I wrote this in 2003 for the “Alive In The 90s” DVD. But I decided it was too much of a downer, and besides, it hardly talked about the DVD at all. So I shelved it and started again from scratch. But I still like this piece. It’s got lots of good info and offers a reasonable perceptive persective on our major label days, dark though it may be.
January 1990 found the Meat Puppets in a definite career slump. Though our long deteriorating relationship with SST Records had finally collapsed under the weight of mutual acrimony, we had no clear path to the next level. We’d had no luck in landing a deal with a major record label, despite years of trying. In fact, only one company, Atlantic Records, had shown any real interest in signing us. Those talks had stalled, however, when our contact at the label quit to move back home to Azerbaijan after the collapse of the Soviet Union. We couldn’t help be feel discouraged and a little desperate. We’d just celebrated our tenth anniversary and we had no money, few prospects, and the gnawing fear that we just might have reached the end of the line.
But a couple weeks later, we got a call from another executive at Atlantic who invited Curt to meet with him in New York. There, over a shared piece of chocolate cake, he revealed his plans to head up the newly activated US division of London Records for the Polygram Label Group. While he assured Curt of a contract, he also warned that it would be at least six months before his plans were in place. We spent that spring and summer playing locally, borrowing money from friends, anything to keep from going broke. Finally, we finally got a massive stack of legal documents in the mail. The contract was the kind of standard agreement new bands always get. That is to say, it was grossly inequitable.
Nevertheless, we signed it in good faith, and in equally good faith we began sending the label 8-track demos of our newest material. Soon enough, we learned just how hard our devil-may-care D.I.Y. ethic would break upon the rocks of real-world corporate practice. It quickly became apparent that to get taken seriously, and to garner any kind of meaningful promotional budget, we needed not only a hit single but also a hit producer. Abortive attempts to produce ourselves had been received with something somewhat less than enthusiasm. We finally agreed upon Pete Anderson, a country producer who’d seen success with Michelle Shocked and Dwight Yokum.
The sessions with Pete took place in Los Angeles, and went quite smoothly enough, for me anyway. I recorded my basic tracks, click-track accompanied of course, in two days. Afterwards, fishing for permission to return back home, Pete told me that it was case of mind over matter. He didn’t mind, because I no longer mattered. We all had a good laugh over that one, then it was Curt’s turn to get the “producer†treatment. He was induced to sing his parts over and over and over again. Pete then used a sampler to stitch together complete vocal tracks from the various takes, modulating the pitch of each syllable to attain an in-tune performance. For Curt, the whole experience was humiliating.
The finished project, “Forbidden Places,†was as clean and professional a record as we’d ever made, even sterile to some, reflecting Pete Anderson’s tastes as much as our own. The album displayed a marked “country†flavor, which Polygram calculated was the best way to market us. Ironically, just down the street, Geffen Records and Nirvana were all set to usher in the “grunge†era, thus rendering our “country†approach commercially obsolete. In the process, they created a juggernaut that would eventually pull us, and practically every one of our “indie†counterparts, along in its wake.
But that was still in the future. For the time being, we had more mundane details to contend with. The time had come, we were informed, to discard a decade of self-management and hire outside representation. We quickly met with a half dozen different management firms, spending in the process more on plane fare and power dinners than we’d earned in our entire career up to that point. And when we finally chose one, we received another “standard issue†contract in the mail.
We spent the rest of 1991 and the spring of 1992 doing all the things bands are supposed to do: we made a video, bought touring vehicles, hired a tour manager and toured our butts off. But all this did little to dampen an opinion that we became painfully aware of: our record label thought we were shit as a live act. Not that we helped matters any. While “Forbidden Places†was a not unpleasant showcase of our various styles of writing and playing – a little hardcore, a little classic rock, a little funk, a little country, a little fusion, you know the drill – we made no attempt to duplicate it on stage. We refused to stick to what we’d rehearsed, playing songs we didn’t actually know and driving audiences away with interminable encores of earsplitting noise. We played too many notes, too fast, too loud and too long. In other words, we rocked out as hard as we could.
