In 1981, rock band Tommy Tutone released their second album, 2. The lead track and single was a song called “867-5309/Jenny”. As you can imagine, placing an actual phone number in a song was, while catchy, also problematic. Lorene Burns from Alabama, who unfortunately had that very phone number, had to change it in 1982. “When we’d first get calls at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning, my husband would answer the phone. He can’t hear too well. They’d ask for Jenny, and he’d say ‘Jimmy doesn’t live here any more.’ Tommy Tutone was the one who had the record. I’d like to get hold of his neck and choke him.”
Tommy Tutone was in fact a “them” and the song was written by guitarist Jim Keller, with Alex Call from the band Clover. The song soared to #2 in Canada, and #1 on the US Mainstream Rock chart. It’s a great tune. David Lee Roth recently covered it, but in its original incarnation, it’s a guitar driven rock classic with a plaintive chorus and memorable lyrics.
Jenny Jenny who can I turn to? You give me something I can hold on to, I know you’ll think I’m like the others before, Who saw your name and number on the wall. Jenny I’ve got your number, I need to make you mine, Jenny don’t change your number, Eight six seven five three oh nine.
Many Jennys were teased worldwide (my wife included) by boys singing the song to them; an anthem of calling a number found on a bathroom wall. The origins of the song are unclear. “There was no Jenny,” claimed Alex Call in 2009. The number, he said, just sounded right when sung. Tommy Tutone lead singer Tommy Heath claimed in 2008 that Jenny was a real girl, and they wrote her telephone number on a wall just for laughs. The Alex Call account sounds more believable.
Whatever the origins, many people with that phone number were prank called year after year after year. One day in 1998, I heard “867-5309” for the first time. Although I was not involved, a prank call ensued.
It was at the old Heuther Hotel in Waterloo (now, sadly, destined to become new condos). I had a bad day (girl trouble), and was taken out by friends to get over it. I sat enjoying a rum and coke (Captain Morgan’s spiced rum, always) with my co-workers Neil and Trevor. In fact, it could have been my first ever spiced rum. Tommy Tutone came on, and I liked the song, which I was unfamiliar with. “It’s Tommy Tutone!” enthused Trevor. “You don’t know this song? Come on!”
We rocked along to the tune for a bit before Trevor realized that 867 was a local number.
“Should I call and ask for Jenny? I’m gonna call and ask for Jenny!”
We laughed and I said no, but the drinks were flowing and Trevor dialed up 867-5309.
“Hello?” went the female voice on the other end.
“Hi, is Jenny there?” asked T-Rev with total innocence.
“Jenny’s not home,” went the answer.
“There’s actually a Jenny there? COOL!” said T-Rev. He was assured there was indeed a Jenny there.
“No way! Really? A Jenny really lives there?” Once again, he was told yes. “Do you know there’s a song called ‘Jenny’ with this phone number?” The person feigned ignorance and reiterated that Jenny was not home.
“Cool! Can you tell her Trevor called? Thanks!”
And that was it! We laughed all night about there being an actual Jenny at 867-5309, but I think the girl who answered the phone was just so used to getting this call that she called Trevor’s bluff.
We may never know. Please don’t call 867-5309 and ask.
“There was one customer in Cambridge who hated selling to me, he always asked where “the regular guy” was. He asked my name and I told him it was Sanchez. When T-Rev came back, we had a laugh over the employee named “Sanchez” who was apparently low-balling this customer for his dance CDs.” –Record Store Tales #526: Location, Location, Location
The year 2000 wasn’t a particularly happy year at the Record Store for me. My good buddy T-Rev, who normally managed our Cambridge location, was also a talented guy with a hammer and saw. The boss sent him off to the GTA to build one of our new stores. This left his location unmanaged for several weeks that summer. Because I had a car, I was often the go-to guy to fill in for others. This meant pulling double duty, managing two stores at the same time. Sometimes I’d be working the morning in Kitchener, and the evening in Cambridge. I remember the boss promised to make it “worth my while” but never did.
Another manager had to do two stores at once, and thought I shouldn’t be complaining about my lot in life. My answer: “You do you!” I’ll complain if I like. It took them weeks/month to pay my mileage, so yes, I’ll complain.
