Friday, July 28, 2006

Robert Michael "Bobby" Hocutt
May 27, 1951 - July, 23 2006

I just heard last night that Bobby had died.
He was 55.

Sadlacks is never going to be the same.
Bobby was punk rock before it had a name.

Bobby sold me a JVC dual cassette deck on credit
at a time when I was a credit risk. I still have it.

rest well, Mr. Hocutt.

The Herald
The News and Observer

Carolina Sin - The Sin Eaters

They eat sin, don't they? The Sin Eaters bear the centuries of sins, accumulated by the rich and disgusting, you know, so they won't have to hang around in purgatory for eternity. And here you've got the trailer trash psychobilly soundtrack. You can taste the beer and grease, you can smell the clutch slip and the rubber burn, you can feel the tail shimmy out as that Holley four barrel sucks wind and gas.

Grit, spit, fire and blood cranked and screaming off the slippery slide fingerings and the sarcastic psycho city bumpkin vocal style of Robin Mann and the booming skin smashing and backing vocals of Rock Forbes. A little cantankerous but still gets you where you wanna go. Just a couple of sophisticated rednecks from the back woods, white boy blues taking away the most heinous of your sins and crimes.

You know, to me, sin is kind of like that greasy spot on the driveway that picks up grass clippings and then just builds and builds and gets thicker and thicker. A nasty cake of gooey petroleum distillate and grass clippings from years of oily drippy drip from that old beater you drive. It is a hell tar blob that just sits there in the driveway waiting, heating in the sun, for you to park outside your dream double-wide trailer, to see your dream wife and kids, after an honest days work at your dream job. That cancer black freak of nature is like a vampire that needs the shade of your car. The car is the source of the petrol-blood. The wind brings the organic material. That's the way sins are; they build and build and pretty soon if you don't keep them in check, you're living a life of sin and dreams.

This citified country boy, blues explosion sears off the thin candy shell exposing the psychodasies lurking just below the concrete surface. Yes, you may eat the wafer from my chest so that I might be absolved. There comes a point where you need to take out the soul scraper and strip all that gristly grime away. The Sin Eaters can help. Face it. You need them.

G.O.U.G.E or 'rasslin' in downtown Raleigh

It must have been sometime way back in the early 60's when I attended my first pro wrestling match. The Masked Medics or The Infernos tag team match against maybe Swede Hansen, Rip "The Profile" Hawk, The Bolos, I'm not really sure. It was at the old Peninsula Grays minor league baseball park up in the tidewater area of Virginia. I went with my uncle Paul. First and last time.

I think it was the Medics that had a "manager" called Jake, or maybe it was Homer O'Dell or JC Dykes. Anyway, he had a cane and would beat hell out of the opponents with the cane while the team occupied the ref. You know, crowd baiting stuff. They wanted you to HATE them.

I hadn't thought too much about professional wrestling since then until recently when a friend became involved in GOUGE. That's gimmicks only grappling underground entertainment.

I had been hearing a bit about wrestling at Kings Barcade but thought little of it until Tennessee Ernie Nord from the pea pickin' fiords of the northland, northern backwoods Tennessee I'm guessing; invited us to come on down.

Well, we missed it for three-four months running but ole Ern, is one persistent hillbilly Viking; he threatened to sic the God of Thunder on us, so we finally decided to check it out Wednesday last, July 19th. Being on the guest list is a nice touch (thanks Ernie) and PBR was twofer three bucks. It's hard to beat that with Jake's rosewood cane.

I don't know a thing or two about pro wrestling. I don't know the ins, the outs, I'm not hip to the lingo or the secret handshake of wrestling. I know Jerry "The King" Lawler took out his frustration on Andy Kaufmann's head when he refused to give up his wrestling "career" and I know Terry "Hulk Hogan" Bollea put Richard Belzer to sleep on national TV and it only cost him about a million and a half dollars. And Jesse Ventura for whatever reason became the Governor of Minnesota.

We wander in and find that a front row seat has been saved for us. Cool. We cop a couple of those cheapie Papst's and get set for the evening's entertainment. The audience is already primed. Some had been here before. We are warned that our virgin ears will be gutter snipping sluts before the opening bell. Obviously this is going to be an audience participation event. This was going to be fun. The eclectic crowd is a mixed bag of young old loud and demure, complete with such intellectual social comment as "you suck!".

The opening card is the mentally fragile Scab vs Seymour Snott. I don't remember who won. Does it matter? Wallabee Joe then vanquished Go Go the Gay Gorilla, leaving his banana and his Barbie prone on the crimson carpet. KC Knight got the better of the crowd and Chief Jay Swampwater.

I won't attempt to describe every turn buckle slam, every contested two count from Mr. Jolly every chop to the breastplate or every painful wince but believe me it was quite a spectacle.

Gluteus Maximus, Yuk, Mudface, T-Dawg HG, Otto, Blackie Chan, Luther, Cowboy Willie and Tennessee Ernie Nord; all great performers, so do yourself a favor, the next time GOUGE comes to your town, check it out. Hey, this is just like slam dancing without the screaming guitars.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Thrift Store Find - HMP-78
& a painting by my mom

there's nothing like a new toy. Bargain Box $4

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Syd Barrett January 6, 1946 - July 7, 2006

I am at a loss for the proper words. I cannot overestate what Syd Barrett's music and art have meant to me. Unique, brilliant, timeless; It is sad to hear of his passing.

"I never knew the moon could be so big,
I never knew the moon could be so blue..."

RIP Roger Keith Barrett 1946-2006

Monday, July 10, 2006

Certified Diskette No. 307

you should get one of these. hurry there's not too many of them.
28 local bands/artists and lots of diversity. a nice showcase for
307 Knox Records
. free if you can find it.
My friend Michael has a song on it. he and I wrote it. There you go.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

still trying to take me for that same old clown...

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

and rasslin' at Kings...