We had always thought this was the best way to go; apparently, we were mistaken. As far as our label and our manager were concerned, this was not a party; this was business. And before we knew it, plans for our next album became hopelessly bogged down. We were told we couldn’t sing, we couldn’t play, we weren’t pretty enough, our songs weren’t “radio ready†and we didn’t know what was best for our own careers. In an act of good faith desperation, Curt enrolled in a series of sessions with a vocal coach and I signed up for some drum lessons. (Both actually helped us, but that’s beside the point.)
Eventually, we arrived at a compromise. We would enlist our old friend Paul Leary of the Butthole Surfers to a produce a session in Memphis with an eye towards releasing an “unplugged†EP on one of London’s smaller affiliate labels. We accepted this galling solution, calculating that if the label liked the recordings, they’d agree to scrap the EP idea and green light us for a full-length Leary-produced album. In the end, this is exactly what happened, thanks not only to the delightful sessions we had with Paul, but also to the appearance of a little song called “Backwater.†Curt didn’t consider it one of his better efforts, but the label grudgingly anointed it as an acceptable single.
Thusly, in the summer of 1993,“Too High To Die†was granted life. And all of a sudden, people were talking about us, “Backwater†was on everybody’s buzz list and independent promoters were working on our behalf. It was almost as if somebody somewhere had called in a favor. Then we lucked into a guest appearance on Nirvana’s “Unplugged†special for MTV. We were on tour with Nirvana the week prior to the taping of the special, and Kurt Cobain had asked the Kirkwoods to teach him a couple of tunes from our 1984 album “Meat Puppets II.†But Cobain was under a great deal of pressure and there had never been enough time to sit down and learn the songs, so Cris and Curt offered to come on the show to provide the accompaniment themselves. Always a great booster of his favorite bands, as well as a great believer in safety in numbers, Cobain agreed (much to the chagrin of MTV, by the way).
Armed with this little coup, we were nearly unstoppable. When “Too High To Die†was released in January of 1994, we were already out of the gate. We traveled non-stop, opening concerts for Blind Melon, Cracker and Soul Asylum and appearing at as many radio promotions and industry shindigs as we could. That summer, we spent ten weeks on tour with Stone Temple Pilots and Redd Kross. Meanwhile, “Backwater†continued its ascent, reaching the number two position on the alternative charts (beat out for number one by Collective Soul’s “Shineâ€) and even climbing as high as number 43 on the pop charts. Around this time, we also learned that “Too High To Die†was to be awarded a gold record, commemorating sales of more than half a million units.
The spring and summer of 1994 was the high watermark of our career. We played to massive crowds, achieved new heights as a live band, appeared on national television and rubbed shoulders with our fellow celebrities. We were in demand. By my calculation, we averaged at least one airplane ride a week for the entire year. Then Kurt Cobain died, and we had the distinctly dubious honor of appearing almost hourly on MTV, as they played and played and replayed the “Unplugged†special.
And in the end, of course, all the success took its toll on us. As the weeks went by and demand for us increased, we found ourselves continually whisked this way and that, back and forth across the country, constantly busy, constantly tired. And all the while, we piled up recoupable expenses for promotion and tour support at a rate of around fifty grand a month. When the dust settled, we were into Polygram for nearly a half a million dollars. That may not be a lot of money by any real measure of how the game is played, but it was enough to grease within us a growing feeling of uneasy unreality and an almost profound attitude of undeserved entitlement.
