There is a good chance you found us accidentally by using the word “taint” in your search (If you found us on purpose, you deserve our accolades). Of course, we don’t know what you were looking for, but you stumbled on a damn cool project. Look around; let us help send you on a musical journey. Here you will find a number of album reviews from the strange and extreme to the tame and mainstream. Our reviewers are a bunch of obsessive miscreants. Most of us are avid music collectors and have been involved in the music world for decades. A couple of us have been in or are still in bands.
There are no rules on Tickle Your Taint Blog. Our reviewers might make you laugh, or piss you off; both results are legitimate. One reviewer might write a glowing review of an album; another might tear it apart. We may have a new review every week, or we could end up with one every six months. This blog exists as a social experiment to build community among a diverse group of music maniacs – our reviewers and hopefully you.
On March 18, 2017,
legendary Chuck Berry died. He wrote numerous hits songs and helped shape rock
music. For decades, when he toured, he had local musicians back him at
concerts. Later this year, his first new record in 38 years will be released. Below
are a few reflections regarding Mr. Berry.
Class Warrior:
It was only after Chuck Berry died that I realized how large
a place he holds in my early days. It also makes me appreciate the musical
tastes of my parents a bit more. In the late seventies and early eighties,
there was plenty of country music in our household—there were a few gems there
(we all know who they are), but for the most part it left me cold. The stuff I
really liked was the late fifties rock ‘n’ roll like Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis,
Buddy Holly, Little Richard, and, of course and especially, Chuck. So much
energy, passion, and skill! Sure, he says “he could play that guitar just like
a-ringin’ a bell,” but it’s never that easy. Through Chuck’s music, and that of
the others (and more) listed here, I formed my image of what music should sound
like. I can still listen to “Roll Over Beethoven” over and over again. Not that
I do, but I could.
I can’t count how many times I drove by Blueberry Hill in St. Louis, the club
where Chuck played every month. It’s on Delmar Avenue just across the city
limit line in an area called the University City Loop. I never went in. I was
too punk, I guess. What a fool I can be. So be it. Keep ringin’ that bell, my
friend. You are one of the main reasons I have all this wonderful rock music in
my life.
Null:
Chuck Berry liked very young girls and got busted with weed
a lot. He is the epitome of the rock star from his particular epoch. However, I
don’t really want to talk about that.
Like The Beatles and others, Chuck Berry entered my ears at
a very young age. It seems like he was always present. Even as a kid, I knew he
had more street cred than Elvis. As a punk rock teenager, I found his music
redundant and boring; despite the fact that I knew his influence was unquestionable.
In my mind, he and Little Richard laid the foundation for rock ‘n’ roll and all
that followed.
As I got older, I delved deeper into his work and found that
he was much more diverse than I had previously imagined. Much of his music is
just fun and reflects the day-to-day issues and concerns of many teenagers in
the early 50s and 60s—cars, and girls, and rock ‘n’ roll. But, if you listen
closely, there are also remnants of living as a black man in 1950s America.
“Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” was pretty ballsey at the time, and was a statement
of intent and self-agency. When I first heard the song “Downbound Train,” I
realized that there was more to Chuck than “Johnny B. Goode” and “Sweet
Sixteen.” Busloads of diverse people are on their way to hell; it was a
precursor to AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell,” sung in a classic 50s rock ‘n’ roll,
Sun Studios, “Blue Moon” kind of atmosphere. Remember, this was the birth of
rock ‘n’ roll. The “wee wee hours” that appear in this song also appear a
decade, or so, later in Springsteen’s “Open all Night” from his great Nebraska album, which illustrates the
underbelly of the United States. The “wee wee hours” are a place of solace for
many people, including a black man in the 1950s. Sometimes, it is safer in the
dark of night. Often, this is still the case today, as the outcasts feel
threatened in the light of day. Chuck Berry is truly an icon of American music,
with all of its festering tumors as well as, its rebellious beauty.
In addition, I have always been blow away by the energy and
vitality I have witnessed in video clips I have seen of Chuck Berry live over
the years. Even in his 60s, he rocked the fuck out live. He died at the age of
90; I think he had a pretty good run. I think it is hard for younger
generations to fully appreciate his influence and importance. Rock ‘n Fucking
Roll. R.I.P. Chuck, R. I. Fucking P.
SoDak:
Unfortunately, I associate Oingo Boingo’s song, “Little
Girls,” with Chuck Berry. Danny Elfman sings: “I love little girls, they make
me feel so good, I love little girls, they make me feel so bad.” Latter he
sings, “Uh oh, it’s a mistake…Uh oh, I’m in trouble…the little girl was just
too little.” It is well-known that Chuck had some problems, which also included
video taping women in a bathroom in a restaurant that he owned. Nevertheless,
he was a master musician and he is owed much respect on this front.