Each location had its own quirks. Some stores had customers that were more into dance, others had customers that liked classic rock. Cambridge appealed to the lowest common denominator. We had just as many customers asking where the strip club was, as were looking for classical music. (An exaggeration, but a funny one.) Cambridge also had regulars who were used to dealing with T-Rev, aka “the regular guy”.
Here’s how it went one night in Cambridge.
Dude walks in with a box of crappy dance music. “Hey, is the regular guy in?”
“No, I’ll take a look at those for you,” I’d respond, although I really didn’t want to have a look at them.
“The regular guy usually gives me a good price,” came the answer.
“Well, we have a pricing scheme that helps us give you consistent pricing, so I’ll take care of that for you.”
“OK…” was the reluctant response.
I’d go through the CDs, which were often scratched and/or outdated, mixed in with a few things of higher value. I’d sort through. Put them in piles of things that were scratched vs. in good shape. Check to see if we had too many copies already. Check the scratched ones to see if they could be fixed. Price them accordingly. Call the guy back to the counter to show him what I found.
This particular guy wasn’t happy, of course, and was sure that the “regular guy” would have done better. (I would make sure I called “the regular guy” and tell him what I offered so this guy wouldn’t be doing any better when he returned.)
He passed on the offer. “When is the regular guy back?” he asked. I told him two weeks or whatever the answer was. He then asked my name, because of course he would complain.
“Sanchez,” I answered. It was my standard answer for when an asshole asked my name. I looked nothing like a Sanchez. I was as pale as a sheet of paper. I also had tried to bleach my hair, which came out kinda orange. Sure enough, this guy returned to the store and complained about “Sanchez, with the orange hair,” who low-balled him on his dance CDs.
I had already discussed this guy with T-Rev, and so when he came back, he didn’t really offer much differently than I had. But because he was the “regular guy” and not “Sanchez”, the guy took the money and we got the CDs. We had to do twice the amount of work to get them, since T-Rev had to repeat everything I did, but we were fairly consistent.
T-Rev called me. “Hey Mike! I just had a guy in here complaining about somebody named ‘Sanchez’ that lowballed him for his dance mixes? Said he had orange hair?” We had a good laugh about that.
I didn’t have to use the name Sanchez often, but I did use it!
1991 was the beginning! While I was busy furthering my education, the future owner of the Record Store prepared for his grand opening. The store was in a mall location and had a minimal staff. It filled a niche in that mall, and managed to survive where other stores did not. It wasn’t hugely successful, but that was about to change.
In 1994, everything shifted. The owner brought in a tray of his own CDs to sell used, and they flew off the counter. “Why not?” he asked himself, and switched to a 50/50 used/new format. I bought my first used CD from him that July. It was Kiss My Ass, which was a brand new release. I paid $12 instead of $19. Perfect, especially for a CD you didn’t want for every song! I vowed to shop there loyally.
Later that month, July of 1994, I had the opportunity to keep shopping, but with a discount! I was hired part-time. The first used CD I bought as an employee was Rush’s Chronicles. The sticker price was $20 instead of $34.
In 1995, the owner opened his second location with a novel 90/10 used/new format. This format took off, and in 1996 he opened the third location. He asked me to manage it. I had been waiting for just such an opportunity. It was the start of a decade long run for me, managing record stores. I missed saying goodbye to the original location, but relished having my own full-time management position. What a ride that was, as you have seen and read!
At the end of ’96, the original location finally closed but moved to Cambridge, utilizing the 90/10 format. It was the end of an era – the era of the original location, which is still fondly remembered by all who worked there. For Record Store Tales #1000, let’s pay tribute to the original mall location of the Record Store. Some of the best years and memories of my life. Very little of this will be new information, for there are only so many stories to tell. However I hope you find this 1000th chapter interesting and entertaining: a tribute to the original!
Record Store Tales #1000: A Tribute
Back when it opened in 1991, it was just nice to have a Record Store at the mall again. We used to have an A&A Records & Tapes, but they closed in 1990. There was a period of time where there were no record stores within walking distance, except the Zellers store‘s meagre music section. Unfortunately the Record Store prices were comparatively high: $14.99 for a regular priced cassette. I didn’t know then about things like cost and overhead, but Columbia House was a better option for me. Still, he managed to keep that store alive. Some of tapes I purchased there before being hired included Europe’s Prisoners in Paradise, Fight’s War of Worlds, and Mr. Bungle’s self-titled. That may have been it. Tapes weren’t cheap.
