From San Francisco To Santa Clara: In 1987 We Spent Forty-Five Minutes On Tour With Balaam & The Angel!

Originally published in Rave-Up #12 (1987)
Story by Devorah Ostrov

(L-R) Jim and Mark Morris
Photos: Devorah Ostrov

"Hello!" Jim Morris, guitarist and one of the three brothers that comprise Balaam & the Angel, was the first to greet my friend and I in the hotel lobby. He was wearing the same stripped t-shirt and jeans from the previous day and bounding through the posh lobby barefoot.

We decided that eating was the first order of the day, so Jim escorted us to the hotel's restaurant — where he was curtly turned away and sternly told "put on some shoes!"

Shortly afterwards Jim returned properly attired, and we were joined by Mark (vocalist),  Des (drummer), Allie from the road crew, and Chris, the road manager. Over our breakfast of curry and tea we laid out our plans for the day. The local Harley shop was a must, as was Shades. But first there was business to take care of: an interview had been set up that afternoon at KUSF.

In the meantime, Jim filled us in on how their shows with the Mission UK were going. "We were expecting to come here and get no reaction at all," he said. "It's going really well, though. There's always at least a handful of people at the shows who know something about us."

Mark also had a few comments — or rather, a few choice words — about groupies: "I'm so sick of it! They just try to use us to meet the Mission. The Mission won't let them into their dressing room, so they come into ours and then ask if we can get them into the Mission's dressing room."

Jim Morris - onstage at Wolfgang's
San Francisco, May 1987
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

Before we knew it, it was time to leave for KUSF. The group gathered in the lobby, grumbling and griping about breaking up their day with an interview. "I tried to cancel," offered Chris. "I told them you wanted to go sightseeing and shopping but there was no way out of it."

"That's why we're over here," added Jim, always the practical one, "for publicity."

Thus cajoled, the band, Allie, Chris, the two of us and all the luggage were loaded into the van and off we went.

"It'll only take half an hour at most," said their record company rep, as Jim and Mark followed him up to the radio station. Des chose to stay behind with us for a drive around SF taking in such tourist highlights as Charles Manson's old house, a drive down Lombard Street ("Is that it?" Des was disappointed) and a glimpse of Alcatraz. 

Returning to collect Jim and Mark, who had been joined by a KUSF DJ, we found that our plans had once again been postponed. 

First it was a quick trip to Reckless Records to say "Hi!" and shake some hands, and then a drive up Haight Street. The DJ amicably pointed out that it was the "famous Haight Ashbury area." 

"What's that?" asked Mark. He really had no idea what the guy was talking about.

Those of us who had not been at the interview were finally informed that we were looking for a gelato ice cream shop. This was the last straw for Des. "Why the hell are we looking for an ice cream shop!?" he demanded.

"Because they're giving us free ice cream," Mark shouted back.

"Who cares!?" screamed Des.

Mark and Des Morris somewhere on the road
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

This seemed to bring everyone back to their senses and it was quickly decided that nobody actually wanted gelato ice cream. The DJ was unceremoniously dropped off near the Panhandle.

Then it was off to the Harley shop! Once inside, the boy's eyes lit up like kids in a candy store. Hard earned tour money was laid out for t-shirts, bandanas, belt buckles, and even a leather jacket (for Chris). Eyeing an especially beautiful bike — with a price tag of $10,000 — Mark even began to count the number of shows it would take for him to buy it and vowed to someday return for it.

A quick stop around the corner at Shades completed the shopping spree and it was off to that night's gig at One Step Beyond. Driving down 101, we arrived in Santa Clara 45 minutes later with the hotel for the night clearly visible from the freeway (which was lucky as no one had asked for directions).

Chris, briefcase in hand, looking every bit the rock 'n' roll tour manager, went inside to deal with the reservations. He was followed by Mark, who had donned his new Harley gear in the van and looked not in the least like someone staying at the Marriott.

Mark's emergence from the van prompted a visit from Ashley, the bellboy, who decided it was his duty to see what this van full of hooligans was doing at his hotel.

"You guys staying here?" Ashley inquired, sticking his Top Gun haircut into the van.

"Yeah," answered Jim, trying to be respectful. "We're in a band."

"What's the name of the band?" Jim now had Ashley's full attention.

"We're called Balaam & the Angel."

The name registered zero with Ashley, who continued, "Where are you playing?"

"One Step Beyond," offered Jim, still being friendly.

Mark Morris - onstage at Wolfgang's
San Francisco, May 1987
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of it," said Ashley. "But it's not really my scene."

By this time, Chris and Mark had returned with the news that although the hotel had the reservations, there were no available rooms. Although I'm sure Ashley was relieved, this meant the band would have to drive straight through to Oregon after the show.

