Tuesday, August 12, 1986
Daily Nebraskan
Page 7
Us
Charles
Lieurance
Summer is this picture of my friend
John standing by Highway 6 with a
squashed possum clenched in his teeth.
He went on to pass the Bar exams and
become a lawyer not long after this.
That pretty much sums up summer for
me. You can descend into the sort of
flesh-eating madness most people flee
from, to that subtle watermark between
devil-may-care innocence and deliber
ate animalism and then snap out of it
for respectability and a life of topsiders
and $10 bourbon.
For all things there must be a sound
track. There's a soundtrack for putting
a possum with tire tracks on its back in
your mouth ("Muskrat Love," perhaps)
and a soundtrack for pulling up a chair
with your lawyer buddies at Brittany's
and popping open a Lowenbrau or a
Bartles and James Wine Cooler ("Musk
rat Love," perhaps).
Here's the ideal soundtrack for any
summer. You say, I'll take the summer
songs but hold the mauled possum?
Well, that's fine. Not everyone has the
level of hostility and frustration of a
future attorney.
"Seasons in the Sun" Teriy
Jacks
I've loved this song in so many dif
ferent ways that finally I've come to
really like it, the way I like "Stairway
to Heaven" or "Blitzkrieg Bop" by the
Ramones. At first I liked it because I
was a sentimental geek in junior high
school when it came out. It used to
come on right after the Hokey Pokey at
the local skating rink, those four rever
berating lead guitar notes. All the
kinetic adolescents would pair up and
skate arm-in-arm. Paula Blecha, then
the unrequited love of my life, sped "
around the rink with 10,000 medals
dangling on a letter jacket hugging her
waist. I was stopping myself by running
into walls, still unaware of what the big
rubber things on the front of my skates
were for.
The thought of suddenly contracting
a disease so rare and lethal that even
soap opera doctors hadn't heart of it,
seemed great. Then Paula would be
mine, at least at my deathbed.
"Goodbye, Paula, it's hard to
die,
When all the birds are singing
in the sky... "
Then Terry Jacks actually killed
himself. Oh, so he meant it, hunh?
Then, this song became scary, a confes
sional poem from the rock 'n' roll fast
lane, more proof of the passion and
conviction of the music. I listened to it
late at night in my room.
Now, I think of Terry Jacks as
another Jonathan Richman cut down in
his prime. I hope Husker Du does a
cover version of the song.
This is for those winsome days of
summer when it's just waning perhaps,
and mortality's heavy on your mind.
The flip side of the single is "Put the
Bone in:"
"Put the Bone in
She told him at the store
Cause my doggy's been hit
by a car..."
This is accompanied by a lovely cho
rus of mournfully yowling canines. Love
ly. Terry, we hardly knew ye.
"Twistin' by the Pool" Dire
Straits
This is a band seriously affected by
summer. Here's their first two albums,
low-key Dylan impersonations and Mark
Knopfler sounding like he was singing
from the asthma ward at Mount Sinai
hospital.
Then here comes "Twistin' by the
Pool" disobeying all the rules of pool
side etiquette, splashing people, run
ning on slick surfaces, jockeying on
people's shoulders, drinking in the
water.
Knopfler must feel a whole lot better
when the sun comes out. If Dylan ever
did anything like this, his record com
pany would pluck out his eyes and send
him wandering through the desert.
"Summertime Blues" Eddie
CochranFlying Lizards
"Gonna raise a fuss
I'm a gonna raise a holler ..."
There's a version for the ducktails
and greasers, and aversion for the artsy
Europhiles.
One is sung like there's no tomorrow
and turns having to get a job in the
summer and not being able to borrow
the car to cruise, into a crisis equival
ent to being caught in a grain auger.
The rockabilly cat bassist slaps his
strings around like it's his cranky old
man. Whew.
The other is sung like there's no
tomorrow too, but the singer's been
resigned to that fact ever since an alien
put a catatonic microchip in her brain
at the age of 10. The Lizards would like
to raise a fuss and a holler, too, but all
they have is a toy piano and some beer
the government has spiked with thora
zine. If you have proof your father was
an 1MB 9000, this version should cheer
you up.