Then the used CDs came along. A used disc like Kiss My Ass was cheaper than its cassette counterpart; a no-brainer purchase. I was very fortunate to get on board the train just as they were taking off with a great idea. The owner hired me in July of ’94, and T-Rev shortly after in August or September. The things I saw come in used during my first weeks and months were incredible. Rare import singles, bootlegs, and lots of out-of-print metal stuff, long before reissues were a “thing”. I’d frequently have to choose what to buy for myself from paycheque to paycheque. I’d look up items in our supplier’s catalogue, and buy anything used that was currently deleted. Stuff like You Can’t Stop Rock ‘N’ Roll by Twisted Sister, or the Brighton Rock albums.
There were a number of CDs we had set aside as store play copies, but only a stack or two. We could play anything that was in stock used, but if someone bought it, that was that. Two of the store play albums we played most often in the summer of ’94 were Alice In Chain’s Jar of Flies EP and Stone Temple Pilots’ Purple. Whenever I hear that Alice In Chains today, I can really feel that whole period again. Dark, but with a nostalgic glow due to the years. Once T-Rev and I started working alone, we picked our own music. If you heard Max Webster blasting from the store, then T-Rev was working. If you heard Sabbath, it was me.
We had a TV to play MuchMusic, but most often it was on mute while we played CDs in the store. The boss hated that TV. I think one of things that bugged him was when a customer asked him, “When did you get that TV?” It had been there for three years! I think I may have used it to watch Star Trek once.
I loved closing the store. You could listen to whatever you wanted. There was a lot to do though. Balance the register, do the deposit, take out the trash, vacuum, and file any inventory bags and tags from sold items, so they could be re-ordered. Each CD we stocked had a copy with a tag or bag on it, with the artist, title, and record company. These were then filed in a book at the end of the day, and anything put in the book would usually be re-ordered. That was the nightly routine. Sometimes I forgot to take out the trash and boy did I get told for it.
T-Rev and I alternated nights. There were two sets of shifts: Monday night, Wednesday night, and Friday night. Or, Tuesday night, Thursday night, and the weekend. We alternated weeks and it was great. But we worked alone, and Saturdays could be a grind.
The thing that really slammed us on Saturdays was buying the used CDs. It was such an important process, because by buying CDs we were controlling our cost of goods. So it took time and it was all done manually. Searching physically to see if we had the CD already. Flip through a book to see if we could find out what it was worth. Inspect the condition. Decide on a value. Keep ’em organized. It took time, and we had no space. I remember we had this small counter, with a big cash register, and off to the side were two damaged CD towers that we basically used as an end table to pile more stuff on.
Every Wednesday night was tag check! We had security tags like most stores, and every Wednesday, we re-taped ones that were coming off. Speaking of security, let’s not forget Trevor the Security Guard, who got me in shit for killing time talking to me too much. And the other weirdo security guard who got me into Type O Negative. Kind of looked like Farva from Super Troopers.
I remember the “regulars”, and lemme tell ya, malls have characters. There was a licensed restaurant in the same hallway as us, so we had the odd drunk. It was just something you had to deal with. If the smell didn’t give it away, the slurred questions did. There was one lady that was in all the time, buying stuff for her sons. Or at least, asking “if we had it”.
T-Rev and I were given a lot of say in what we carried. We special ordered new stock that we knew the store needed. Meanwhile, the boss was bringing in bootlegs and Japanese imports. T-Rev made the signage as mine were deemed too messy. I often wonder if the owner feels that way about my website as well. I was not allowed to make any signs!
The best memories of the Record Store were people, like T-Rev, who remains a friend to this day. It wasn’t long before we were influencing each others’ purchases. He recommended The Four Horsemen’s second album, Gettin’ Pretty Good…At Barely Gettin’ By. I got him into buying singles for the rare B-sides. It was great working with him. Then one day I walked in and a big bearded guy was behind the counter. Tom had entered the picture, and a new era was about to begin. The founder of Sausagefest had arrived and things were about to get heavy! Shortly thereafter, Tom threatened to sleep in the store one night when his car doors were frozen shut. I kind of wish that had happened.