But don't worry about the two fanzine journalists from San Francisco, we'll be fine!

"It's because Mark went in there looking like that," grumbled Des.

Mark countered with something like, "Shut up!" And so, amid the good-natured arguing, Chris began the drive to the club.

It wasn't long before we realized that no one had any idea where we were. "Maybe we should have asked the creepy bellboy for directions," suggested Jim.

However, Chris came to the rescue, pulling out a map of the area which Mark did his best to decipher. Between the two of them, a likely looking freeway exit was chosen and... we were still lost!

"No wonder we're lost," Des proclaimed, noticing for the first time that the map was in Mark's hands. "Monkey's got the map!"

Eventually we found the club, and the show was great! Although the South Bay audience was lacking on the energy front, prompting Mark to shout: "Fucking let us know how you feel about us. Make some noise one way or the other!"

Backstage afterwards everyone was in good spirits, saying goodbye, exchanging addresses and promising to keep in touch. Mark took a quiet moment to draw us aside and tell us, "Me and my brothers are like all other brothers. But no matter how much we fight with each other, I really love these guys. We're as close as anyone could ever be, and we'll always stick together."

The Teardrop Explodes - Julian Cope Is A Nice Boy (Just In Case His Mother Reads This)

Originally published in Rave-Up #4 (1982)

Interview by Devorah Ostrov

Julian Cope hanging out in the Upper Haight
Photo: Sara Brinker

Julian Cope, lead singer of the Teardrop Explodes — the quirkily poppy/somewhat psychedelic band that he formed four years ago in Liverpool — is a pop star. It's an observation that he doesn't deny. And when Sara and I meet up with Julian during the band's soundcheck at the I-Beam, he is everything a pop star should be: talented, handsome, charming, funny, and intelligent. He's also keen to get outside and explore the Upper Haight. So off we go to have a chat and find a suitable Victorian for Julian to pose in front of.

Q: It seems like when the Teardrop Explodes formed, it was more of an arty band than a pop band. But lately, you're portrayed as just a cute pop singer (see above!). Does that bother you?

Julian: Uhmm... It's fine at the moment because anything that doesn't make sense is fine by me. I didn't start out to form a particularly "arty" thing. I wanted to start something that was real to me, that was honest to me. I never changed because of success or anything. 

   At one point last year it suddenly made sense commercially [with a clutch of singles in the charts], which made it quite an enjoyable thing. But the main thing was that it was a challenge. The challenge was that people had gotten back into that early '70s thing where you had to be serious to be a pop group. A serious group is just wanking off. It's just people going up to each other saying, "Isn't this great?" Where in actual fact, the best groups... 

   That's why we started kind of looking back to the '60s. A lot of bands had something to say, but they said it with people who were nice-looking. You didn't have to be repulsive. You didn't have to totally gross out your audience. You could be [Jim] Morrison; you could be Tim Buckley; you could be Lou Reed.

Q: In other words, you could be a teen idol but still be worthwhile.

Julian: Yeah! Traffic, and all those sorts of groups. They were totally weird. I want to be Traffic more than anything else. Sometimes they had big hits, and other times they'd go for two years without a hit. I don't know... I don't sit down to write hits. I've never sat down to write a hit because I know I couldn't do it. I just sit down to write songs, and it's so much more fun when they develop in certain ways. If they happen to be hits, then that's very good.

Q: Some of your songs make pointed references to religion, like "Christ vs. Warhol." And "Bouncing Babys" is supposedly about Jesus. Were you brought up religiously?

Advert for the Teardrop Explodes
at the I-Beam April 12 & 13, 1982
(From the collection of 
Kareem Kaddah)

Julian: No, very unreligiously. I just have a fascination for religious imagery, but I can't get any further into it other than on an observational level. To me, religion is such a waste of time because it's caused so many more deaths than births. But at the same time, they have these really beautiful images, like Christ on a cross — these searing, painful images that seem wasted on religion.

Q: What were you trying to say with the song "Christ vs. Warhol"?

Julian: I was trying to say that there's a fight between the desire to create something great on a Christian level, which is like a 2000-year level, and the Warhol level — the 15-minute thing. I was trying to say that they're both just as valid.

Q: I've read that you left home to study acting in Liverpool. Why didn't you pursue an acting career?

Julian: Umm... The punk thing had just started; I'd heard "Anarchy in the U.K." And I finally found Eric's. It took me three weeks to find Eric's. I left college after about six months, went on the dole, and started hanging around Liverpool trying to form a group.

Q: Your parents must have been furious. "Sent him off to college and now look at him."