You're not alone.
"Sea Cruise" - Frankie Ford
Same reasoning, but no haircut coun
terpart. "Old man rhythm is in my
shoes
No use sittin ' here singing the
blues.. "
Summertime poetry in motion. Twis
tin', foamin' drownin', in the fog horn
bass and the rolling 40-foot waves of
Huey Smith's New Orleans piano.
I swam and I swam and now I'm
outta breath and drinkin' the Pacific
like it was a big strawberry daiquiri.
When you empty your shoes out after
the day at the beach, you might want to
sift through the sand and pebbles.
"Holidays in the Sun" Sex
Pistols"Holiday in Cambodia"
Dead Kennedys
When you were traveling with your
parents for the two hundredth time to
Mount Rushmore did you ever wish
they'd take a wrong turn on 1-80 and
wind up in hell?
The Sex Pistols and the K.D.s assure
you that there are vacations in this
world that Lincoln Tour and Travel
don't know about. There are places real
out-of-the-way where the waiters treat
you like you just landed on a napalm
beachhead, where the owner of the
hotel is a Nazi war criminal on the lam
and where the bell boys are wired with
explosives. Complimentary body bag
with every room.
"The tour guide, the guy with the
possum in his teeth, assured us wes
terners were well-liked here. Could we
see the manager?"
"Surfin' Bird" Trashmen
Cramps The sound of brains frying in a big
old greasy skillet. Add some cayenne, a
little chili powder...Your lips start sput
tering like a grounded outboard motor
cutting through 50 pounds of ground
beef. The bird is the word. Always has
been, always will be.
"Surfin' Dead" Cramps
Like "Seasons in the Sun" this one
reminds you of mortality. It adds the
bonus idea that if death is a bummer
most anytime, it's really an A-l downer
during the summer. The Cramps in
sightfully conclude that "there's noth
. ing on the radio when you're dead..."
Fortunately, the Cramps have writ
ten the song for the living. After all, the
dead really can't surf. The waves are
too high and they're always hunching
too close to the board.
"And She Was" Talking
Heads
I bought the new Talking Heads LP.
It had been a horrible summer. LES
shut off my electricity so I had to study
by candlelight. No phone. Since the
lights were off, the cockroaches began
to redecorate the apartment, putting
up bunks for themselves and making
meals in the kitchen, that sort of thing.
I'd been to the Plasma Center so
many times that I was writing down my
donor number whenever a UNL regis
tration form asked for my social secur
ity number.
"And She was" with its opening yelp
from David Byrne and its fantastic tale
of levitation, love and sunbathing, gave
me the summer I never had. Suddenly
old man rhythm was in my shoes, I
wanted to make a fuss and a holler,
dance the fandango with a possum in
my teeth.
Of course, I did the Harris Labs
study. I found out how a male 19-27
'Am AA v m !k
reacts to a combination of antihistim
ines and repeated blows to the head
with a croquet mallet, but I felt a little
better about the whole thing. .
"Rock Lobster" B-52s
If you're sitting there scratching
your head trying to figure out what this
song and summer have in common, we
should probably begin again. Okay, so
Jonathan Richman wanted to be Iggy
Pop, Iggy Pop wanted to be Lou Reed,
Lou Reed wanted to be Dylan, Dylan
wanted to be Woody Guthrie and Woody
Guthrie wanted to be a fireman.
The B-52s and the weirdo nirvana of
"Rock Lobster" are in there some
where. This song represents what rock
music and a Baptist religious seizure
have in common. Shake your head
around, fall on the floor and talk
nonsense.
Chris
McCubbin
"Stealing People's Mail" Dead
Kennedys
Of course, when you just have to get
out of the house you can always liven
things up with a little light felony.
"Pablo Picasso" Jonathon
Richman
Thinking about cruising for chicks?
Forget it. Maybe if you were a pioneer
in 20th century art, but you're just
another asshole.
"Going Down to Liverpool"
The Bangles
Don't forget unemployment. You have
the time to do anything you want and
no money to do it with. Of course, you
could be a welfare bum, which is not
such a bad way to make a living.
"Earthquake Song" Little
Girls
If you're lucky maybe something will
happen to liven up your summer. Maybe
your state will slide into the ocean.