When work began on our next album early in 1995, it was plain how much the terrain had changed. We rehearsed perfunctorily, if at all, putting in as little face time with each other as possible. Recordings were conducted lackadaisically, and were received equally so by Polygram. Whereas previously they had micromanaged us incessantly, now their strategy seemed to be one of giving us as much rope as we needed in order to hang ourselves. Paul Leary was back in the producer’s chair for this go round, but for both Paul and us, the stakes had changed. We weren’t hungry this time out; no longer feeling we needed to prove ourselves, we acted instead like we deserved everything we’d gotten. Previous recording sessions always had their share of creative tension, but the “No Joke†sessions were marked by uneasy silences, no shows, sudden eruptions of rage and locked bathroom doors.
In the meantime, the “alternative†trend had pretty much played itself out. Many of the movement’s key players had burned out, died, or broken up their bands. Along the way, rebellious groups were replaced with more career-minded artists who could embrace aspects of the form while still ceding proper respect to their masters. When “No Joke†was finally released in the fall of 1995, it was almost a foregone conclusion that it would not do well. While there was plenty of great stuff on it, the album struck people as bloated, downbeat and self-conscious. Our previous records had been so lighthearted; this one seemed to take itself too seriously. Pronouncing our earlier success a fluke and citing poor sales, Polygram pulled the plug on their promotion plans. Curt in turn cancelled our tour plans and moved out of town. Cris and I found other things to do.
In the ensuing years, we made of show of having “not broken up.†Curt managed to convince Polygram to do another Meat Puppets album, albeit with him as the only remaining original member. But the label reverted to previous form, and in the end they rejected Curt’s album, forcing him to release it on an independent label. He did one tour with the new lineup before calling it quits. I concentrated on the band’s place in history, maintaining a Meat Puppets web site and working with Rykodisc to reissue the seven albums we recorded in the 80s for SST Records, along with a live album culled from my collection of board tapes. Then last year, when Cornerstone offered to a compilation of live video footage, I decided to use the opportunity to tell the next chapter of the story. Whereas the Rykodisc project was devoted to our work in the 80s, the live video would focus on the 90s.
I hit upon the idea of making the project a fan driven one. I enlisted the help of some die-hard Meathead tapers whom had followed us around with their cameras over the years, and they came through with flying colors. One of them sent us terrific footage I had never seen before of a concert broadcast on Italian television. Another had a copy of what turned out to be the very first acoustic show we ever did. Another had all this great backstage footage from the summer ‘94 tour. Since it was impossible for me to be objective about the material, I let the filmmakers at Cornerstone choose what tracks to include. I figured this would fit in well with the concept of it being a fan-based project and it would free me from the kind of second-guessing criticism that I received over the live Rykodisc album!
Watching this old footage, I’m struck by how many conflicting feelings I have about those years. On the one hand, we never actually reached the goals we set for ourselves, both professionally or artistically. We were cavalier in our approach to business as well as music, and let too much slip between the cracks. On the other hand, as cockeyed and off-balance as we were, we still had something special, a unique perspective as impossible to duplicate as it is to describe. Under different circumstances, we might have gotten a better chance to find the balance we were looking for. But in the end, we did what we did, and despite the disappointments, we had a great time doing it.
Derrick- I appreciate what you have been doing on this site. I hadn’t heard of the MP’s until the winter of 1991. I listened to mostly radio crap in the 80′s and then finally was turned on to “live” music in the winter of 1990 in my current hometown (then and now) of Minneapolis.
I saw the MP’s for the first time at the Silver Dollar(?) in the spring of 1992. I believe the Diamondback’s baseball field was built over it. Lets just say I throughly enjoyed it.
As I was reading your current post I couldn’t help but remember a couple of shows at the Mason Jar in 1993 and 1994. I recall one in which there couldn’t have been more than 50 people at the show, with me literally standing on the side of the stage, rocking my balls off, and being completely baffled as to why this amazing band was playing here, with no one in attendence. I’m not trying to stroke the ego, I’am just being honest. I have to say that having space to rock is my preference, but I also wanted you guys to gain some kind of success. I am very happy that I spent a lot of time in Phoenix in the early and mid 90′s. You guys were a part of that joy, along with all the friends I made in the fast growing valley.