Julian: Haha! That's it, yeah! I wasn't allowed home for about eight months — sheared, bleached hair. I even had an earring for a while.

Q: Speaking of your hair... I've also read that you always check car windows to see how your hair looks. Are you really that self-conscious?

Julian: Yeah! You know that line "...mirror hopping..." Maybe it's just a ridiculous ego thing, but I see it more or less... I'm very paranoid about the way I look.

Q: Is that just recently because you're in all the magazines?

Julian: I've been like that since I was about 16 or 17. I thought it was very ironic when I became a kind of pop star because the photos of me, most of the time, are completely the opposite of, say, Duran Duran. They've always got loads of make-up on, and they've always got their cheeks sucked in like this [he strikes a typical and comical Duran Duran pose].

Q: New Sounds, New Styles recently had a game where the object was to get your group to Number 1. But at number 11, the player could get derailed by the message: "Your lead singer thinks he's Scott Walker. Miss one throw to visit a special clinic." It was an obvious dig at your well-known adulation of Scott Walker. Do you get annoyed by stuff like that?

The Teardrop Explodes perform "Passionate
Friend" on TOTP in 1981

Julian: No, not at all. The one good thing is that the music papers have never gotten bored with me. Even when I suddenly changed from being just a singer to being a pop star... I know that it doesn't make sense. It sounds really crass in a way, but... We've been on Top of the Pops, and we were tripping. You know you wouldn't see Duran Duran or Adam Ant doing that.

Q: I saw you do "Passionate Friend" on Top of the Pops...

Julian: Haha! We got banned from Top of the Pops after that. The BBC has a "cut out" department; they cut out articles from all the magazines...

Q: I'm guessing they cut out the interview from The Face that said you were on acid?

Julian: That's real 1984. But it's real funny. We'll get back on it soon enough. Britain's just like... You have to go to Liverpool. We started Club Zoo in Liverpool; we did five weeks of gigs there. There were four levels; we played on the bottom level. There was a jazz band on the top floor, videos and other stuff on the second floor, and on the third floor, everybody just crashed. Some nights, people weren't watching us. We'd play in front of 200 people because they knew we'd be on for another five weeks. Also, there were video cameras all over the place, so you could be in any part of the club and see the other floors. So, if I was freaking out, they could come down and watch it.

Q: I know you're probably sick of talking about it, but could you tell us a little about your earlier group, the Crucial Three?

Julian Cope on the cover of The Face - Nov 1981

Julian: Mac [Ian McCulloch from Echo and the Bunnymen], Pete [Wylie from Wah! Heat] and I all met at a Clash gig — the first Clash gig at Eric's on May 5th, 1977. And we said, "Yeah, let's form a group!" We didn't want to form a punky group. We wanted to form a group that was... The Crucial Three was meant to be more like a reggae sort of thing.

Q: Did Pete Wylie come up with the name?

Julian: Yeah! Great name! The whole thing was to be legendary. "We won't do anything, but in three years people will say we're legendary." And it happened. I mean, it was obvious that it was going to happen. It was so funny that the three of us became the leaders of the three main weird bands in Liverpool. And there's never been a point since then that the Crucial Three have been in the same room together. The closest we got... There's this place in Liverpool called the Ministry of Love where we all rehearse, and there was one point where Mac and I were in the same room and Pete was next door.

Q: I've heard that the Crucial Three was horrible because all three of you wanted to be in charge.

Julian: Oh, it was crap. It would have worked if they'd made me the lead singer. But Mac had to have a go. I was playing bass, and Pete was singing too. We were always introducing these things... It didn't get anywhere at all.

Q: Are you still on good terms with the guys from Echo and the Bunnymen?

Julian: Yeah, Pete de Freitas [Echo and the Bunnymen drummer] shares my flat at the moment. The Bunnymen never used to take any drugs — except Pete. And Pete used to take so many. We used to go down to Rockfield... The Bunnymen would be recording while we were rehearsing. We would take acid and have the best time! 

   I remember once Pete was dressed like a woodland nymph, he had all these vine leaf things that he'd gotten from this tree. He'd joined them all up and had them around his head. Then he had this kind of toga thing made out of two sheets. We were running around... What was I? Oh, I had my nightshirt on, and my Vietnamese gun battle thing. I was doing the "Afghan Rebel" kind of image. And Gary [Dwyer, Teardrop Explodes drummer] was being a mountain lion trying to attack us. It sounds totally bizarre...

Go to www.headheritage.co.uk for more info
about Julian & to purchase merchandise like
Head-On, his 1994 autobiography.

Q: Seems like perfectly reasonable behavior.

Julian: It went on for four hours. We just ran around this table for four hours!

