Monday, May 12, 2003


6. This is, of course, the Cramps' cover of the Bostweeds' classic tit-le tune from one of the two reasons right-thinking people still suffer Russ Meyer to live, Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! More than that, though, this is a pivotal moment from the original schlockabilly combo (the band that didn't need a bass 'cause they were base enough to begin with) - more or less the precise instant that their obsessions shifted from EC comics to E cups, and, not coincidentally, the moment their album covers started getting more interesting than the stuff inside them. (And please, no comments about what these images make you want to stuff inside them - there are children present.) The beginning of the end, then, but still a worthy addition to the apocryphal bosomanical omnibook I just made up, The Tura Satanic Verses. (Let no bad pun go unuttered, sez I.)

7. Oh, so much to say about this scratched-up, ultra-gaudy piece of pubic zirconium from the infamous Spector/Cohen collaboration-cum-collision, Death of a Ladies' Man. So much, in fact, that I ain't saying a word. I've actually been assigned to write about this album for a book project, and it's probably best to practice a kind of tantric/Kundalinic meditative-abstinence approach to saying anything about it, in honor of Laughin' Lenny's monastic period. Better that than to shout my opinion of it while unloading my gat into some aging B-movie actress, in honor of... well, you know.

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