„La Sexorcisto: The Devil Music Vol. 1“
(Geffen,
1992)
I remember when I was at the university, I spent a lot
of time record shopping, listening to a lot of music and then sharing my
thoughts and impressions with some friends who were just like me. Or
rather: trying to impress those other record-nerds that hid in educational
institutions to escape real life for as long as possible. Well, anyway,
one day I was sure I had found something that my pals wouldn’t
understand, sneer upon but which was good enough to prove them all wrong
and they would finally have to give in to my unfailing opinions. (That was
back in 1992. Nowadays I don’t care anymore about other people’s
opinions as well as taking a lot more time to come to a judgement –
hence the time-lag to this review.) So I drove to our meeting place, “La
Sexorcisto” carefully wrapped in the plastic bag of my favourite record
shop back then, sweating either with anticipation or because it was summer
and damn hot in that underground. When I reached the park in front of the
university I met Richard, same plastic bag in hand – and he had beat me
by an hour or so in buying “La Sexorcisto”. Well, life teaches lessons
very quickly. On a sidenote: we both also had other records in our bags,
but that one was the only one we had in common.
And it still stands out uniquely amongst that other two
or three hundred metal-records I own, because of its consequent and
uncompromising adherence to a single joke. It is still the only heavy
metal record completely immersed in its own world, manufactured by Rob
Zombie (born Robert Cummings) himself – one man that made himself the
evil comic hero he always wanted to be – out of comics, old horror and
sleaze movies and bad ass guitar riffage galore. Moreover, and unlike the
other records by White Zombie, there is so much of all of this in here,
without a second going by without introducing another funny idea,
connotation or hint at something else. Nowadays, Rob Zombie has become
lazy and likes to stretch one idea as far as it can go. Out of the ideas
from one song on “La Sexorcisto”, he would produce an album, a remix
album, a comic and a feature movie nowadays. (Maybe he just found the homo
oeconomicus inside himself to replace the little satan that once was
there.)
This record has everything you’d ever want from a
metal record, like: great songs, hard grooves, samples of horror and sex
movies, especially Russ Meyer, fast cars and loose women, double-bass at
the right times, enthralling structures and tracks building just exactly
the fistshaking gutwrenching way you’d want it And it lacks all the shit
you’d rather not have, like pretentious vocalists, stupid guitar solos,
clichéd monsters, high pitched air siren singing, boredom, double bass at
completely the wrong time, run of the mill structures and no groove
whatsoever. Thinking about it, “Vulgar display of power” by Pantera
might also apply for all of the above, but “La Sexorcisto” has one on
them: those lyrics.
Rob Zombie dived deeply into the whole comic, trash,
horror and sex world that came to define a whole generation of teenagers,
that couldn’t decide between gothic and grunge and bought all those
books about serial killers from the fifties, tv-series from the sixties,
porn from the seventies, feminism from the eighties, cultural studies and
piercing in the nineties. And he spouts them in a no-nonsense kind of
punchy, alcohol-drenched metal speak-singing that grow(l)s along the
groove of the metal riffs all around him. It is like a
sci-fi-horror-poetry gone wrong. Check this from “Thunder Kiss ‘65”
(try to hit every third syllable with as hard a drunken aggro-growl as you
can manage to get the real effect and rhythm):
livin' fast and dying young like a endless poetry
my motor-psycho nightmare freak out inside of me
my soul salvation liberation on the drive
the power of the blaster move me faster
nineteen-sixty-five
yeah - wow!
demon-warp is coming alive in nineteen-sixty-five
Nevertheless, Zombie leaves a lot of space for the
musicians. Longer instrumental passages show off how they try to follow
their leader’s a dozen ideas a minute tempo. The whole package – from
the cover to the samples – is a perfect metal record to be enjoyed in
almost any hour of the day, maybe except for chilling with your mother’s
aunt or trying to impress a rich girl. The whole presentation, the
theatre-like stage personaes, the wild and gory stories right down to the
crazy outfits made White Zombie one of the most original bands of the
decade. Although in 1992 their outfits were still closer to the
biker-metal-look than to the horror-movie-costume-look of the years to
come. I am sure, that White Zombie couldn’t have started at any other
point in time than in the early Nineties and maybe someone would like to
expand on the economic influence of “Nevermind” on the liberties other
bands could take in the shadow of its financial success. As opposed to the
strategic shock-tactics of Marilyn Manson or Rammstein (both lacking the
musical individuality and virtuosity of the White Zombie members) the
antics of White Zombie never seemed so much planned as rather falling by
accident. Maybe because in the case of White Zombie, the whole thing was
just the vision of mastermind Rob Zombie coming alive without anyone –
laywers, consultants, marketing professionals or else interfering.
Allegedly, it all went off when Beavis and Butthead gave their first video
airing a “cool”. Incidentally, it was also their first record on a
major label, after various releases on small, independent labels.
After splitting up, Rob Zombie turned into a
professional freak, working in comics, movies and music at the side. Well,
he started his career in New York as production assistant for Pee Wee’s
Playhouse as well as doing layouts for porn-magazines, so he knows what he
is up to. Guitar wizard J (real name Jay Noel Yuenger) was last seen (by
me) in a tattoo-mag, where the editors went on about, how they had never
heard of his band. Well, and a column in guitar world. Beautiful
bass-player Sean Yseult, back then also girlfriend of Rob, went on to form
Famous Monsters (a great surf band) and Rock City Morgue. To a lot of
dickheads she was just “that hot chick with the bass”, but that bass
really made her shine and put a lot of energy into White Zombie. Listen to
the solo albums of Rob and try to find what’s missing – exactly: a
proper band sharing a vision (the drummer always being on the rocket stool
doesn’t count in this equation.)