Q: Do your parents read all the articles about you? That interview in The Face must have worried them.

Julian: I tell them what to read and what not to read. They don't think that I take any drugs at all. I say, "Don't read this interview, it's full of swearing." And my mother says, "Okay." I know she doesn't know I take drugs because if she knew, she'd die.

Q: Are you still working with Bill Drummond [manager/producer/Zoo Records founder]?

Julian: Yes, but he's not managing us anymore. He's just going to be publishing and doing special projects. My solo album will be coming out on Zoo.

Q: Solo album? What's happening?

Julian: I've got so many songs that I want to do that don't fit in with Teardrop Explodes. I've got a good twenty-six songs.

Q: That's a double album.

Julian: I was thinking that maybe a Julian Cope solo album should be so over the top... I'd like to start doing it a month or so after our third album. We'll be doing that one in July. But I'm really not sure how my contract stands at the moment.

Girlschool - Would You Buy A Used Washing Machine From These Girls?

Originally published in Rave-Up #4 (1982)

Interview by Devorah Ostrov

Ron Quintana showing issue #5 of Metal Mania to Girlschool
guitarist Kelly Johnson & drummer Denise Dufort 
during a record store visit in San Francisco.
Photo by Gil Weston (using Ron's Instamtic camera)

Still riding high on the UK chart success of Hit And Run and before the release of their third album, a short string of US dates (cheekily called the "Lock Up Your Sons" tour) brought Girlschool to the Old Waldorf in April. 

Following their soundcheck, I spoke to Kim, Kelly, Denise, and newcomer Gil about the tour, discovered what their parents think of their alliance with Motorhead, and uncovered scandalous tales of what went on at a real girls' school. Plus, Kim took the opportunity to quiz Denise and Gil about their work history experience! 

Q: With the massive success of Hit And Run, do the music papers tend to treat you with more respect?

Kim: I don't know. I think we got a bit of a backlash, didn't we? They built us up and built us up... We were always in the press for a while. And then we started doing really well, and the album started doing really well. Then suddenly, they thought they would start criticizing us!

Q: When you started out, did you have to prove yourselves to the audience because you were girls? Or didn't that matter to English audiences?

Kim: I don't know, really. We didn't think we had to prove ourselves, but I expect we did in a way. They [the audience] used to come along and pack down three drinks in the pub beforehand and then just come and have a good laugh. But a lot of them came back again because they liked the music.

Motorhead & Girlschool 
at Friars Aylesbury

Kelly: It's starting again over here because we don't know anybody and we're playing small clubs. 

Q: This is your first time touring America?

Kim: Yeah, it's been fab [sarcastically].

Kelly: Fun, fun, fun [also sarcastically].

Q: How are the mostly male audiences treating you here as opposed to England?

Kim: Really well, actually! We're quite surprised. A few of them know the songs. It's nice. We feel like we're at home!

Q: Have you been getting good reviews so far on the tour?

Kelly: Yeah! I don't know why. It's surprising.

Kim: I don't know why, either. But yeah, they've been really good. They think we've done these amazing things, like going way over the top, you know. And we're saying, "Wait, are they talking about us?" 

Q: Where have you played so far?

All Together: Baltimore, New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Trenton, New Haven, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland...

Q: New Haven? Trenton? No one ever plays there!

Kim: We'd never even heard of New Haven and Trenton.

Q: Did anyone come to see you there?

Kim: Yeah! I suppose because they don't have many bands there.

Q: They didn't care who you were!

L-R: Denise Dufort, Kelly Johnson, Kim McAuliffe and Gil Weston
(publicity photo)

Kim: Exactly! We did a gig in Portland [Oregon], and that was sold out — 3,000 people! We were looking at the city and there was nothing to do at night. So it must have been a big event. A gig!

Q: Is the Old Waldorf the smallest place you've played in a while?

Kim: We've played a few over here that have been about this size. But we've never played to people sitting down eating dinner!

Q: Motorhead played here last year. It was amazing! 

Kim: Yeah, right! Steve, one of our guitar roadies was with them. He said they didn't have any tables or chairs for them. But they knew about it in advance. If we'd known... Nobody tells us anything! [Note: Most of the tables and chairs were removed before the show started.]

Q: Did your parents warn you not to hang around with Motorhead because they were a bad influence?

Mercury/Polygram Records publicity photo

Kim: No, not really. They all really like Motorhead. My mum and dad went to their last concert at the Hammersmith. They're really into the band; they helped us a lot in the beginning. They never said, "Oh no, we don't want you to do this. We want you to become a secretary." They helped us all they could. We're pretty lucky, really. 

Q: Did any of you actually work as secretaries?

