When the 1970s gave way to the 1980s, there was a noticeable
change in the culture, the way people talked and the way they acted. There was
a new phony optimism and shallowness that I didn't have much use for. I might
have been living in the eighties but I didn't have to participate in it.
Everyone else might have been going new wave, but I was sticking to my good ol’
rock 'n' roll. Or so I thought.
I had some friends who were in a local bar band, originally
called the Druggists. They had formed in 1979 doing straightforward rock 'n'
roll covers of songs by groups such as Led Zeppelin, Bad Company, Grand Funk
Railroad, Bachman-Turner Overdrive and the Knack. They were loud and somewhat
good, and they mostly played in the small dives and private parties around the
city. The drunker the audience, the better they sounded.
My good friend Dave Wiedemann was the lead vocalist and
bassist for the Druggists, with Mike Rupert on lead guitar and vocals, Bob
Martin on rhythm guitar and Ed Williston on drums and percussion.
Dave joined in 1980, replacing a couple other guys, and
immediately took the band over with some bold new ideas. He wanted to get the
band into better venues, get more publicity, and do some original material, so
they wouldn't be strictly a "cover" band. I had some artistic
ability, a few media connections and was a budding writer with a whole notebook
of potential ideas for original rock songs, so Dave asked me to be the
"official" publicist and lyricist for the band. If nothing else I was
at least affordable, and Dave knew how to stroke my ego.
"We're gonna be big, and you're gonna help us get
there, dude," he told me.
My role as "publicist" consisted mostly of
hand-drawing posters and leaflets for the band's upcoming appearances (this was
before the era of home computers), mass-photocopying them and riding around
town on my bike, stapling them to telephone poles and community bulletin
boards. I would get the band's appearances listed in the weekly
"alternative" newspapers, and I would write up press releases and
send them out with press packets that included the band's bio, upcoming
appearances and a photo of the guys in the band, with their scraggly hair and
beards, standing, arms folded, with pissed-off looks on their faces. The posters
and publicity materials included the slogan, "WE ARE THE DRUGGISTS, AND WE
ROCK!" Occasionally someone would cross out "rock" and write in
"suck" on the posters, but I'd just tear that one down and put up a
new one when it happened.
Having the opportunity to write songs for the band was
especially thrilling. I didn't write music, but I'd jot down lyrics that I
thought would make good, hard rock songs with a particular tune in mind. I'd
submit the ideas to Dave, he'd work out something with the other guys and come
up with something that was dynamite. Dave would belt out my lyrics with gusto,
and I took pride in the fact that I did not write love lyrics or anything
conventional, and that’s what Dave and the other guys wanted.
One of the band's favorite songs that I wrote was called
"I Just Don't Care No More." They played this at just about every
show they did, and Dave cranked it out with aggressive vocals.
Well I'm tired of
listening to
Anything that comes
from you
From this day there is
no way
I'll listen to
anything you say
So you say that your
life's so bad
I just don't care no
more
You tell me that you
feel so sad
I just don't care no
more
You want someone to
tell your troubles to
I just don't care no
more
You come to me when
you feel blue
Well I JUST DON'T CARE
NO MORE!
NO I JUST DON'T CARE
NO MORE!
NO I JUST DON'T CARE
NO MORE!
I won't be there for
you when you cry
I just don't care no
more
I'm sure you know the
reason why
I just don't care no
more
You always depress the
shit out of me
I just don't care no
more
And from your troubles
I want to break free
'Cause I JUST DON'T
CARE NO MORE
NO I JUST DON'T CARE
NO MORE…
Or there was this classic. Heavy metal lyrics from a
parental perspective:
You're not a child,
you're a demon from hell
There's not a doctor
or cure that could make you well
We've put up with you,
now we're drawing the line
You piece of shit,
you're no son of mine!
You're ONE SICK BOY!
You're a disgrace to
our family name
To your mother and I,
you've brought only shame
In our society you'll
never advance
We should have aborted
you when we had the chance!
You're ONE SICK BOY!
And then there was Dave's personal favorite, and a popular one with the club audiences, the
unforgettable, hard rockin' party song, "Beast Man":
There's a creature out
there you can't escape
Sometimes he's a man,
sometimes he's an ape
BEAST MAN!
Not too many things
give him a thrill
But he loves to hunt
and he loves to kill
BEAST MAN!
Killing everything is
his desire
Looks like evolution
has gone haywire
BEAST MAN…
In the first couple of years of the 1980s, hanging out with
that band was a blast. The Druggists were getting better gigs, performing as an
opening act at the better nightclubs or as a fill-in when a main act couldn't
show up, while continuing to perform in bars and at private parties. The
audiences were generally receptive. Occasionally there would be some obnoxious
drunk causing problems, but there were never any hostile audiences that I saw.