Approximately nine years ago, I was sitting at home reading
the weekly newspaper. I saw an advertisement for a free Chuck Berry concert in
downtown, Raleigh, North Carolina. I thought, “Fuck yeah, we can go see the
legend play.” The problem was that was 9 PM and the show started at 7 PM. Berry
had already performed. Fucking hell. Disappointed, I spent most of the night on
the computer watching old black-and-white footage of Chuck Berry performing. I
always loved the stripped-down kick-ass sound of Chuck Berry’s songs. “Maybellene”
combined country guitar licks with rock and blues. His instrumental song “Deep
Feeling” resonates with the steel guitar. I love the groove on “Nadine” and “No
Particular Place to Go.” When I was in elementary school, I was obsessed with his
song “Memphis, Tennessee.” His guitar and vocals are perfect, presenting this
story of heartbreak.
Chuck Berry was punk fuckin’ rock. Watch him rock the fuck
out, while stiff starch-shirted youngsters sit clapping at his shows in the
1950s and 60s. Whenever I hear Chuck Berry, I want to jump around and go fuckin’
nuts. Not sure how the crows was so sedate. One thing is clear, Chuck Berry still
kicks ass.
Music videos
are bewildering and often a clusterfuck. While they started out as low budget
items, as the 1980s progressed, thousands of dollars were spent to produce
videos. Many of these videos celebrated the callousness, disillusions, and
gluttony that generally went along with the Reagan presidency. The first video
to air on MTV was The Buggles’s “Video Killed the Radio Star.” Videos became a
tool to generate hit songs. Countless hours were wasted by youth, hoping to
catch a video by a favorite band. Instead, ballads by REO Speedwagon and
Foreigner—just to name two—were forced down the publics’ gullet. For some,
videos were thrilling, as it was exciting to see rock stars in a new medium.
For others, seeing a video, especially if it was the first exposure to a song,
created negative associations, given the stupidity on the screen, usually
consisting of barely clad women, expensive cars, ridiculous fashion trends, and
endless parties. From time to time, the folks at Tickle Your Taint will share
reflections and what-the-fuck questions regarding specific videos.
SoDak: I first heard this song on the radio, and have always had a soft
spot for this song. Fortunately, Huey is also soft as he gets out of the bed.
Morning wood in those white boxers would be a terrible start to the video.
Strangely, the first two guitar notes sound like someone springing a boner.
Null: You’re right; it is a very “springy” guitar into. Huey has a nice
place. A modest apartment with a map of the world tacked to the wall, but,
considering this was his mega-hit album, he still didn’t get a bed frame yet.
It seems like a lot of work to fill the sink with water and ice cubes just to
sing a few lines.
SoDak: Oh yes, he goes in for the rock star, polar bear plunge to wake
up. The first one wakes him up, so he can sing during the second round.
Null: He didn’t seem that groggy when he got up. Was the polar dunk
merited?
SoDak: The guitar and keyboard players look very bored to death. They are
probably wondering how many times they will have to play this song in their
lives.
Null: If only they would have known.
SoDak: Yikes, the red suit—I think he is auditioning for Miami Vice, oh wait, it’s 80s rock n’
roll. That explains just about everything.
Null: He stole it from Loverboy or Sammy Hagar. Every time I see him run
out with the red suit on, I think of Loverboy’s “Working for the Weekend”
video. However, he is wearing black and red, the colors of International
Socialism. I’m sure this is the message he was trying to send.
SoDak: I fuckin’ wish.
Null: Look, it’s her. A dream on a bike. My 7th grade heart
just skipped. Isn’t she the same woman that is in their “Heart and Soul” video?
I loved her. He has a cool car; he is a San Francisco rocker, if I am correct
in my skyline identification skills.
SoDak: It is hilarious that Huey is such a rebel, as the suits look so
disgusted, as he jumps on the ferryboat. I suppose this serves as a foreshadow
to “Hip to be Square.” Instead of Bob Dylan standing there, holding que cards
with lyrics, the lyrics are headlines in the paper.
Null: Strangely, his bandmate is reading the paper and another bandmate
gives him Alka-Seltzer. They pretend they don’t know him. Oddly enough, we
don’t see them rushing to the gig. They are already on stage playing when he
finally gets there.
SoDak: The woman is everywhere. Coincidence, I think not—bicycle, boat,
audience. The problem is that Huey seems more like a stalker.
Null: The premise of this video is much more problematic than that, SoDak.
The subtext of this video has something to do with quantum physics. Both Huey
and the mystery woman are headed to the same destination—the gig. Yet, Huey is
rushing to get there in time, while the mystery woman is leisurely traveling to
the same destination—and yet, she arrives first, as she is at the front of the
audience when Huey runs on stage. At the beginning of the video they start off
at the same locale—he jumps in his yellow car, while she rides by on a
ten-speed bike. How is this possible? I would expect some New Age Quantum
Mechanic “types” to suggest that time is relative to how we perceive our journeys.
SoDak: I think they are stealing the entrance from the Blues Brothers, as he arrives late
taking the stage, during a guitar solo.