Kim: I worked in a bank, that's pretty close. [Pointing at Kelly] She was various things. What were you, Gil?

Gil: A skivvy.

Denise: I used to sell washing machines and fridges and stuff in a big chain shop. They sold kettles, tea sets, paint, posters...

Kim: Did you ever sell anything?

Denise: Yeah! I used to get wages, but I'd get a commission on top if I sold a washing machine. I sold four in a week once.

Q: Were you more influenced by male heavy metal groups or Suzi Quatro and other female rockers?

Kim: Neither! I used to love Led Zeppelin, and I suppose they influenced me quite a bit. But we...

Kelly: She actually loves them!

Kim: I do, yeah! I think they're one of the best bands ever in the whole universe! I don't know really, there's so many. I think David Bowie is a pretty common hero with this band. He's just terrific! He's my hero. [Gil was wearing a David Bowie t-shirt.]

Q: Did any of you go to a girls' school?

Kelly Johnson posing for my camera at Grauman's Chinese Theatre, and walking
down Hollywood Blvd. before the show - Los Angeles, California, 2004 
(Photos: Devorah Ostrov)

Kim: I did, yeah. Denise did. They're good fun! I used to have great laughs at school. We used to cause riots!

Kelly: She used to beat people up!

Kim: I didn't beat people up! We just used to go out and get pissed at dinner time, go back and create havoc, you know. There wasn't much they could do with six or seven drunken girls. Our school had the highest pregnancy rate in London. We all had our own boyfriends who'd come and pick us up after school. I used to have this cute boyfriend with a motorbike who'd pick me up. But while we were at school it was just a lot of girls together. Like it is now, actually. From one girls' school to another!

The opening group, Stepmothers, start their soundcheck and everyone gets distracted...

Kim: Is this the support band? They're really good! They're heavy. I thought they were going to be punk rock. Or are they heavy?

Q: They're heavy metal punk rockers! The heavy metal kids don't like them because they're too punk rock. And the punks don't like them because they're too heavy metal.

Stiff Records advert for the US release of Hit And Run (a combination
of the first two UK albums) plus exciting tour information!

Kim: We had exactly the same problem. When we came out, it was the new wave era in Britain. So, when we used to play new wave clubs, they didn't like us 'cause we were too heavy metal. When we played heavy metal places, they didn't like us 'cause they thought we were too much like new wave.

Kelly: We got a little confused. We developed this neurosis.

Q: What did you finally decide you were?

Kim: The kids decided what we were.

Kelly: We wanted to be labeled!

Kim: We got labeled in the end 'cause Motorhead came along, saw us, and wanted us to support them on tour. We said, "Yes!" And then of course we started to play to all heavy metal audiences. After that, we were labeled as HEAVY METAL!

Brent Muscat Is Pretty, But What Makes Him Special? The Faster Pussycat Guitarist Answers That & More In This 1990 Interview!

Originally published in Rave-Up #18 (1990)

Interview by Devorah Ostrov

Faster Pussycat (publicity photo)

"You're pretty, but what makes you special?"

Taime Downe, an employee at Retail Slut and frontman for fledgling LA club band Faster Pussycat, hurled this rude compliment at a friend of mine as she walked down Melrose Avenue. 

When she couldn't come up with a witty retort, he smirked and sauntered off — having made his point, I guess. And thus, I began biding my time for three long years, waiting for an opportunity to interview Faster Pussycat so I could turn that question on Taime himself (and ask about their records and stuff).

Brent & Eric in ROCKbeat magazine

So, I was mildly vexed when nice guy Brent Muscat called Rave-Up HQ for this interview. But I asked him, anyway...

Q: You're pretty, but what makes you special?

"I like that question," laughs Brent, before he confidently dives in: "I think I have a good personality. I like to think I'm semi-intelligent. I have a good imagination, and I think I'm creative."

The cutie-pie guitarist also mentions that he's attracted to girls with good personalities. "Sometimes, you meet someone with a perfect body and a beautiful face," he says, "but there's nothing inside because they've never had to develop a personality."

Faster Pussycat's strong sophomore album, Wake Me When It's Over (the title of a 1960 comedic romp and a possible comment on the trials and tribulations of the recording process), was released by Elektra Records last August. Since then, the guys have been playing club dates to promote the LP, but they'll soon be embarking on a major US tour as openers for fellow LA glam/trash merchants Mötley Crüe. 

Brent is very excited about the upcoming tour, calling it the band's "first big break." Perhaps surprisingly, that comment is meant to include their support slot on Alice Cooper's 1987 (pre-"Poison") tour. 

