy-jammy than previous sets I’ve seen where they got into some jazz timing and changes that work well in their music’s context. Kekaula is the perfect frontwoman with that badass stance, made even more prominent during one tune when she stood legs splayed, arms wide apart, shaking a pair of screaming yellow maracas. And bassist Bob Vennum was as usual hopping all around, pulling the beat down and low. In fact it wasn’t just straight-up bass but fuzztoned. Yeah, fuzzbazz!!!

Me, I’d never heard the Violent Femmes before except for two songs --that blister in the sun ditty that was all over alt.rock radio ten years ago and a cover of Jet Screamer’s Eep Op Ork Ah Ah. (the latter song was in reality from the Jetsons show back when all cartoons had bands to capitalize on the Beatles fame). So I don’t know what I was thinking but I expected some harder edged new wave or something. I thought those two goof songs were an anomaly. In short, I was bored as hell. If I want comedy I’ll seek comedians. To me, the Femmes songs are like Saturday Night Live sketches. They sound good as a one-line concept but in execution are played out less than a minute in. Naw, these guys --venerable though they be -- I’d lump in as buffoon rock with Primus, the Dickies and the occasional Flaming Lip. I was likely the only seated only person out of 1400. Ho hum.

The Pixies romped and stomped top to bottom right from the get-go. Kim Deal even had a pixie haircut but it was her simple and mammoth basslines that shone as well as her monotonal but affecting voice. Beautiful. And Black Francis roared like a motherfucker, still damn close to the top of his game although somewhat uh wider than ever.
The Pixies are unsurpassed among all old bands to pull off an improbable reunion career. Death To The Pixies indeed.

the EPOXIES
6/15/05 @ Launchpad

There was a packed house for this all-ages rager. I guess the kids dug the two other bands on the bill, the Aquabats and the Phenomonauts. I didn’t even bother to watch ‘em since I was doing my civic duty (take note, Mayor Marty! ) by staying up front at the bar and not mingling with the fragile and impressionable young minds of those who might be scarred by my heroic intake of three drinks. I suggest we take things a step further by issuing teens blindfolds and earplugs at every show, just to be on the safe side.

I love the hi-energy sci-fi nuclear winter blockparty-fun of the Epoxies but why oh why do promoters insist on booking three bands together just because they appear similar from the surface: i.e. costumes and spectacle? No matter how they look or what a fun show they put on, the Epoxies couldn’t be more serious. Nuclear disaster as a “hydrogen solution to our suffering”? Fucking brilliant.

I was a wee disappointed they didn’t play more stuff from the new LP but otherwise it was good to get pumped up by their catchy punky new wave. Who knew atomic apocalypse could be so much fun? Kinda makes you look forward to it…

LOCAL RELEASES
NM bands, any label

Romeo Goes to Hell
Two-Car Garage Rock [CD 2005]
by BrzrkrJoe

So… Romeo Goes to Hell. Heard of ‘em? Who the fuck hasn’t, right? Okay, maybe Helen Keller, but you can’t really blame the girl, can you? Don’t make that face; I doubt she’ll be reading this anyway. I guess what I’m getting at is that there is not ONE tight pants and cheap sunglasses wearing, Buffalo Exchange shopping, Manhattan and Cape Cod drinking, Wig-Wam-Bam reading, all-knowing, cooler than you, Albuquerque hipster who doesn’t know who this band is. So, I’m sure, they ( or you ) already know their CD goes on sale August 5th. Hence, the CD release party at The Launchpad, said date; with opening acts Lousy Robot, Scenester, The Gracchi, Feels Like Sunday, and Unit 7 Drain.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Romeo GTH is a punk band. I doubt they would either (call it a hunch). But, regardless of what genre or sub-genre (seriously, what the fuck is “shoegazer”?) you feel like lumping them into, there IS something for everyone here. Whether your idea of a good time is standing nearly motionless (save, your tapping foot and barely nodding head) and sipping Cape Cods, or running around in circles like a maniac and spilling your PBR and everyone else’s drink while your at it; their live acts are a blast, and the CD reflects that nicely.