Or how about reconnecting with old school friends at the front counter. Things like that were rewarding, not to mention the sheer cool factor in working at a Record Store in 1994. It truly was the dream job! My collection boomed and I had to start looking at new storage options! And who was there to design my custom CD tower? T-Rev!
So here is a tribute to the original record store, all the great memories, and the best years of my working life! Thank you!
Dave Lizmi was a no-show, but that can’t stop the LeBrain Train from rolling.
We’re good at improvising, so tonight’s show was a discussion of favourite concert memories and rock star encounters. Encounters such as: Rush, Kim Mitchell, Cyndi Lauper and more. Have you heard the story of Lauper asking T-Rev for directions in Sarnia? Or Uncle Meat blowing pot smoke in Geddy Lee’s face? You will after watching this!
Thank you T-Rev for your understanding, and thanks to Uncle Meat for pinch-hitting at the last minute. Apologies to you for the change of plan. I talked to Dave a few days ago, and he was good to go. I don’t know what happened. But we rocked it anyway!
Also — a couple of minor announcements were made, although as we’ve seen, anything can change. Let us know what you think.
The LeBrain Train: 2000 Words or More with Mike and T-Rev
Episode 75 – Dave Lizmi
By now Dave Lizmi and the Four fuckin’ Horsemen should need no introduction. Dave was a surprise special guest back when we did Top Album Cover Designers in May. He’s most famous for being a killer guitarist/songwriter, making his mark in the 1990s with the legendary Four Horsemen. “Rockin’ Is Ma Business”, “Tired Wings”, “Nobody Said It Was Easy” and “Back in Business Again” are songs that should ring a bell or two. The Horsemen burned bright and fast, and their story has not been as well documented as it should be. T-Rev and I intend to fix that tonight.
Dave is a master of tone and riff. We can’t wait to pick his brain and find out what he’s been up to. And we will be taking your questions! Make sure you tune in live!
Unfortunately Dave Lizmi had a family emergency and could not make the show tonight. We hope Dave and his family are OK. In the meantime, the show must go on, so T-Rev and I talked Four Horsemen memories and showed off our stuff. It was a pretty good show if you’re interested in this great band. We hope to reschedule Dave at some time in the future.
Start at the 0:48:00 minute mark to check out the Four Horsemen chit-chat. Everything before that is the first attempt at a Sunset Cam. Enjoy the show! And tune in tomorrow May 29, for a second show, details below…
SATURDAY SHOW! Don’t miss Aaron and Tim Durling from Tim’s Vinyl Confessions as we talk about the Nigel Tufnel Top Ten Cover Art Designers!
GETTING MORE TALE #715: The Lost Chapters – “The First Year”
Ever seen High Fidelity with John Cusack? When Cusack says, “I hired these guys to come in three days a week, and they started coming in every day. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.” That was us. That me and T-Rev. The boss man hired on Trev in the fall, two months after I started. We worked opposite nights and opposite weekends. We were like ships passing in the night. We never would have gotten to be such tight friends if we didn’t keep coming into the store every freaking day!
See, as used CD store, we got in new inventory every day. We were getting in cool shit. I was just beginning to transfer my music collection over from cassette to CD, so I just started to upgrade and buy up old back catalogue. I snagged You Can’t Stop Rock And Roll by Twisted Sister that year, which was a big deal to me because it was deleted at the time. I got some Dio CDs that I never had before. I began collecting Rush in earnest. We had rarities too. I got a split King’s X / Faith No More live bootleg called Kings of the Absurb which is pretty damn good. I really got quite a few CD singles at that time too. A few previously unknown Faith No More singles dropped into my lap. It was crucial to come in frequently. If you didn’t, you might miss something you were looking for. Or something you didn’t know you were looking for.
After two months of shadowing the owner, I was working solo and loving it. I got to pick my own music every night, within reason. There were obscure rules. Judas Priest was out, but Soundgarden was OK. Anything that was a new charting release was considered OK for store play. We were allowed to open anything to play it, as long as we didn’t abuse that. For the first while we were even allowed to bring music from home.
That ended when I brought in a bunch of recent purchases to listen to one morning. They included an indi band from Toronto, called Feel, formerly known as Russian Blue. The sound was vital, and the early 90s buzz was that Toronto was going to be the next Seattle. I was all over these bands, like Slash Puppet, Russian Blue, Attitude (later Jesus Chris), Gypsy Jayne, and the rest.