Faster Pussycat on the cover of
Screamer magazine - May 1990

According to Brent, supporting Alice was "great for us, but it wasn't a lot of exposure. There's a big difference between playing in front of 2,000 people a night and playing in front of 30,000 people a night [the projected average audience for Mötley Crüe]. Especially when the 2,000 people are hardcore Alice Cooper fans, and they don't really care about who's opening up. I'm hoping that the Mötley Crüe crowd are gonna be a little more into us."

The group that took its moniker from a Russ Meyer's cult flick and worked especially hard at developing a bad-boy image based on (real or imagined) debauchery and depravity, also seems untroubled by any form of lyrical censorship from the record company. 

Wake Me When It's Over might be a touch more bluesy/boozy than the band's 1987 eponymous debut, but it's definitely no less sleazy. "I've got you buckled to the floorboards/Got you screaming like a pooch on a leash..." sings Taime on the LP's primly titled opening track, "Where There's a Whip There's a Way."

Elektra really didn't have a problem with their lyrics?

"There's stuff that Elektra maybe doesn't like," admits Brent, "but we were like that when they signed us. So it's like, they knew what they were getting."

Early flyer for Faster Pussycat (and the Zeros)
at the Country Club in Reseda, CA. 

"We have a really good manager," Brent adds. "He might say, 'This is a super good song. If you change this one word, maybe it can be on the radio.' Then, we have to decide if that's important to us or not."

Has it ever been important enough to them to change a song's lyrics?

"Not really," he insists.

The group has, however, received its fair share of finger-wagging from the P.M.R.C. (Parents Music Resource Center, headed-up by Tipper Gore). And while some might say the criticism is well deserved, Brent notes that Faster Pussycat fans have quickly jumped to their defense.

Wake Me When It's Over
(Elektra Records, 1989)

"I've seen a letter this girl wrote to Tipper Gore," he says. "She wrote, 'When Faster Pussycat talk about sex, it's a sexual thing. It's not a bad thing.'"

"Actually, I don't think she'd read our lyrics 'cause there's some real dirty stuff in there," he chuckles. But in general, Brent agrees with the letter writer. "It's true. When Taime sings about stuff, it's mostly from his personal experience. And a lot of the stuff that sounds nasty doesn't really mean nasty stuff."

He points to "Slip of the Tongue" as an example: "You could take that to mean something really nasty, and sometimes when we play it live, Taime will say it's about, er... [Brent pauses to giggle because he's a nice guy and has probably just realized he's telling this story to a girl] ...eating pussy. But it's really about people talking shit about each other; people talking behind your back and getting you in trouble — 'With a slip of the tongue/I'm in deep shit!'"

What about "Where There's a Whip There's a Way"? Is that an amusing metaphor too?

Faster Pussycat

"No, that's pretty straight to the point," states Brent. "But at the same time, Taime isn't telling people they should do that. It's just his little bondage fantasy. It shouldn't be taken seriously. When I first heard the lyrics to that song, I was laughing! 'Gonna sign that filly up for the rodeo...' It's just ridiculous!"

Brent's personal favorite songs on the new LP are "Pulling Weeds" and "Little Dove," both of which he co-wrote with Taime. On the latter, he employs a talk box — the weird tube-like apparatus that Peter Frampton made so irritatingly famous back in the '70s. 

Annoyingly, Brent won't tell me what he's saying into the talk box (he "prefers to leave it to your imagination"), but he acknowledges that Frampton Comes Alive was one of the first records he ever bought. Although he'd rather give Aerosmith credit for the inspiration: "Joe Perry has always used one. He plays it on 'Sweet Emotion,' but he doesn't make a big deal out of it."

Brent didn't include it as a favorite, but the Faster Pussycat tune getting the most attention at the moment is "House of Pain," penned by Taime and guitarist Greg Steele. The power-ballad about a young boy's abandonment by his father is the latest track from the LP to be issued as a 45 (it follows the raucous "Poison Ivy"), and an emotional black and white video for the song (directed by Michael Bay) has been picked up by MTV.

Publicity photo from Faster Pussycat's debut album cover
L-R: Mark Michals, Brent Muscat, Greg Steele, Taime Downe, Eric Stacy

The intensity of Taime's vocals on "House of Pain" leads one to believe the song is autobiographical, which to a certain extent it is. "Taime grew up with his dad not around a lot," explains Brent. "It was just something he felt about his dad."

He emphasizes, "I think it's a really cool song because when most bands write a ballad, it's gotta be on the radio and it's gotta say, 'I love you baby... I miss you so much... I won't forget you...' Which is great, but for me, I think 'House of Pain' is cooler because it feels more real."

Brent Muscat is a ROCKbeat Metal Pinup

"Cryin' Shame," also written by the Downe/Steele team could likewise be classified as a ballad, although its gruesome storyline sets it way outside standard ballad territory.