Romeo Goes to Hell does a success-ful job of freeing themselves from any musical constraints that would be thrust upon them. In doing so, they have created an exceptional album. It’s very “poppy“ much of the time, but it only lends credit to the fact that these songs are CATCHY. Certainly much better than a lot of signed acts you would hear on the radio or goddamn, fucking MTV. Also, better than some of the more popular ‘Burque bands ( by the way it’s pronounced “Boor-ke`”, as in Spanish slang, not “Burkey”, dammit. ). This is rock music, pure and simple. Noelan’s timing on the drums is fucking impeccable; especially on Black Whole (seriously, YOU try that shit ), and EVERYone’s got the cool vocals. Frontman Levi does the lead vox on all songs and has a voice all his own. Bassist Rachel reminds me of the singer for The Red Aunts (sorry, I don’t know her name ); all the while lead-guitarist Rex absolutely tears the SHIT out of his guitar doing the solo jobs, and complementing songs with his I-gargle-with-sulphuric-acid growl. Some people might not like it (Harry), but other people don’t like every vocalist to sound like Morrisey either. The key boards, complements of “ Big Dog “ Josh, are subtle, but present (I swear); and the guitar and bass licks are heavy and hard-hitting most of the time, but melodic when called for.

There isn’t anything unbearable, even if there IS a couple of song’s I tend to skip (I liked Let’s Go Bang the first few times, but now I can’t hang). My favorites would have to be, Black Whole , Nobody Succeeds With Success and Petal To the Mettle, probably since they’re the “faster” tracks on the album, and I like fast. The CD sleeve is reversible, giving you a choice of two different, but equally sweet cover layouts. I won’t give away which ones they are, but, unless you’re Helen Keller, you probably already know. All in all, it’s a great CD; and this is coming from a fairly cynical guy… Hey, I just know what I like; and I certainly like this release.

All comments in defense of Helen Keller or hipsters are to be ignored by: BRZRKR JOE@myspace.com

LOCAL CONTRIBUTIOR

DBlack Tie Dynasty, [daryl]
6/198/05 @ Atomic
by Doctor Bloor

"Smells Like Tuaca" or "Swim Trunks, Flip Flops and Eyeliner"

"It looked like a crime scene covered up with ice cream." – BTD

Sunday night in Albuquerque and the vodka is humming in the back of the head and Black Tie Dynasty's live show is coming on you like clove cigarettes.

I was one of those kids that shut my bedroom door and lip synched to my favorite records in front of my mirror. (Some kids used a tennis racket. Not me. I have always hated tennis.) I don't believe that there is any more honest performance than the one that takes place behind closed doors. All alone and nothing to lose. That is Black Tie Dynasty. Their natural intensity clings to you. They come across like the Real Thing.

No. Stop. Wait. Let's back up here. Dallas' Black Tie Dynasty were scheduled to play on Sunday with [daryl] and "special guests." Well, [daryl]'s van broke down in El Paso and the special guests were apparently me and my friends. But that's not all. BTD had the air conditioning in their van flake out. Cory said he'd ridden all day wearing nothing but swim trunks, flip flops and eyeliner. That's a scene, man. It's enough to bring you down when you're far from home on a Sunday night.

But then the lights went out. It was the Darkness before the Noise. That’s how it started. That was the beginning of an entirely different thing. Black Tie Dynasty rocked and stomped and jangled and read minds and did some things that I don't even have verbs for. The words are just not there. There is nothing that can prepare you for a BTD show. There's so much to pick up on. I hear The Cars. I hear The Cure. I do. And I hear Echo and the Bunnymen. And I hear it all through that vodka filter. That's right. That’s how it is. On a Sunday night, far from home, Black Tie Dynasty shook through a generous and committed show and that's what we came for. It sure is.

The swimming trunks and flip flops were gone. But the eyeliner was there. And Black Tie Dynasty's live show is coming on you like clove cigarettes.

EXPATRIATES

DJ Obenjyo is fast becoming Albuquerque’s own Nardwuar with interview Q and A from all sorts of people with old-school ‘burque connections. -- ye editor

Obenjyo: this is Jeremy Davies brother of Jeff Davies who appears in Dig! The Brian Jonestown Massacre movie. And both brothers were one time residents. Because Jeff is hard to track down, his bro was obliged to answer.
Jeremy Davies: Alright Chocha. It's early in the morning so I'll try to answer with total clarity and sincerity so here I let rip.

How long was your brother in the Brian Jonestown Massacre?
It's hard to say exactly how long when you sum up the years because there was a lot of on and off with all the members of the band. As far as I recall the band was started in and around 1992-93 by Anton Newcombe and Travis Threlkel. At that time Jeff had been playing with this band Broom once in awhile and when I first moved out to SF he was starting some other project with this chick named Allisa from Ohio and a guy named Cujo. They were called the Ugly Ones or the Ugly Things. Something like that. As to when he actually became a concrete figure in the band...who knows but it was around 93-94 and then on and off for what? Nine, ten years or so and a few guitarists later.