[An aside: I caught a little flak when I took in a used copy of Slash Puppet. “This is an indi band,” the boss complained. “It’ll sell,” I defended myself. “Trust me I know this band.” I knew half a dozen customers by name that I could recommend it to. I sold it to the first of those guys to come in, this insurance guy named Tony who loved 80s rock. He bought it after one listen.]
The day I had my personal Feel This CD in the store player, a customer noticed it. He thought it was cool, wanted it, and asked how much. I had to tell him it was my own personal copy, and no I couldn’t order it in because it was an indi band. He would have to write to the band to get a copy, and I wrote down the information inside the CD for him.
The boss thought this was kind of a silly situation, and rightfully so. Why play music we weren’t selling and were not able to sell? This was a store. So that ended. No more bringing music from home. I guess I’m the guy who ruined it for generations of Record Store employees to come.
SULTANS OF PING F.C. – Casual Sex in the Cineplex(Originally 1993, 2018 Cherry Red expanded edition)
What an odd situation, when an extremely obscure album you spent years and years hunting for is reissued in a 2 CD deluxe expanded edition, and is sitting there in stock on the Canadian Amazon store. 17 bonus tracks (16 of which I’ve never heard before in my life) now sit alongside the core 12 album classics in my collection. The world is a better place for it.
We reviewed Casual Sex in the Cineplex by the Sultans of Ping F.C. back in 2013, but it deserves another look now that it’s been expanded.
Casual Sex boasts a fun but snearing punky side, accompanied by hilarious shrieky lead vocals and lyrics to match. Top this confection with an Irish accent and loud guitars! Opener “Back in the Tracksuit” is a perfect example of this recipe: a blast of punk guitars & drums with the bizarrely catchy lead vocals of Niall O’Flaherty. Half the time, we couldn’t figure out what he was singing. “Indeed You Are” sounds like he’s singing “Konichiwa!” So that’s the way we sing it.
The relaxed poppier songs are just as good. “Veronica” is a cute serenade with strings and harmonica. Perhaps it’s inspired by early period Beatles, filtered through the Sultans’ own bedraggled lenses. “2 Pints of Rasa” is in a similar spirit: a stroll through the park on a sunny Saturday afternoon “drinking with the guys”…and with strings! In the lyrics, O’Flaherty proclaims to his girl of interest, “but I still like you, you are my ice cream.” Write that one down for the next time you’re with your significant others.
A broadside shot of breakneck guitars kick off “Stupid Kid”. The infectious chorus goes on for days. “You’re stupid, S-T-U-P-I-D kid!” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more entertaining combination of snark and melody. “Stupid Kid” is among the best tunes on the album. “You Talk Too Much” is its twin brother, shrieks and surf-rock drums notwithstanding.
A rollicky bass intro kicks off “Give Him a Ball (And a Yard of Grass)”, and the body surfing begins! You can’t hear what O’Flaherty is singing for most of it, but it hardly matters. You can sing along as if you do, and nobody will notice. The party has only one lull: “Karaoke Queen” is OK, a little slack, but it is quickly followed by “Let’s Go Shopping”. It’s another one of those sentimental Sultans numbers about, well, going shopping. We always found the jubilant lyrics quite mirthful:
Put on your flip-flops and we’ll go shopping, dear
Put on your flip-flops, we’ll go flip-flopping, dear
You can buy crisps and I can buy jam,
You push the trolley, I’ll push the pram.
The sentiment stops there, since the next song is entitled “Kick Me With Your Leather Boots”! That means you can count on brisk, boisterous shenanigans. As a bonus, the lyrics planted the seed for me to seek out Schaffner’s bizarre conspiracy movie The Boys From Brazil. “Clitus Clarke” approaches being skip-worthy, but who cares since the final song is our favourite, “Where’s Me Jumper?”
My brother knows Karl Marx He met him eating mushrooms in the public park He said ‘What do you think of my manifesto?’ I like your manifesto, put it to the testo.
This album would be worth buying just for the one song. “Dancing at the Disco, bumper to bumper,” but then disaster! “Wait a minute — where’s me jumper?!” Niall goes on to complain that “It’s alright to say things can only get better. You haven’t lost your brand new sweater.” True, true. “My mother will be so, so angry.” But it’s impossible not to grin ear to ear like a gleeful hooligan by the end of it.