"To me, 'Cryin' Shame' isn't a ballad," says Brent. "It's a very scary song. It's a true story. Taime and Greg read this book called Say You Love Satan." (Written by David St. Clair, the book chronicles the grisly murder of a teenager by his friends.) 

"I didn't read it," Brent continues. "I'm not really into that kind of stuff. But they were like, 'Wow!' It was really shocking to them. How could these kids kill another kid? It's kind of written from the point of view of the kid who died. What was he thinking about?"

Plagued by personal and professional problems for the last couple of years, recording a second album sometimes seemed impossible. 

"There's a lot of positive things happening to us now," states Brent with obvious relief. "But there was a period between this album and our first one where we thought we weren't going to do it. We kept thinking, 'God, why is this happening?' When we were down on our luck, something else [bad] would happen." 

Graphically portraying the band's feelings of frustration over their (hopefully) past problems is the LP's strange cover art which portrays a man screaming. But Brent refuses to tell anyone who it is or why they're screaming.

"House of Pain" b/w "Slip of the Tongue"
picture sleeve 45 released in Germany - 1989 

"Someone thought it was Jimi Hendrix," he offers. "Someone else thought it was Sly Stone. To someone, it's a guy screaming 'cause he's having an orgasm. To someone else, he's getting his fingers chopped off."

"It's anything you want it to be," Brent says with a noncommittal shrug I can see on the other end of the phone line. But there is a motive behind their madness, and it has to do with being viewed as legitimate musicians. 

"We wanted people to look at the cover and say, 'What are they doing? What does that mean?' Rather than, 'They look good, but can they play?' That's what happened with our first album. With this album, we wanted people to see that we're a serious band and listen to our music."

Which neatly brings us back around to the start of this interview. Faster Pussycat is pretty, but what makes the band special? 

"We don't take ourselves seriously," firmly states Brent. "We have fun with it. There's a million people out there who are in bands. There's a million guys who play guitar. A lot of people get carried away and think they're rock stars. I don't think I'm the greatest person in the world, just because I play guitar. Being in a band isn't so important; we remember that."

Faster Pussycat - "Just the Facts"

Will And The Kill: The Younger Sexton Brother Releases His Debut Album, And Another Austin Legend Is Launched!

Originally published in Rave-Up #14 (1988)

Interview by Devorah Ostrov

Will Sexton
Photo: Nels Israelson (from the LP Will And The Kill)

In case you don't know, 17-year-old Will Sexton is Charlie's little brother. There, that's out of the way. He's also gorgeous, smart, funny, charming, self-assured, and a helluva talented musician in his own right!

While lazing around his home in Austin, Texas, Will picked up the phone to chat about his debut album, Will And The Kill — produced by music legend Joe Ely and released on MCA Records. But first, I had some business to take care of for a certain ex-Go-Go.  

Q: First of all, who is your favorite person with the initials K.V.?

WILL (after a very long pause): Kerry Von Erich?

Q: No! Not even close. You were supposed to say, "Kathy Valentine." I told her I was going to be talking to you today.

WILL: Yeah? We wrote a song together!

Q: "Restless to Reckless."

WILL: Yeah! If you tell her I said Kerry Von Erich, I'll kill you.

Q: So, who's Kerry Von Erich?

WILL: He's a famous wrestler from Dallas. He's a real sweet guy, too.

Will And The Kill 
(MCA Records 1988)

Q: Did you know Kathy before you made this record?

WILL: Yeah, well, she's from Austin.

Q: Did you also know Joe Ely? Is he an old family friend? 

WILL: Well, pretty much. It's not as tight a unity in Austin as it was eight or nine years ago. Well, even before that. But as far as I can remember, all the bands were like a family, and we were all doing the same kind of music. It was either rockabilly or rock and roll or blues. There were none of these, you know, art or heavy metal bands around Austin. It was really a blues town.

Q: It must have been fun to work with Joe Ely since you've known him for so long.

WILL: Yeah! There was just a wild voodoo in the air when we did this record. Charlie and Ely... Jimmy Vaughn came in and played on a song. It was really fun. We definitely had a good time! I think that's the way records should be made. Too many people make records without having fun, and they get into this big generic thing.

Q: It seems like you're also trying to bring back the family atmosphere that Austin used to be known for. Like working with your friends...

WILL: Uh-huh. The record has a personal feeling to it when you listen to it. It's real personal to me. I made the record to make me happy. I didn't make it for anyone else but myself. There were times when it got frustrating. But for the most part we just had a blast!

Q: You've changed your whole band since the record came out. Were they studio musicians who didn't want to tour?