How did he meet Anton?
I have no idea how they met but it must have been from around the San Francisco scene which was pretty influential at that time. SF was yet to become the corporate idiotsville it is now governed by avarice. Travis,
Rick Myami, and Matt Hollywood had started the Imajinary Friends in 1993 and I remember some falling out between Travis and Anton right around then. Jeff was living with his then his old girlfriend Roxanne at the time and I remember Anton was even then preaching up and down the streets about rock and roll revolutions and showing up at party's to play something he thought was amazing-washing out the party with his static-psychedelic yabyum whatever-talking about a legion of hollow body guitars marching at the audience and coming for mothers children in their beds at night.

How many times did he quit or was fired?
Who knows. With Jeff's schedule errrr...lifestyle. I guess he probably did get fired from that gig. I don't know. I still see some people from back then who talk about how their going back on tour with the BJM and speak about it as it were some point of fantastic interest. I always kinda shake my head and say...oh, well have a shit load of fun. And the reply is always the same cavalier-Oh, Anton's not that bad, and then they come back from on tour with the familiar sneer in their lips and say-Fuck that guy! I left them in Gloucestshire or some shit!

What is Jeff's opinion on the film Dig?
I think that the film just tripped him up and got him a bit morose. I remember we went to see the preview unedited version at the Kabuki in Japantown before it came out. The whole time I sat next to him I would hear these little groans and some girl's name along with -aaawwwee poor Shelly or Deanna was so great. Rick was two seats down and kept blowing snorts out of his nose that sounded like a backfiring bong. After the show I remember that Jeff and Joel (the tambourine player) were asked to get up on stage and answer questions for the audience. A few minutes passed and it got really embarrassing so Joel started doing ad-lib standup for everyone. Jeff was standing there looking stunned and in need of a drink. I suppose that he had just had 10 years collapsed onto his brain and it felt weird. Overall, I think it just made him nostalgic for chic's with the occasional-That guys a dick!-commentary about some random person in the film, i.e. the fat ass manager showed in the VH-1 show about the band's "neurosis". Every time that fat manager was shown Jeff would pummel a fist into his palm.

How long has he not been with the band?
About 3 years now I guess. As far as I know Jeff and Anton are still not speaking, but are "amiable" with each other. Brother or not I think Jeff got/and/or painted a bad picture for himself with the fight between him and Anton. The rumor mill says that Jeff got beat up, but I think what it came down to was a sucker punch, some rock and rolling words in an RV aisle, two honky skinny dudes arguing and slimy wrestling about some trite shit imagined by screwy brains with meat for thoughts.

Were Jeff and Anton good friends?
Yes, they were good friends. My take is that Jeff pretty much believed in Anton-which is the ability that that guy has over some people-to make you think that he's some part of a big R & R conspiracy revolution that is going to make all of your Rolling Stones moments come true and you too can be the guy on stage or in the video jammin' your axe up the crotch of a sexy vixen while the kids scream your name. As far as genuine friendship goes-they might have lent each other money for a burger when they had it-so yeah.

How long did you live in Alburquerque together?
We moved to ABQ in 1980 and spent a brief stint in Denver where Jeff fell asleep for a whole year and woke up only occasionally to get some 3.2 beer. When we moved back to ABQ he was around for a short while
and then lived behind the Frontier in some big house with a bunch of weirdos.

When and why did he split for San Francisco?
It was around that time that Jeff, one day, got on the back of a motorcycle with some guy named Derek I think, and the two of them just drove out to SF. End of story and who knows how that went.

How long was Jeff wearing braces for and why did he get them taken off?
Jeff got those braces when he was about 15-16. Born in '67. So you do the math. When I showed up in SF in ’93 that thin band that wrapped around them had been pulled off one night by him and some girlfriend and a bottle of something. I remember his disappointment over the fact that he just had digits stuck to his teeth. They stayed for many years, and when he came to stay with me in Ohio we were trying to keep some rhinestones glued into them for effect. They kept falling out though. It was around 98-99 that he showed one day all smiles and it took me a few hours to figure out what looked wrong about him. All the girl's missed "Jeffy's braces". Personally, I think that should have been the focal point of Dig! rather than the feeding process to Anton's megalomania that it was. Oh yeah, he only went to the orthodontist one time to get the braces tightened in all those years.

Why is Jeff hardly featured in the film Dig?
I guess he was out of commission you know, or it wasn't the point of interest the film maker was getting at. Broski did look a little haggard like Merle in the picture.