For years the original 12 tracks were all we had. Later Sultans albums could be found in the wild, but T-Rev always said the fun wasn’t there. He even found the single for “You Talk Too Much” which had “Japanese Girls” on the B-side. Nothing to him was as essential as the first album, which is easy to listen to end-to-end and then do all over again. Which is usually the way we listened to it.
How does adding 17 rarities change the listening experience?
Not badly, as it turns out. The bonus CD is only a punky 42 minutes long so it never becomes an exercise in testing patience. Seeing that information about this band is scarce already, it’s impossible to know how “complete” the bonus CD is with rarities. It seems to compile Sultans EP and single B-sides from 1991 to 1993. Other Sultans deluxe editions are out there comprising the later albums.
None of the bonus tracks are as indispensable as disc one, but that’s not the point. A blast of a time will still be had, with more of the same sound that endeared us to the band in the first place. There’s an early version of “Stupid Kid” from a 1991 EP, and a live recording of “Indeed You Are” from a 1993 EP called Teenage Punks. “Miracles” (from 1991) adds a hint of the Ramones to the stew. B-side “I Said I Am I Said” is fun like the album and makes a fine addition. Check out “Robo Cop”, and the live track “Football Hooligan” for a couple more songs that are hard to resist. Some, like “Turnip Fish” are just weird and more like early Alice Cooper.
Great to have more early Sultans, all in one place. Get yours.
1989: A clean and sober Motley Crue take over the world. Dr. Feelgood climbs to #1 and the band rivals Bon Jovi and Def Leppard in the popularity stakes.
1990: Motley continue to tour and rock them all, while announcing their next album will be a “greatest hits”.
1991:Decade of Decadence is released, keeping Motley on the charts. The new single “Primal Scream” is well received.
1992: In a shock announcement, Vince Neil is fired from the band. Unfortunately Motley are not the only rock band to lose their singer at the beginning of the 90s.
1993: Vince Neil’s solo debut Exposed is greeted by warm reviews. Motley continue to toil in the studio with new singer John Corabi.
1994: Five years after Dr. Feelgood, the re-imagined Motley finally return with the self-titled Motley Crue. Corabi blows ’em away, but the album fails to sell. Motley is forced to do a scaled down tour while the CD dropped off the charts.
This was the state of the Crue in the mid 90s. They had released an incredible album. Today, many fans rate it in the top three, or even at the #1 spot. My near-legendary Record Store cohort T-Rev agrees. “To me, they sounded more like a hard rock band than a hair metal band, because of that album.”
Absolutely true. They stepped far beyond the preconceived notions of Motley Crue. Guitars were detuned, lyrics were topical or personal. Tracks like “Smoke the Sky” might have passed for Soundgarden. On the other side of the coin, “Misunderstood” was an epic power ballad featuring an orchestra and Glenn fucking Hughes. There wasn’t a weak track in the bunch, but plenty of variety.
Most fans didn’t embrace it at the time, and instead moved on to current bands. Back then, nobody was interested. No Vince, no Motley? No way. Corabi was absolutely the right guy at the right time. Motley added his rhythm guitars and songwriting abilities, not to mention far more aggressive singing. The band had only gotten better. But by recording an uncompromising album with an unknown singer, they were indeed taking a chance. It didn’t pay off. When I was working at the Record Store, there was a giant pile of unsold Motley Crue CDs taking up space. They sat next to an equally tall pile of David Lee Roth’s Your Filthy Little Mouth. All the kings seemed to have been usurped.
At the Record Store, I first befriended the aforementioned T-Rev. The fact that both of us loved the Motley album didn’t hurt. T-Rev was the only person I knew who appreciated what they did. He loved that huge overproduced drum sound. Back in 1989, everybody had a Motley Crue T-shirt in the highschool halls. In 1994, we couldn’t get anyone to listen.
Through 1995 and 1996, magazines reported that Motley were back in the studio, working on a followup with Corabi. Bob Rock was back in the producer’s chair and the band wrote new songs such as “Personality #9”, “Let Us Prey”, “La Dolce Vita” and “The Year I Lived In A Day”. Things seemed to be going well, but record company pressure was intense. Bob Rock’s style was now passé and he was fired. Engineer Scott Humphrey was promoted to producer, and electronics began to dominate.
