Tag Archives: Road Rage

Under The Radar: Sex Pistols Tribute

Rip it. Rip it good.

 

Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated? 

That classic Johnny Rotten line could potentially come to mind every time you give a tribute album a shot, although I am probably more tolerant than most. The problems usually range from labels using the concept as an exercise to produce a roster sampler (certainly makes accounting easier!), so you’re at the mercy of their acumen in selecting not only the artist to fete but the bands they sign. Others are major label attempts saddled by the ridiculous need to have name artists as participants. Not to slag the more successful bands, but sometimes they are more clueless than the label’s Executive Producer – you know, the nutjob who thought it as a good idea to match artist and song in the first place. 

More often than not, the greater successes spring from a smaller label; one that either has or collaborates with a visionary who sees the project as a labor of love and respect. Having the connections to rope in some worthy artists never hurts, of course, especially since these things do not sell well. Which also explains why ninety-five percent of them will sail under your radar

While I was refiling some albums this weekend I came across a doozie from a decade ago – hard to miss with an electric cover like that. Certainly not a perfect one, but if you’re going to blast the rust off an old year and start fresh, what better torch to blaze than The Sex Pistols? This review originally ran in PopMatters

 

Seventeen (no pun) songs in 50 minutes—that’s about three minutes per and that’s just about perfect. Which is what this concept is, too; from the drop-dead look and feel of the cover art to the selection of some of the more raucous punk bands to participate. Besides paying props to the classic Never Mind the Bollocks album, additional cuts include cuts from singles and The Great Rock and Roll Swindle. Some of the tracks nail the energy and spirit on the head while others…oh hell, it’s a tribute record, you know the drill. 

Kicking off the disc is The Booked’s version of “Holidays in the Sun”, absolutely relentless and everything you would hope to get from each interpretation. Ditto “No Feelings” from The Generators; The Boils’ amped up version (really!) of “Submission” and especially Road Rage with “EMI.” Road Rage’s drummer Victicious (you’ve gotta love that!) sounds like he’s shooting off cannon blasts, while guitarist Gav shreds on guitar. “Friggin’ in the Riggin,” the Sex Pistols’ John Valby-ish performance from Swindle, is actually a worthy inclusion thanks to Showcase Showdown’s spirited take. The two biggest Sex Pistols tracks (“God Save the Queen” and “Pretty Vacant”) get decent bar band treatment, but aren’t as strong as they could be. I mean, it’s only three chords…oh, never mind, I’m just a lazy sod. 

When the bands do swing and miss—like L.E.S. Stitches’ disappointingly over-the-top try on “Bodies”—it’s for much the same reason so many hard rock bands suck. They take themselves too seriously! When it’s all bombast and no sense of humor, it’s just (as Johnny Rotten would say) booorrrinngggg! Actually, this record makes you realize just what an emotive vocalist Rotten was, especially when inferior vocalists (Blanks 77) trip over themselves. But everyone does rip it up, even when the drummer in Submachine sounds like he’s broken everything but his snare. 

Overall though, this is a long overdue CD—kudos to Radical for a solid effort! And labels, take note—tasks like spending some time on clever artwork, listing all the tracks with credits and providing information (names, contact numbers, addresses) for all the bands involved should be mandatory. 

LISTEN 

One and done

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Stand Up Wit…Nick Di Paolo

"Am I that old that I have to warm up before I give somebody the finger?"

"Am I that old that I have to warm up before I give somebody the finger?"

Detractors call him a racist, a misogynist and/or a homophobe. I prefer the term equal-opportunity offender. But whatever you call him, Nick DiPaolo is funny.

Although the name and accent might scream “Brooklyn”, DiPaolo is originally from the Boston area, although he’s been a fixture on the NY/NJ comedy scene for years. His blunt, brutal sarcastic edge might flow like a river of well-directed bile, but that cadence is a product of great instincts and skill, highly polished over a two decade career. For Nick, nothing is sacred (including, and especially, himself) and we’re all along for the ride. A veteran of the comedy club and late-night TV circuits, Nick was also a main panelist on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn and is a frequent member of the dais for the Comedy Central roasts.

Funny How is a Gatling gun of intolerance towards marriage, bad customer service, reality TV, drug commercials, sexual and racial inequality and the general stupidity we encounter every day. Recorded at the ACME Comedy Club in Minneapolis prior to the 2008 election, DiPaolo naturally spends a bit of time skewering the candidates, but not too much; only a tiny bit will risk sounding dated years from now. (The John McCain bits were great, but you could tell the physical gestures he was making made it twice as funny for those in the audience!) Despite being an avowed Republican, he rightfully whacks everyone – on both sides of the aisle. Yes, folks, Nick DiPaolo is a uni-ter, not a divi-der

Lots of laugh-out-loud moments; my favorite bits were the “Bat Story” (a bat loose in his bedroom turns Nick into a pussy) and “To Catch A Predator”, which almost made me drive my car into the guard rail. Half the fun is listening to Nick toss out three jokes in a single sentence, see the audience catch one or two and then chide them for missing the money shot. I’ve caught a lot of his televised appearances, and although I imagine a lot of this is seasoned club material to NYC fans, most of it was new to me. The couple of routines that weren’t (like “Dead Pope” ) remain so strong that I laughed as hard as I did the first time I heard them.

If you buy a Nick DiPaolo album you know it’s not something to play at the children’s party, so those with the right wavelength for this material should go grab it right away without reservation. (Also be sure to check out Nick’s earlier albums, Road Rage and Born This Way. Both are really funny, and if you like any of the three, you’ll like all three.)

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I wish I could say the same for the album released by Nick’s frequent Roast partner in crime, Jeffrey Ross. Granted, I popped the CD in with high expectations having enjoyed Ross’s brutal podium work in the Comedy Central roasts. But No Offense: Live From New Jersey is a big disappointment, thin on material and containing very few funny lines. Half the CD is an extended bit where two audience members (and I suspect the second was a plant) come onstage and play piano as Ross recites nonsense poems about his balls or whining in Chinese. It’s the kind of joke that works once if you do it right (Sam Kinison did it to great effect years ago) but it gets tiring the second and third time you trot out another poem, and then after that it’s just painful to sit through. Ask Dice.

I will not smell that finger, no sir!

I will not smell that finger, no sir!

Maybe it was the blue hair crowd at the casino that caused him to milk a routine that was working, or maybe he didn’t want to cross the line too deeply in front of an audience of relatives and friends…I don’t know. But silly poems? Ross isn’t John Valby, he’s a throwback to the quick-jabbing comedians of yesteryear, only more vulgar and gross because time has changed what’s acceptable in a commercial theatre (the old timers could be filthy and vile too, but most kept that in the clubs). The sharp put-down, whether to others or himself, is his strength, but he didn’t play to it. Then again, I’ve only seen Ross on television; I’ve never seen him headline a full show – maybe this is his act.

Or maybe the whole album was satire and it went over my head? Nah. He’s better than this. Hope he documents a stronger performance on CD/DVD soon.

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