Sometimes your past will come hurtling towards you like a runaway train. As is often the case, many disparate elements may find their way into your current life with seemingly deliberate conspiratorial intent. Of course, you don’t have to be Deepak Chopra to understand the thread that links the then with the now. Our imagination really does create the distinction, which we do with the inherent need to name and understand. It goes a long way towards explaining why we come up with nonsensical things like “Christian Black Metal,” and “Acid Folk,” and other equally ridiculous strategically created marketing ploys when we try to pin down expression.
Anyway, on to the the topic at hand. I had the opportunity to interview Charalambides, the band comprised of my good friend Tom Carter (ex-Mike Gunn), and his partner in crime, Christina Carter, for the Houston Press. Getting to speak with Tom and Christina for the first time in way too long got me all sentimental about my past. I took Christina’s place in Tom’s apartment long before they ended up dating, getting married, forming Charalambides, getting divorced, and then getting interviewed by me (in that order, and culminating with the least important bit).
In front of this backdrop, I am reading the Chunklet* Magazine blog today when I stumble across a post about the death of Larissa Strickland, who, for those who are unfamiliar, was the guitarist for the absolutely enormous, and truly amazing band, the Laughing Hyenas. She practically reinvented the way punk guitar was played by laying down sheets of two and three note chords that slash about with lashes of brutal noise. Her style almost single-handedly slays damn near all comers, male or female, in the rock guitar category. She’s not flashy or obnoxious. As far as their personal lives went, Strickland, and her partner in crime, vocalist John Brannon, were basically the aforementioned train once it finally crashes out of control. So it should come as no surprise that she overdosed the other day.
It’s not surprising, but it is idiotic.
And all this gets me thinking about my past, because back when I lived with Tom in that apartment, we spent many hours listening to the Laughing Hyenas double CD, “Life of Crime/You Can’t Pray a Lie,” 1990, on Touch-n-Go.
And before I go any further, make a note, or go buy that CD here: You Can’t Pray a Lie
Comprised of their second and first full-length albums (Played in that order), they hit their peak with “Life of Crime,” an insanely heavy mix of Strickland’s guitar, the searingly over the top, soul wrenching scream of John Brannon (Negative Approach) on vocals, and the dream rhythm section of Kevin Strickland (Mule, PW Long), and Jim Kimball (Mule, PW Long, Denison Kimball Trio, and the Jesus Lizard), on bass and drums respectively. Named for the Hyenas cover of the Weirdos song “Life of Crime,” the album is unrelenting from beginning to end. They ply the blues-meets-the-Stooges-somewhere-in-the-gutter mix as well as you could ever hope. It’s not clever music, although Strickland is actually a fairly complex guitarist, and this is part of what makes the album so strong. Where most guitarists would simply bash out power chords, Strickland always finds a way to play around the melody, creating even more tension over an already near-impossibly tense sound. Kevin Strickland and Jim Kimball hold the bass and drums down, and while also not breaking too much new ground, they still manage to end up about as solid as you could ever hope them to be. The bass and drums blend together more or less seamlessly. Really, it’s an amazing rock record, I love that damn thing.
As it turns out, Strickland appears to have died from too many Xanax, which from what I understand is really hard to do. I was prescribed that stuff once, and I have a years long aversion to anything other than Ibuprofen; so my doctor had to basically assure me that I would have to take the whole bottle to ever even think of o.d.-ing.
Anyway, reading about her death is a shame, but it does pull the past right up to now. Tom and Christina will be here in Houston on the 14th, at Rudyard’s, so I hope to see the local folk there as I will be making one of my rare appearances. In the meantime I will be wearing the hell out of my “Life of Crime” CD, even though I had just hung it up about two weeks ago. Oh well…
*Chunklet’s Strickland post also includes seven unreleased Hyenas demos in MP3 format for your enjoyment. Check out the other blogs on that site for MP3′s of Kraftwerk live with Neu from an ancient live radio broadcast (genius), MP3′s of the Scratch Acid reunion show at the T&G blowout in Chicago, as well as plentiful MP3′s from tons of other bands (Melvins, Seam, Bedhead, Don Caballero, etc…).
I went and voted, but I didn’t see anybody called “motherfucker” on the ballot. Maybe I should go vote again.
“motherfucker” was tom delay and he isn’t running for reelection this year.
have a friend who tried to o.d. on a klonopin (a benzodiazepam, same drug class as xanax). this person took half a bottle, slept for two days, and then went to work as if nothing happened, all the while suffering from complete short-term memory loss- not remembering recent conversations, decisions, emails etc. benzos can be dangerously addictive.
My apologies, motherfucker.
in pennsylvania, they confused “motherfucker” with the words “rick santorum” on the ballot. fortunately, the clever voters figured it out.