The pressure was not only on Motley Crue, but focused directly on John Corabi. Elektra records were eager to get Vince Neil back, a true “star”. John was getting frustrated in the studio while this was going on. Nothing he sang seemed to be good enough for Motley Crue anymore. He was asked to sing like Oasis or the Sisters of Mercy. John suggested that he just play rhythm guitar while they get Vince Neil to sing. Somehow, this made its way into the rumour mill. Before John Corabi was eventually fired, T-Rev and I had heard that Motley were considering this very same five-piece lineup. What a glorious sounding thing that could have been.
Ultimately the band fired John and got Vince back. They attempted to piece together the album that they’d been recording and re-recording and re-re-recording again. Mick Mars was frustrated as well, as his guitar parts kept getting rejected and remixed. In particular, Mars did not function well with Scott Humphrey.
Personally speaking, I lay these problems at the hands of Scott Humphrey. I read the book The Dirt, and that’s certainly where the band lay most of the blame. Have a look at Humphrey’s credits though. Lots of records loaded with electronics, like Rob Zombie’s Hellbilly Deluxe and Tommy Lee’s solo stuff. Humphrey started out as a keyboard player and programmer, and I think that high-tech style does not work with Motley Crue. That’s my personal opinion, never having met Scott Humphrey. I did, however, have a customer at the Record Store who knew Scott Humphrey, who is actually from Kitchener Ontario.* “Motley Crue were the problem,” he told me. “They were messed up on drugs.” They were also unfocused musically.
On January 27 1997, the reunited original Motley Crue performed on the American Music Awards. Mere months after being teased by a similar Van Halen reunion on the MTV Awards, I was relieved that Motley were playing a song rather than just standing there. But what the hell song was it?! Some strange, techno-y version of “Shout at the Devil”? It was strange, unexpected and underwhelming. Hey, cool, it was a fresh spin on an old classic. But…why?
We soon found out. The album Generation Swine came out on June 24 1997. As usual, T-Rev and I got it a few days in advance. “It sucks!” he warned me. Of the first single “Afraid”, he said “It sounds more like Def Leppard than Motley Crue.”
“Afraid” is the best song on the album, which does frankly suck. In a single stroke Motley went from one of their best albums, to one of their very worst. It was astounding how desperate they sounded, trying to incorporate these influences that have nothing to do with Motley Crue. The loops and samples and effects ruined many of the songs, but some just weren’t that good to begin with. This considered, it was an even bigger surprise that Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee were singing lead vocals too. Sixx’s silly opener “Find Myself” was a nauseating faux-punk novelty song. Generation Swine was also unfocused in the extreme, and the muddying effects didn’t help. The electronic treatments on the drums rendered them limp, compared to the massive sound of 94’s Motley Crue. Absolutely everything on Generation Swine was inferior to Motley Crue.
Three CD singles were released for “Afraid”, which was remixed so many times trying to get it right, that they used some of the various versions as bonus tracks. The album version is fine enough, and in this one instance, the electronics enhance the song. I’d rather hear “Afraid” with the effects than without.
What did other fans think? When Generation Swine was new, one of my customers wanted to hear it before buying. “I saw that Vince Neil is back. Have you heard it?” he asked me, and I told him the truth. He was sceptical of my review, but changed his mind upon hearing it. “It doesn’t sound like them,” he said, and he’s right. I then cajoled him into listening to the 1994 album. He didn’t want to, because it didn’t have Vince Neil, but agreed to give it a shot.
Guess which album he bought? Motley ’94.
At least there’s some redemption, if only temporarily. During the Christmas season of 1998, T-Rev once again called me up to tell me about Motley Crue. There was a new compilation out, called Greate$t Hit$ [review coming tomorrow]. This time, there were two new songs: “Enslaved” and “Bitter Pill”. Both were produced by Bob Rock.
“The new songs aren’t bad,” said T-Rev. “A lot better than Generation Swine. Not as good as ‘Primal Scream'”
Right again, T-Rev. Not bad. An improvement, but not as good as what they did the first time out. That was enough for me to buy the CD. Not for Trevor, though.