I am dissappointed that you will not be a part of the next MP’s project. I do, though, understand. From reading your stuff, to comprehending that life is truly short, to knowing that you have to do what is in your heart. Blah, Blah, Blah. I ramble, I get teary-eyed, but the great thing about music; I can listen to it whenever I want for as long as I want. CAN’T TOUCH THIS!!!
Keep the stuff coming. I love history, and all of history is relevant no matter how stoned one may have been. Thanks, Derrick.
Left by jim card on May 4th, 2006
Yep; The Silver Dollar was a cool place. Now there’s another club down in that area, The Brickhouse. Cool old building — large room, dreadful sound system. Lots of homeless greeters in the parking lot.
Thanks for the kind words. I haven’t played the drums more than once or twice in the last ten years; I’ve got a whole different career now. I’m sure The Blue Man will serve you all quite admirably!
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 4th, 2006
Since we’re on the topic of “Alive in the Nineties.” How come “Lost” wasn’t included in the Knitting Factory segment when it is listed in the booklet?
Left by Henry on May 4th, 2006
Probably for the same reason planes crash and folks die on the operating table: God’s will.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 4th, 2006
And the dead people will all be thinking: “What a rip off!”
Left by Henry on May 4th, 2006
So that pretty much sums up the Puppets in the 90′s and all the fun that comes with age and success, I suppose. This stuff is great Derrick. A couple comments on the live stuff. I find it hard to believe that the lable hated the live show. I personally couldn’t get enough. 3 in particular stand out, although I think I saw the Pups about 10-12 times, mostly in LA. First time was killer, John Anson Ford Theater with Firehose opening. Firehose got shut down due to complaints from the Hollywood Bowl, then Thelonius Monster did an impromptu acoustic set, and then finally the Puppets hit the stage. The sound cut out on the first song, Cris mooned the soundman, Curt rambled “I’d show you my butt too if I had one” and then the sound came back on and the Puppets tore the crap out of this great outdoor venue for 2.5 hours.
Next was at some dump in Montclaire known as the Greendoor. I think the Puppets were opening for the Chil Peppers the next night. Anyways, they only played like an hour, no encore, but the set was unbelievable. Featured Charles in Charge cover, and then finished with this crazy noise thing where Cris played his Bass with another Bass like a violin, and the whole thing sounded like a train. I was completely out of my head on stuff that night, and it was sweet.
Then again in the 90′s, in between Places and Too High, they did a 3 show set at McCabes, which is a guitar shop in Santa Monica, and pretty damn cool place to see shows. It was the Saturday night show that was most killer. Curt began by saying that any of you people who showed up again because they thought that they weren’t just going to play the same warmed over crap they had already played in the previous shows were screwed, and then they went on to play no songs whatsoever form the previous shows, save maybe lake of Fire. Dez Cadena and Spot played with them, including rowsing rendiditions of Beer Drinkers/Hell Raisers, Dear Prudence, and then no more Puppets songs at all. Ended with Curt playing drums with socks (for like the last 20 minutes) and what I swear was a killer Flipper cover, even though I can’t trace it. The lyrics were something like “No apples, No oranges” and then rambling screaming. This was probably the best I ever saw the Pups.
So there. Even with the corporate beast that is rock, the Pups still found a way to blow minds.
Keep this great stuff coming Derrick!
Left by Rob on May 4th, 2006
1. The Anson Ford show had its sound cut because we had broken coventant with the Hollywood Bowl, who told us not to start until Mel Torm was finished. Instead, we ruined his Big Finish. sound was restored after he was all done.
2. The bass noise jam and 20 minutes of playing with socks — THAT’S the stuff the label hated. They strongly frowned upon us playing the extra 45 minute nosie encores.
3. the Flipper song is off their first album. It’s called “No Tears Wasted.”