What happened to Jeff's band Small Stone?
They just split up. Things didn't work out. We’re probably better off.

Where is Jeff living now?
I saw Jeff about two weeks ago at the Dead Meadow show in Oakland. He was missing his shoes and reeked of some strange nocturnal blend of patchouli and tough life. He told me that night he was moving back to LA and catching a ride with that band he said pointing to Dead Meadow. " I fucking love these guys!” he said. Where are your shoes bro? I says. Fuck SF, it's so uptight you know-I've been here a year and........ shhhhhhhhhiiiitttt. Down there I can just play music. People show up all day and make music. None of this beep beeep bllink blong shit. Hold on my phone, my small car, my stupid job, my goddamn synthesizer. San Francisco can suck my fat dick At this point he had picked up some amazing piece of foil off the ground and thrown it-hitting some girl as she walked out of the club. The girl looked at me for a long minute and then said to Jeff- Where are you shoes bro? I know that he had gone to SXSW to play it solo and then had to get a job in a magic store for two weeks to pay his way back. So I guess he's in LA. Who knows?

You and Jeff have the same father correct?
Yes, same dude. Different chicks.

How long was Jeff getting money from the government and how long has he not worked?
.Eeerrrrrr....next.

Who is Jeff's favorite musician?
He once told me in a really passionate way about Gene Clark, but then you know he could go on the same tangent about Sade.

If Jeff quit heroin would his system collapse?
Yes and no. When he stayed with me in Ohio he ran out there so I watched him sweat the fever for about a week, but then the guy would swill a fifth of vodka a night with seemingly little affect. It is a love affair I suppose. Talk about stamina. And he doesn't get the fresh blood like the old fuckers in the Stones.

Do you think that Jeff would or could ever put out a solo album?
I know that he's been trying for the past year or so to do just that and he played a few shows around town. The college radio would announce the gig with that lustrous additive "a show featuring Jeff Davies, former member of the BJM playing tonite at the Hush Hush." but now that Dig! came out you hear that about once a week as if that were the apex of their career.

You'd never think that so many people could have been in one band. As far as a solo album goes...did the BJM ever get big enough to spark the interest of a solo project for each and every member? Are we going to see Jeff on the cover of his own album-sitting in the snowy field with some fire coming from a ranch chimney in the distance and the horses grazing on the barren terrain while his Eskimo wife yanks fish from the ice pond? Holy shit! He's not Stephen Stills, but you know, in 20 years some kids might pull that shit out of a thrift store and be, like, this guy was the indigit, and his early stuff zowks! I wish they still made 12 string guitars.

Did Sabar ever try to kick Jeff's ass?
No. In fact as I remember Jeff saying to me once. Sabar's alright, he's just confused that's all. Jeff would really stick up for anyone.

He's got that kind of heart. He told about one event that took place back in the 80's where Jeff and Sabar were at the same party and at one point Sabar came up to Jeff and called him a fag. You’re a fag Sabar said. To this, Jeff replied No I'm not. and then played a song on his guitar while a bunch of girls gaggled around. Later that night he got laid, and Sabar probably got into a fight. Another incident was when Jeff came back to ABQ for a visit and he and Craig Robinson were down on Broadway getting some food with Jeff on the back of Craig's Vespa. I guess Sabar saw Craig and got pissed.

As Jeff later told me, Sabar was walking towards him and again said You’re a fag. to which Jeff replied, again, No I'm not. His lipstick and mascara were neatly done that fine morning, but then it was Craig
that Sabar was pointing to and said You’re a fag. To which as far as I can remember Craig said No I'm not. Somehow Jeff ended up getting both of them out of a fight with his cool. He had said to Sabar Hey, Sabar, how's it going man? I guess that was when the confusion started for Sabar or it was the fact that some elegantly dressed dandy dude and another lipstick- cladden, bouffant hairdo, jelly slipper brace face gutter geisha looking guy riding side saddle on the back of a Vespa somehow equated to such faggotry that two positives made a negative. How can we begin to understand the brain mechanisms of the beasts churning meat mind?

How do you suppose that he has made it this far?
One word. Duende.