Then you can surf the tidal wave, bet
you always wanted to do that.
"Die Young, Stay Pretty"
Blondie
Suicide is not a solution, but on the
other hand can you imagine having to
put up with a summer like this when
you're 50?
"Surfin' Through The Swamp"
Polkaholics
You could try something different
this year. Who needs a beach? Now
swamps that's excitement. Ride the
MM KI)
wild muck. Hang ten on a passing
'gator. Watch out for that copperhead.
"Cruiser's Creek" The Fall
Got a little silly there, sorry. This is
the one that really sums it up for me.
Have you ever been to one of those
parties. . . uncomfortable setting, ob
noxious people, booze is all gone, and
you don't go home because. . . it's
home. That's what summer's like for
; me. Have fun (fun, fun, fun, fun, fun. . .)
: "Pulling Mussels From a Shell"
i Squeeze
Summer vacation, what a wonderful
time. Relax, unwind, watch people, do
some shopping. A little beach combing
is good for the soul.
"Genius of Love" Tom Tom
Club
And then there's the confused ecstacy
of young love. When else but summer is
Buck Naked's back
By Craig Anton
Staff Reporter
Buck who? And the what's?
Buck Naked and the Bare Bottom
Boys!
Sure you've heard about 'em but
you've been too nervous to go and
see 'em. "Oh yeah, I've heard about
those guys. . .they're the guys that,
that uh. . .oh, OK wait. . .1 guess
I'm thinkin' about the Finnsters."
The Finnsters couldn't, carry Buck's
G-string for fear of boy germs!
Sure a bold statement, but gimme
a break. Buck, Stinky and Hector
ain't no sissy outfit these guys
rock like hell!
Whadya mean, "rock like hell?" I
mean, they're more fun than a nose
bleed, more fun than seein' your
mom in the shower, more fun than
kickin' your dog, more fun than
more fun they rock like hell!
Put together about two and a half
years ago, Buck Naked pooled his
resources and came up with the per
fect marriage of music and cosmetics,
not to mention that understated
theme of ("finger lickin' good")
sex, sex, sex.
"Rhythm and blues," says Buck.
"Dat's what it is, not rockabilly, not
shockabilly, not billyabilly, maybe a
slice of pornobilly, but basically just
rhythm and blues."
Recently Buck and the boys took
their show on the road and toured
Brian MaryDaily Nebraskan
it so easy to fall in love so hard not to
fall in love.
"Rockaway Beach" The
Ramones
Here's another fun song about fun at
the beach. Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun. . .
"Bitchin' Camaro" Dead
Milkmen
Enough of this fun crap already. I
hate summer. The parties stink, all the
decent girls are taken, and you sweat.
The only people who can really have fun
in the summer are the spoiled rich kids
in the expensive cars their folks buy
them.
"More Beer" Fear
"TV Party" Black Flag
Of course, summer's the perfect
time to veg out in front of the tube and
drink yourself into a coma, if that's
what you're into.
westward through the states of the
Great Plains all the way to the
scenic, cultural mecca of San Fran
cisco. They played for two weeks
throughout the bay area and received
an encouraging response, enough in
fact to cut some demos in the stu
dios of Subterranean Records.
"We also shot the video for our
latest hit, 'Teenage Pussy From
Outer Space,' " said Buck. The bay
area offers a variety of places to play
and make money and the band looks
forward to returning soon. For now,
however, they will head to the oppo
site side of the country and spread
more of their joy and heartfelt music.
"This is the Bend Over and Let
Me Drive Tour," said Buck. "We take
off this week, and are scheduled to
play Madison, Wis., Columbus, Oh.r
a wedding reception in Toronto,
Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., the
New Music Seminar in New York,
and then back through to the Great
Plains."
So now the question is, what to
do until Buck Naked and the Bare
Bottom Boys return? Do what I do,
hide from the Finnsters.
That's what Buck's been into. I
wrote this before any of the tour
happened. My editor held it and
held it some more. Now it's over, the
whole tour. The Boys are back and
appearing at the Drumstick Friday
and the Howard Street Tavern in
Omaha, August 19.