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 4th, 2006
As “commercial” as you think “Forbidden Places” was, it was far less commercial than 98% of albums out today. How can you go wrong with tracks like “Open Wide”, “Whirlpool”, and “Nail it Down”? The hard guitar riffs and comical lyrics are still there.
BTW, “Alive in the 90s” was great.
Left by Todd Thurman on May 4th, 2006
Hey Derrick,
great work on giving us the inside perspective of the band……keep feeding it to us! 2 questions…..
1.) do you have any demo recordings for ‘too high to die’…like the ones you had for ‘no joke’ which you posted,.. i saw curt play ‘never to be found’ acoustic in boston last year and my eyes almost dried out from not blinking while he played it.
2.) since you probably have more meat pups’ footage hanging around,…why dont you put out another DVD…or a low key cd with rykodisk videos on it for the fans??
keep up the good work, you guys’ work makes the drawing and painting i do much more alive.
Left by keith meat mountain on May 4th, 2006
1. We did some great demos for “Too High To Die.” It wouldn’t be much of a strain to imagine them winding up here at some poin in the future.
2. I suppose anything’s possible. Perhaps one day, a perfect storm of time, ambition and energy, interest and opportunity will coalesce around such an idea.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 4th, 2006
That’s an interesting take on the fall-out. As you know, after 1986 I saw you guys only a few times.
The last time was on Too High tour. Fairfax High and The Roxy. These were very strange gigs for me. So much time had passed, and yet here were the same band that recorded my beloved H Eleanor (Keats Rides A Harley) on stage in front of a thousand 14 year old girls, all treating ol’ Curt like he was Mick Jagger!
And those terrible label assholes telling each of you where to go, when and how.
Cris had become someone I didn’t even recognize as being the same guy. He had become very angry, bitter and hostile. It wasn’t hard to figure out why (same as the old days, but far worse), yet he hurt me deeply with some REALLY unkind words. At the end of the night he called me aside and apologized like mad, but it was clear he was losing control.
You were as always a TON of fun to hang out with, but even you were having severe problems personally with Curt. At The Roxy, I was on stage by Curt’s amp when you played something that displeased him greatly, causing him to whirl around mid-set and threaten to kill you. I was quite happy it was off mic, but I can always hear the moment on the tape Dean gave me of the night.
Curt seemed terribly distant from EVERYONE. He seemed to me to be terribly depressed. NONE of you guys were laughing anymore. It was bitterly sad to see.
One thing I recognized in the 1990′s Pups was ALL those covers that you guys had played through the years had FINALLY melded their way into YOUR music. Too High was a superb LP, exceptionally well produced, and sadly the obvious end.
This was also the tour with the second guitarist. I forget his name off-hand, but he was excellent and could have been a vital addition to the band, but nobody ever heard him! Davo never had him in the mix at all.
Not to slam Davo either. By the end he had you guys sounding as huge and overpowering as Led Zep. He even made YOU sound HEAVY!
It was so strange to hear the band sound bigger and better than ever, and yet feel like it was all about to crumble. I remember telling Dezo to see you guys as much as possible, because I honestly didn’t think there would still be a Pups in a years time. I was right…
I know I’m too mushy for ya’, but your band was very important to me, and you KNOW that. Still is.
As always, fine writing Bostrom!
Tom
Left by Tom Troccoli on May 5th, 2006
Thanks for the memories, TT!
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 5th, 2006
Wow!
I want “too high to die” demos ^^
please!
^^
Left by Miminette on May 5th, 2006
thats well put together.
i had no idea that you had such a morose view of some of the later stuff though. personally, no joke and meat puppets are my faves.
keep writing!