Can you tell an Alburquerque story with Jeff in it?
Yes, no. Too many. On one occasion I was supposed to be watched by Jeff when our father was out of town. I insisted that he take me out with him to wherever it was that he went and with the cajoling of Swan aka Robert Lockheart they let me ride with them. So I packed up a thing of Jello mix which I used all night to get sugar rushes from and we went cruisin' around ABQ in Swan's old Pinto. At some point we picked some of their friends, these two sisters, one of them being the point of infatuation for Jeff. It turned out that the other sister had the same desires, but not the one Jeff had wanted. Later into the evening after some stupid shit like kicking a trash can over or stealing a yard gnome Jeff was wasted on the MD 20/20 or some such swill. I guess the other sister wanted Jeff alright and she was feeling hot and he was spinning on the MD. We were at some park and the whole time this sister chick was trying to get all new waver crazy make out sesh with Jeff and Christian Death was playing on the tape deck and then Jeff just hurled into this poor girl's mouth. He had contested her advances though so I think that there was no ill will, but the girl was surely disgusted, and it was in her hairspray and everything. So Jeff went out into the grass of the park we were next to and lay down. I was spinning off the trees with a nasty red Jello finger and trying to steal swills from what was left of the MD, but Swan wouldn't let me and he was busy trying to calm the puke mouth girl down from her heartbreak-it wasn't that Jeff didn't like her, he just drank too much, but hey, I think you’re hot. It went something like that and according to Jeff, some time later into the night the other sister, the one he wanted went over to Jeff on the grass to see if he was OK. I guess they bumped it in the park grass, or so he said, and the vomit taste had gone from his mouth. Charm.

Did you ever watch the BJM practice, what did you think?
Yeah. I saw them quite a few times and it was whatever-annoying. Like Mutiny on the Bounty with too many guitars and Anton thinking that everyone was fucking with him by having their guitars out of tune.

Dischord is the word for it. I remember one time going over to Anton's house with Joel and trying to play some of Anton's new songs. He kept grabbing my fingers and jamming them into fucked up minor this and diminished that. Then we'd start over from the top again and again, and he'd do this close my eyes thing to feel the music more stronger facial expression and I kept laughing at him and Joel's mouth twisting face racing ape from the speed he was on. The whole thing fell apart but I was lucky you know, because I was so bad at playing guitar that Anton never bothered me again about coming to play music with him and Joel ended up on tambourine. Fuck it. Maybe we all should do solo albums. Or we could just listen to the BJM-every record made with new members but the same sound-the band that was created for you to love to hate.

LOCAL ZINES

VBF #1
36pp, 8 ½ x 11, monthly; free;
Contact@VBFMagazine.com

Again? Another slick local, subtitled ‘”Albuquerque’s Entertainment Magazine” --takes a stab at -what?-- collecting ad revenue? That’s gotta be it ‘cause VBF offers nothing of value. Its minus 459.67 Farenheit; that is, Absolute Zero. Content? Don’t make me laugh: a Vin Diesel feature story? A “piece” about the BMW M5? Reviews of Deuce Bigelow, Seed of Chucky, Bewitched and Batman Begins? Who gives a shit?

Oh and the friggin’ Model of the Month!! A true humanitarian, she says, “At some point in my life I’d hope to join the Peace Corps, but my final destination rests in Costa Rica where I’d like to open my own bar”. Its worse than the Playmate Profile where Playboy points out that the centerfold enjoys macramé & Chinese vegetables.

This rag truly lives up to that epithet. Its all filler: Historical People and Events: June 29- Senator Robert F. Kennedy died in Los Angelas [sic], 1968. U.S. History 101 for the nightclub crowd. A public service!

The Guide to Nightlife is no more than club names, addresses and phone numbers: no descriptions, no mention of music, events, food or the character of the place. Oh, but what I did learn from the pictorial section of The Guide is that apparently only “hot” girls go to clubs and they seem to be having a great time. Usually without dates so all you horny dork guys out there, here’s your chance!

I know I’m going on and on with this but I’m doing you a great service, really, since that just about covers it. Now you won’t need to pick up a copy and then feel bad about having to throw it in the garbage.

TRANSMISSION MAGAZINE
Volume 3 Issue 2
28 pp, 8 ½ x 11, ?; free transmissionmagazine.com

Back from the dead and encompassing more than music (galleries, film, food, fashion) I was ready at least to give TM kudos for finally looking professional--although the lack of music focus diminishes my interest to miniscule.

But then I turned the page to Keeping Downtown Safe and Alive by Mayor Chavez, a piece defending his attack on all-ages venues like the Sunshine and Launchpad in favor of venues like Isotopes Stadium, Journal Pavilion or the State Fair where incidences of underage drinking are much higher. Too bad he has no explanation other than “the environments are completely different as are the locations”.

wow.

Dear Transmission: now we know whose side you’re on. Thank you for cutting back on your music coverage. Please cut it even further and leave us the fuck alone.

Wig Wam Bam is written by Captain America | po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196