I think Motley Crue were on the right track with “Enslaved” and “Bitter Pill” after the failure of Generation Swine. They obviously knew that album didn’t work, so they went back to the last thing that did. Both songs are growers, and still raise a smile to hear. Unfortunately Motley Crue blew it again. Tommy Lee and Vince Neil had a dust-up at an airport, and Lee split. He was replaced by former Ozzy Osbourne drummer, Randy Castillo.**
Fans like T-Rev and myself always supported the 1994 album, and today we’ve been justified. More and more fans have realised the quality of that CD, and increasingly hold it in high esteem. There’s something about that CD, and I’m afraid that Motley Crue never came close to touching it since.
Tommy Lee, John Corabi, Nikki Sixx & Mick Mars
* Fun fact! T-Rev’s mom dated Scott Humphrey!
** In a very sad turn of events, Castillo never got to tour with Motley Crue. He became ill and died of cancer on March 26, 2002 at age 51. His replacement, Hole’s Samantha Maloney, did the tour and resultant live video.
GETTING MORE TALE #437: So You Want to Make a Mix Tape?
So you’ve decided to hop into your time machine and make a mix tape? Good for you! In the 80’s, making a mix tape was a rite of passage. Today it is a fading art. Congratulations for wanting to keep that art alive! Here are some tips.
First of all, who are you making the tape for? What do you want on it? Prep all your recording materials in advance. Get out the CDs and records you want to tape. Are you doing a straight hits tape? A mixture of artists? Roughly plot out your track list, but only roughly, because you will probably have to make changes on the fly.
Get your tape ready. What length are you using? I recommend 90 – 100 minute tapes. Anything longer than 100 minutes and you risk stretching the tape. This length range gives you more room to play with than a standard 60 minute tape.
Clean your equipment. Get your tape head demagnetized, and clean those pinch rollers with isopropyl alcohol or something similar. Use lint-free cloth. Since you’re making a mix tape, I assume you want it to sound as good as you can make it. Use a decent quality blank tape.
Now, using a pencil or just your finger, carefully wind the tape so that the clear tape lead is no longer visible. When you see brown magnetic tape, you are ready to hit “record”.
I used to add the little test frequencies that they put on the start of cassettes to open my mix tapes. Don’t have one of those? That’s OK. Just download one from Youtube!
My recording technique involved having as short a gap between songs as possible. I viewed a long gap as an amateur move, unless it was intentional, for effect. To get a short gap, hit “pause” on your recorder immediately after the song stops, but don’t pause for too long. Leaving that pause button depressed isn’t good for the tape, because on most machines, the tape head is still making contact with the recording tape. Still, it’s better than hitting “stop” which tends to leave an annoying clunky sound between songs.
Now, the one irritating thing that amateur tapers do is let a song be cut off at the end of a side. Don’t do that! It’s very difficult to get exactly a side of music, so leave some space after the last song. In fact, I suggest having a bunch of “standby” short tracks handy, to fill up any undesired blank space. It’s also fun to end a side with a brief movie quote or skit. It’s up to you, how you decide to end a side, but don’t cut a song off. That’s annoying! You may have to improvise, select some shorter songs, and re-do some things, but cutting off a song is just a rookie mistake. You will have to be flexible with your track list when it comes to where the sides end. Tape speed is anything but consistent, so even if you’ve clocked your side at exactly 45 minutes, if your tape is running fast then you’ll be out of space.
The beauty of cassette is the opportunity to use the two sides to your advantage. Each side can be its own journey, with opening and closing tracks. Yet it’s still part of a whole. Perhaps you’d like to make a Led Zeppelin hits tape. Why not make side one all electric, and side two acoustic? You can have a killer electric opening for side one (“Good Times Bad Times” perhaps), and close it with a corker too (like “Kashmir”). Then you can kick off side two with an acoustic opener, such as “Gallows Pole” and end it with “Stairway”. The possibilities are endless, but the ability to create distinct sides is so much fun.
Finally, write those songs down on the J-card, or make some custom cover art. If you’re artistically inclined, the cover art can be the most fun.
Making a mix tape is a time consuming process since you need to do it in real time. It can also be a taxing job, if you’re a perfectionist trying to make your mix tape flawless. The main thing is keeping it fun. Have a good time with it!
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