The band was still performing classic rock covers, with my
songs thrown in, and it was especially gratifying for me to see people really
jamming out to something I had written. Dave was good about crediting me and
introducing me to people, but I was quite fine with staying in the background
and watching it all from my own comfort zone.
*****
In the spring of 1982, Dave informed me he and the guys were
working in a studio and were putting the finishing touches on an album that
would have twelve cuts, including six of my songs. He told me I’d be given
writer’s credit and would receive a share of the royalties. Finally, my work
for these guys would actually pay off.
He asked me for suggestions on what to call the new LP. I
thought for a moment and suggested the title “Fuck ‘em.” It was a phrase Dave
used a lot, as well as me, and it expressed the attitude of the band.
Dave’s immediate response was “Yeah! Cool!” But then after
thinking about it he said, “I don’t know, man. Stores aren’t going to stock
anything with ‘fuck’ in the title.” I guess he had a point.
So then I suggested, “Why don’t you call the LP “Nuke ‘em.”
On the front cover, show a picture of the band, with a big ass fuckin’ nuclear
explosion mushroom cloud in the background!” This was, after all, at the height
of the nuclear arms race with the Soviet Union.
Dave loved that idea, had a professional graphic artist work
with my sketches to create the album cover, and in June 1982, “THE
DRUGGISTS—NUKE ‘EM” came out on vinyl and cassette tape, with “I Just Don’t
Care No More” as the opening track. A couple of FM rock stations even played
that track and another one I wrote. It was at least a year before I actually
saw a royalty check, and it wasn’t much, but I was happy to get it.
The album also included a couple of new tracks I wrote. One
was called “Adolescent Therapy Session.” It started out with a distorted guitar
riff, followed by slamming drums. Then Dave’s searing vocals came in.
Well you are only
seventeen
But you’re the WORST
CASE we’ve ever seen!
You’re going out and
stealing cars
You’re drinking in
cross town bars, good god!
You pick up a police
woman decoy
You’re parents say,
“You are such a naughty boy!
“We tried to raise you
right from the start
“Now you’re breaking
our heart!”
And they SCREAM…WHAT
THE HELL’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!
The other one took a different turn, and to everyone’s surprise it became something
of a local hit. It was a ballad called “Terrance,” sung by Dave from the
perspective of a high school cad.
My name is Terrance
And I’m really chic
I’m so cute you could pinch my cheek
I’m on the honor roll and the football team
When the girls see me, they all scream (backing
vocals: Oh, TERRANCE!)
My name is Terrance
And I’m the high school jock
My big, hunk body is solid rock
I’ve got a tall blond cheerleader by my side
I’m gonna take her home and take her for a ride
Oh, I’m the all-American boy
To all the girls I provide such joy
Cause I’m a gorgeous son of a bitch
I’ll never have to work ‘cause I’m good looking and rich…
I was stunned to find out "Terrance" became a favorite at the local
clubs, and couples were actually dancing close together to it when it was played. And it did get
some radio play as well, but with a couple of words bleeped out. Those came up
in the last verse of the song.
And last night I got such a thrill
When I [bleep]-ed some [bleep] by the name
of Jill…
You can't accuse me of being incapable of writing about romance!
*****
As the decade progressed, things were changing. Bar
audiences and bar owners were looking for something different than simple loud
rock 'n' roll performed by four or five guys in long hair, beards, mustaches
and shabby clothes. It was now the era of the music video, where looks mattered
more. So-called new wave rock and urban contemporary dance music performed by
guys and girls in wildly fashionable hairdos and slick, colorful outfits was
becoming the big thing that people were looking for. New bands were popping up
and snatching up gigs that could have been had by the Druggists. And what kind
of a name was the Druggists anyway? It sounded too much like a throwback to
hippie-era drug culture. We were now in the era of Nancy Reagan's "Just
Say No" campaign. People still did drugs, but it was now considered wrong
to promote it openly.
In March 1983, Dave threw us all for a loop. He called a
meeting at the old warehouse where the band practiced, and told me to be there
too. He had some big news, and publicity is going to be more important than
ever, he said.
With me, Mike, Bob, Ed and a few others there, Dave made his
big announcement. "I hired a keyboardist. His name is Howie Horkelson (that
actually wasn’t his real name) and he's great. We're going New Wave, man. We
got to get with the Eighties. We got to think about making music videos and
getting on MTV. We can't go on being some fucking sixties throwbacks."