Will and the Kill open for
Lords of the New Church at the
Cave Club in Austin, Texas - July 1987

WILL: Well, I was looking for something and I wasn't getting it. So, I got a new band that makes me feel like I want to feel on stage. 

Q: So, you just fired the old group?

WILL (laughing): Well... you know, there's a bunch of politics behind it. But all that matters is that I got a new band that sounds tighter than ever, and I'm happy. Things are working out the way I want them to.

Q: I've heard that you and Charlie used to be in a band together. Is that true?

WILL: Well, kind of, when we were kids.

Q: What were you called?

WILL: Los Dos Dudes... The Two Dudes.

Q: How cool! Did you write your own songs back then?

WILL: Nah... we just did old blues standards. 

Q: You guys were playing old blues standards when you were kids? Were you playing them well?

WILL (laughing): Well... certain blues standards aren't too hard. But back then, we were just getting it together. We started playing with the Vaughan brothers, the Thunderbirds, and Double Trouble.

Q: Are your influences mostly blues? Do you listen to any current rock bands?

WILL: I really like the old guys, going back to "Hound Dog" Taylor, Magic Sam, and a lot of blues guitar players. But I especially love "Hound Dog" Taylor; he had this disgusting tone that was beautiful! I like ZZ Top and the Rolling Stones. And I love Slash from Guns N' Roses; he's a great guitar player!

      

Q: Your taste in music is so different from what most people your age listen to. Maybe it's because you're from Texas, but most teenagers just know what they see on MTV.

Will and the Kill
(MCA publicity photo)

WILL: Well, y'know... Most of the stuff that's being made and marketed in the world is, uhmm... starting to upset me a little bit. I mean, people need to get down to basic drums and rockin' rhythm guitars — the stuff Keith Richards will be doing for as long as he lives. This techno stuff is a waste of time. It has no personality.

Q: Do a lot of people compare your music to what Charlie's doing?

WILL: I get a lot of people saying, "Oh, you're so much truer to the whatever..." The music I'm playing right now isn't too different from what Charlie was doing three years ago. A lot of my stuff... I learned a lot from watching Charlie's previous bands. He had some great bands, and his band now is great! Charlie's just one of those kinda guys who always sounds good no matter what style he plays in, y'know.

Q: Did you learn any lessons watching Charlie's rise to stardom?

WILL: Well, I think you have to plan it correctly and think about where you want to end up in the years to come, rather than just being Mr. Big this year and a wash-out tomorrow. As long as I can pay my rent, I'm fine. I don't need to have no giant mansion.

Will Sexton - at the Stone in SF
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

Q: So, you're doing this because you genuinely love the music.

WILL: Yeah! That's why I was shocked that people really appreciated the record when it came out. I really didn't expect that.

Q: Well, it's a great album!

WILL: I didn't think it would be this big. I just kinda did it, y'know. When me and Joe were writing songs for the record, we didn't think, "Oh, we can do this and make it a hit song." 

Q: I wonder about some of your lyrics. There's some risqué innuendos...

WILL: Are there? Uh-oh. You should hear the versions that I had before they [MCA Records] made me edit the lyrics!

Q: Did you have to do a lot of editing?

WILL: Haha! Sometimes!

Q: Can you give me an example?

WILL: It's a song to be saved until I make enough money where I can say whatever I want. I'm gonna be making a lot more records, and they're just gonna get filthier and filthier. When I play live, I do some X-rated versions of the songs. "Rocks in My Pillow" has got some really low-down lyrics, but I can't say them to a girl. When I'm on stage, and you're not looking...

Q: I imagine a lot of girls come to your shows!

WILL: We're not a teenybopper band or anything, so we get all kinds. I think that my band can appeal to anyone from 15 to 40-year-olds. Which is real important because you gotta have... As long as you've got soul and you've got feeling, and you put it into your music, people of all ages will like it. If you do that heavy metal and techno nonsense with no soul, then that ain't gonna go anywhere.

Charlie & Will Sexton 
Photo: Todd V. Wolfson 

Q: Do you have any advice for other kids who want to play guitar?

WILL: My advice is to buy some Hendrix records and stuff like that before you start listening to Ying Yang Mom's Mang. I mean, listen to where it all came from because you can't learn... Like, I think Eddie Van Halen is incredible, but I think it would be a sin for someone to learn to play guitar from Eddie Van Halen because he learned from the greats. He really studied and really knows his roots.

Q: Well, I don't want to take up too much of your time...

WILL: It's a good day to do interviews. I'm in a great mood today! For three years, I did interviews with people that didn't even know what I sounded like or nothing. So, I was getting annoyed.