Left by charlie on May 6th, 2006
I could offer an equally jaundiced view of the early albums too. Conversely, I could gush about all of them. My point is this: it’s not particularly significant to say “Meat Puppets RAWK!” But historically speaking, we took place in an important part of recent American musical history. It’s useful to know what happens when art and commerce collide. Our experieinces are fairly typical of bands like us who got swept up in the whole major label cash-in and shut-down of the indie scene. This isn’t to take away from our efforts, any more than one would criticize striking workers who were unable to withstand the damage of police bullets one hundred years ago.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 6th, 2006
To help illustrate Bostrom’s point a bit further. There was a band here In LA . Like ‘em or not, they were the first of the LA Punk bands to be signed to a major label from an indie. The first 2 LPs came out on what was then the indie label SLASH Records. Elektra (owned by Warner Brothers) saw the band sell out LA’s Greek theater with ZERO airplay. They not only bought the band, to avoid any bothersome trouble with Slash records, they simply bought the entire label and fired every band but one.
This was an old tactic for Warner Brothers. In the mid-70′s, they wanted to make a Superman movie. They contacted National Periodaicals (DC Comics) about licsensing the rights, found out DC wanted 5 Million bucks. Warner’s lawyers and accountants went to work and found out the entire company was worth only about 2 and a half million. Instead of licsensing, they simply bought (and still own) the company.
Like The Pups, Elektra had no REAL idea what to with the band or their music, so they pretty much allowed them free reign on their first LP for the label. The record started to generate a little heat, so Elektra and Warner Brothers started to take notice. This resulted in the label spending a TON of dough on the follow up. Now what most people don’t know is that when a label puts out a record, the band PAYS for it. Every cent. Your advance, recprding costs, mixing, mastering, art, manufacture, videos, promotion, every single cent is billed to THE BAND! That way even with a million seller, a band could STILL wind up in debt. This works to the label’s advantage as you can well imagine.
In the case of the band I am referring to, the next LP did NOT do as well as Elektra anticipated. as a result Elektra took more of a ‘hands-on’ approach. They fired the band’s producer, and rejected the NEXT LP THREE TIMES! That meant the band was CHARGED for recording the LP THREE TIMES. You have any idea how many copies you would need to sell just to recoup recording expenses?
On top of that, one member confided in me that many instrumental tracks were no longer being played by the band, as the label was bringing in ‘professional musicians ‘ to make the sound more palatable. This caused one original founder member to leave the band for close to 10 years.
So what happens is the next LP with all its sanitized sound now repels the ORIGINAL fan base, it sounds lousy enough so no NEW fans are attracted, and the band is forever in debt up to their eyeballs.
It happens every day to bands all over the place.
It happened in ‘Punk’, it happened in ‘Hippie’, it happened in Rock and Roll, and will continue to happen.
I have no REAL knowledge of The Pups arrangements with London, but it wouldn’t surprise me if The Pups still owed London dough as well.
It’s simply an ugly business.
Bostrom has always been aware of the competeing intersecting lines of commerce and art. Bostrom has always had a very good head for business and what works. We used to discuss it for hours. I believe The Pups would have been far better served if Bostrom had been allowed more freedom as a STEERING member of the band, instead of the part of ‘the drummer’ he was later relegated to.
In the early days no one worked harder for the band than Bostrom. He was ALWAYS angling for attention for the band. He was also slightly saner than his fellow band members and less inclined towards self indulgence, as well as self destruction.
Curt wrote BEAUTIFUL stuff as did Cris, but the fact that 25 years on this blog exists and that anyone anywhere even still cares about things Meat Puppet is because of the work even AFTER the band dissolved Bostrom has put out.
The entire Ryko reissue series was assembled by Bostrom single handedly at home.
Bostrom CARES.
Thanks Bostrom!
Tom
Left by Tom Troccoli on May 6th, 2006
Yow — looks like somebody’s got my back!
You tell ‘em Tom! I have nothing to add to that. You’ve said it all.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 6th, 2006
Yeah, its a shame derrick isn’t in the new pups lineout. i fear it wont be the same.
i was watching alive in nineties this morning and i wanna know what the song is that is played with the slide show?
sure derrick will know
Left by nigel quest on May 6th, 2006
It’s called “We’re On,” and it’s from the “Too High To Die” sessions.