The guys were all looking at each other, saying, "What
the fuck?"
He turned to me and said, "Dude, I want you to make
posters and put them up all over town saying we've gone new wave. I want you to
write up press releases and send them everywhere. Newspapers, TV stations,
radio stations, everywhere. Oh, and the band's not going to be called the
Druggists anymore. From now on we're Illegal Smiles. Not the Illegal Smiles, just Illegal Smiles."
The other guys in the band were not so gung-ho on that idea,
least of all me. I said, "What the fuck do you want to do that for? The
eighties suck!" The other guys were saying, "Yeah, no shit."
Dave said, "Look, guys, I'm not saying we can't play
rock anymore. But we're living in the eighties, and if we're going to get out
of playing the dives and get booked at some of the hotter clubs, we've got to
get with what's current, what's trendy. People don't want to hear covers of Led
Zeppelin and BTO songs all the time anymore."
"So what about the stuff I'm writing for the
band," I asked.
"Keep doing what you're doing," he said.
"What you write can easily be adapted to new wave."
Dave had a talent for being persuasive as much as any good
salesman and the guys all came around to his side of the issue, however
reluctantly. And so the Druggists became Illegal Smiles and I drew up some new
posters with the group's new name in an eighties pop art style and emphasis on
"New Wave." Meanwhile, getting into the spirit, I wrote my first
"new wave" song for the band. Dave loved it, and had new keyboardist
Howie sing lead on it.
God bless this
beautiful day!
God bless the American
way!
Well there's a great
big smile
On every face I see
Everyone's a-living in
harmony
Walkin' down the
street you'll havta agree
America is the place to be!
Yes you can tell that America is the place to be
The way the surgeon
performs his surgery
The way the drunkard
drinks his burgundy
The way the radical
speaks subversively…
Howie was actually good at what he did, the band played well
with the new sound, and Illegal Smiles did start to draw bigger and more
enthusiastic crowds than they did when they were the Druggists. In addition to
what I was writing for them, the band was covering tracks from groups such as
DEVO, the Clash and the Sex Pistols.
Then in the fall of 1984, Dave decided to make another big
change. He brought in an aspiring singer named Tracy Gerwitz. Tracy
was an aerobics instructor who wanted to be the next Madonna, and she tried
hard to look just like her idol, with big permed hair, big earrings, heavy
makeup, and a crucifix around her neck, even though she was Jewish. "It's
just a fashion accessory to me," she'd say.
She had the Eighties Attitude big time. She was there
because Dave was dating her, and I'm sure the other guys in the band were
banging her as well. Not me, though. We tolerated each other, but that was
about it.
She was nice to me in a phony sort of way. She'd say,
"I want you to write songs for me but it's got to be my style." Or, "If you're going to make posters for the band be sure to mention me.
Please? You know how to spell my name, right?"
She wasn't too crazy about the songs I wrote for the band
either. She went through my notebooks with the lyrics I had jotted down and
said, "Uh, I can't believe some of this stuff you write! Your words are so
cynical, so angry at everything. Can't you write a love song?"
"Fuck that," I said. "I don't write puss
songs."
"Love songs are not puss songs," she insisted.
"Have you never been in love before? Don't you know what it's like?"
"Well, what about 'Terrance'," I suggested.
"I hate that song," she said. "That one is so sexist and misogynistic."
"Oh well," I replied.
She rolled her eyes and sighed exaggeratingly.
"What-EVER!" Then she complained to Dave about me. "Why do you
hang around with negative people? Do you know how it affects your psyche?"
Dave was hot and cold with Tracy.
One day he'd be gushing about what a great lady she was, the next day he'd be
calling her a "psycho bitch." But she had her clutches in him and in
the entire band, and that was that.
Before long a new group photo was taken with Tracy
up front and center, with the guys in the background. Soon Ed left the group
(ostensibly to get married), and then Bob left. A couple of new guys came in to
replace them, and I actually stuck around out of loyalty to Dave. Finally, in
the spring of 1985, when the band started being billed as "Illegal Smiles
Featuring Tracy Gerwitz," I knew it was pretty much over, and I too split
the scene, moving on to other things. And pretty soon there was no more Illegal
Smiles, just "singing sensation Tracy Gerwitz" getting booked at all
the hot clubs. Dave finally realized he was just a stepping stone for her.
All these years later, Dave is still a friend of mine. He
stops by occasionally for a beer and a chat. We talk about the good old days
and he still gripes about how Tracy
screwed him over. Then he gets to the point of his visit.
"Dude, you got $100 you can borrow me? I'll pay you
back tomorrow, I promise."