You should find it in the DVD credits somewhere on the booklet.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 6th, 2006
k thanks man
keep up the good work
Left by nigel quest on May 6th, 2006
thanks for the response.
and i do understand, and i really do see what you went through.
ive read many-a-book on the punk explosion and it’s horrid aftermath. but forsome reason, the meat puppets always struck me as a band that didnt care. they didnt care what you called them, or what logo or trend you slapped on them, they just played what they felt like and they didnt care. when ilisten to the MPs i see, or more so, hear, a band that just got up and made music. not punk not rock, not country not bluegrass, just music. and i respect that so much. so i guess i kind of had this little buble in my head around you guys kind of saying to myself that you were just fun loving guys who didnt care about tommorow, you just wanted to smile with your friends and family today.
i knew about the drug issue and how it became worse and worse… but for some reason i always had you guys in this just happy as hell band catagory… it’s just sad to hear of the struggles. but theyare just as true and important as the joys, i guess.
Left by charlie on May 6th, 2006
yeah…and for all this enthusiasm about the Kirkwoods reunited as “Meat Puppets” again, I just think be careful what you have wished for, ye Meatheads…and what are you all gonna finally say to yourselves when you see that it just kinda sucks…Meat Puppets are gone, long live the Meat Puppets…
Left by Arnold Blumper on May 7th, 2006
hi,
I hope to see the “new” meat puppets in France this year…
regards
samuel
Left by samuel on May 7th, 2006
This notion that musicians “love what they do” is thinly-veiled hype along the lines of “pure driving satisfaction” and “cigarettes get you laid.” Why would anyone want to take their role playing escapist fantasy to a band that bitched about it all the time? Fact is, most people get into bands because they’re too fucked up to hold down any other job.
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 7th, 2006
Bostrom again is correct, but since he is far more gentile than I, we also got into bands because we were NERDS and couldn’t figure out any other way of getting laid.
No offence Bostrom, but we ARE nerds, Ginn, Dukowski, Curt, Cris, Watt, Boon, Brewer, ALL us SST’ers were (are) nerds.
You once described a bands output as being a direct response to the insecurities and psychological bent (from time to time dementia) of its membership. Of course you were (are) correct.
Beefheart once said ‘A little paranoia is great propeller.’ I say a little insecurity helps.
If rolling around in broken down vans in sub-freezing weather and eating horrible food while sleeping on drafty cold junkies basement floors for 10 bucks a day is your idea of fun, then yeah, being in a band is fun.
Truth is the only fun we had was the fun we made for ourselves.
I’ve said it before on this page, and I’ll say it again. It’s an ugly business.
Tom
Left by Tom Troccoli on May 7th, 2006
Besides, where’s the glory in excelling something that’s EASY?
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 7th, 2006
The stories of end of gig mayhem reminded me of one of my favorite Puppet shows. It was the “Forbidden Places” tour in Athens Ga at the new big 40 Watt Club. This may have even been the first big show there. They came out blazing, absolutely tearing it up. Everyone in the place seemed to be knocked back by the force of the music, literally. I’d already seen them many times before and this was shaping up to be the best show I’d ever seen.
Unfortunately the new PA could not handle it and it cut out completely. As the soundmen worked frantically to fix the problem the Puppets tried to soldier on, playing instrumentals with their amps turned up. Maybe “Six Gallon Pie” or “Flight of the Fire Weasel,” those kinds of guitar solo pieces. After a few minutes they realized it wasn’t working (no drums!) and completely devolved into noise. Curt threw his Les Paul into the crowd, turned up his amp and went to work on his Morely echo pedal. You know the sound. Cris, of course, went crazy throwing his bass around and eventually smashing it on the ceiling, shattering the flourescent lights above the stage. At that point he gave up on the bass and shakily climbed his amps, ending up swinging from the stage lighting truss directly above our hero Derrick. Derrick had been pounding out a nice beat behind the noise, but at this point he saw Cris dangling above him and ran out front. Smart considering what happened to Curtis Mayfield. If I remember correctly Derrick then grabbed the guitar or operated the pedals, he continued to make a contribution at any rate. At some point a couple of streakers ran out, hugged the band and then dashed off. The crowd was screaming the whole time, completely caught up in the chaos.
Finally the club workers ushered the band off stage to deal with the problem. Cris came back out with a cooler from backstage and started to hand out the contents. Eventually the PA was restored to a semi functional state and the band came back out, playing a more standard set ending with an “I Wanna Be Your Dog” jam with the openers Scrawl onstage.
Not a bad way to usher in the start of the major label Puppets, at least for fans like us. I have incredible pictures of this show, including Cris caught at the moment he shattered the lights and handing out beer from the cooler. If anyone is intersted let me know, I could post them on flickr or something. Thanks for the work you do Derrick, it’s much appreciated.
Left by Kevin on May 7th, 2006
Attending that particular Athens show was famous actress, local celebrity and girlfriend of Batman, Kim Bassinger. She was also friends with one of the owners of the club, REM’s Pete Buck. I introduced myself to her before the gig and thanked her for coming. However, she was forced to flee the premisis in the ensuing mele. So not only did we manage to alienate this lovely woman, but we also trashed our friend Mr. Buck’s place of business.
Note to young bands just starting out: this is what we call “firing on all cylanders.”
Left by Derrick Bostrom on May 7th, 2006
Geez, I forgot all about that! She took off in a hurry, I was at the side of the stage (stage left) and saw her being ushered out like it was a terrorist attack.
Just so you don’t feel too bad, Pete’s ex wife Barry is now the sole owner of the club and she remembers that night fondly. And the PA works now.
Left by Kevin on May 7th, 2006
no, i am well aware that most bands dont love what they do, sometimes far from.
but i dont know.. i got this feeling from the old MP and even the new MP cds that you guys were truely having all the fun you could. it always felt like you guys were just smiling and singing songs avout people from africa in trees then throwing up in america… or even where one could find scum. but yeah i guess EVERY band hates what they do at one point…
Left by charlie on May 8th, 2006
I really love this site Derrick. Modern Rock History 101. The Meat Puppets are one of my all time favorite bands. I still listen to you guys on a daily basis. Thank you so much for documenting this time of your life.
Robin
Left by Robin/rpeacefuld on May 10th, 2006
Yeah, the industry sucks, but
a)You are not alone in your experiences; the list of bands this has happened to is too big to list
b)It was fun because you (we) were young! Its easy to have hindsight now – in fact, you’re SUPPOSED to be wiser now.. Luckily, you now have the wisdom AND the backlog of highly entertaining experiences.
Many of us artist-types chose a career and still ended up broke and starting over at some point. Utilitarian societies throughout history have always rewarded the non-artist brain/lifestyle yet what is every civilization in history known for in the long run?.
It true that Derrick was a hard-working trooper. I tried to catch the Pups everytime they came to town, particularly while in college. One time, I found about a show a week too late. Back then (c. 1985) I thought a rock star was a rock star; they all had tour busses and gigs were always promoted. Course, the Pups were just driving around in a van. I wrote the band asking for a tour sheet so I wouldn’t miss the next appearance. This ususally led to jack with SST bands and the like but I received a great letter back from D.B. (which I cherished) describing how I had missed a great show at the Eagles Hall and what the band was doing now. Derrick was also very cool and chatty at the shows.
Thanx, Derrick.
-JJ
Left by JJ on June 5th, 2006
just wanted to mention how much i loved youre version of zz tops heard it on the x saw you at the lawndale art anex in 85 or so you opened for black flag nig hiest was a no show that night but the roadies played in dragg curt had beautiful green hair dont get to many nights like that still think about the effort and energy i didnt deserve it but you gave me that anyway thanks
Left by rob on July 5th, 2006