Null: That moment when you realize
your dad’s golf buddy is your drummer…and check out the kid next to the
mystery women when Huey gets on his knees and sings to her. The young man wants
some Huey.
SoDak: The creepy moment is when he dances and sings in front of her. I
think his dick is noticeably flapping inside of his pants—slightly screen left.
Oh yeah! He is hoping that she noticed it.
On January 31, 2017, progressive
rock musician John Wetton died. He played in King Crimson, UK, Uriah Heep,
Wishbone Ash, Asia, and Icon. In Asia, Wetton was the lead singer and bass
player. Asia’s self-titled debut in 1982 was the biggest-selling record that
year. What follows are a few reflections from taint ticklers.
Jimmy “Explosive
Diarrhea” B:
In the late 1990s, I was attending graduate school in a
small Midwestern college town. One day, in between classes, I dropped by the
one and only music store in town to browse the shops small stock of used CDs. I
started chatting with the store owner, and somehow we started talking about
Rush, which moved us onto the topic of progressive rock. I was fairly new to
prog music at that time. I got into prog backwards. I didn’t start with Yes,
Genesis, and King Crimson like other people. No. My first baby steps into
progressive rock were with the obscure bands Camel and Marillion. The shopkeeper/owner,
after listening to me ramble on about Camel, pulled out a record from behind
the counter by an even more obscure band called UK. For some reason, I didn’t
buy the record that day, but I remembered the band’s name and found a vinyl
copy a few weeks later. I didn’t know it at the time, but with the purchase of
UK’s self -titled album I was reuniting with John Wetton. Many years had passed
since I had bought one of his albums (I had and still have a 45 rpm single of
Asia’s “Heat of the Moment.” I also owned the full-length album on cassette at
some point).
I think the obscurity of UK is an apt metaphor for Wetton
himself. Few people, even fans of progressive rock, know who he is. But
millions of people know the songs he recorded with Uriah Heep and Asia. I
include myself in this mass of cluelessness. I didn’t realize until after his
death he had played on Return to Fantasy, one of the best albums Uriah
Heep recorded.
John may have been relatively unknown, but he influenced
multiple generations of progressive musicians. And, he certainly had an
influence on my musical journey. UK was more progressive than what I had
listened to previously. Camel and Marillion were somewhat mild in terms of
musical complexity. And Yes and Genesis (from the Duke album onwards)
were firmly aimed at top forty success. UK didn’t seem to give a shit about
fame. They were a super group of super musicians who wanted to make an
awesome record, and they did. They kept the lights on by playing with their
main touring groups. But, the first UK album will always be special to me. It
acted as a gateway album that brought me to many other progressive rock
discoveries and helped me to develop a love of jazz.
Null:
I really don’t know much about John Wetton, other than the
fact that he was in a lot of bands and he was a prog-rock guy. He played bass
and sang. I know he was in King Crimson, but my knowledge of their music is
weak, at best. Having said that, another of his bands, Asia, left a long-lasting
impression on me with their hit song “Heat of The Moment.” I always thought it
was a great song and crank it up whenever I hear it. It reminds me of a
particular time and place, namely middle-school in Arizona in the early 1980s.
It is a safe bet that this is the most popular song he was associated with. I bought
Asia’s first album several years ago as a novel curiosity to see what the album
that produced “Heat of the Moment” was like as a whole. I was baffled upon the
first listen and I continue to be. It has some of the cheesiest 80s synth on it,
some of the most perplexing soundscapes, and some interesting drum parts. It is
from another planet. I always kind of admired the album and disliked it at the
same time. I have kept it around all these years and still listen to it every
couple of years with the same perplexing impression. I guess this is what
fascinates me about the record. I’m not quite sure about it and I don’t think I
ever will be. I guess in some weird way I treasure it for this reason alone.
The guys were obviously talented and “Heat of the Moment” hasn’t lost any of
its shine. In the future, I may buy another Asia album. I don’t really want to,
but I probably will just because I know it will be challenging. I am sure
others would have much more to say about John Wetton; however, this is the
little bit of gum he threw on the sidewalk that has stuck to my shoe since I
was a kid. I think I’ll just leave it there.
SoDak:
In 1982, I was one of the million plus people who bought the
record Asia. I believe that I received
it in the mail as part of the Columbia Record Club. I ordered it because I
loved the first single “Heat of the Moment.” This rock-pop song is catchy as
hell from the opening notes and vocals to the chorus. The rise and fall of the
song was captivating, the keyboards were nicely incorporated on this track, and
the sense of yearning was intriguing. When the record was delivered, I
immediately ran off to my room to listen to it. As “Heat the Moment” started I
smiled. There is an interesting sense of comfort I get when I hear this song. I
also liked “Only Time Will Tell.” But as the record went on, I became less
interested and confused. I am not sure why. It could be that I did not have an
ear for prog-rock elements at the time. But even today, I think the opening two
tracks are by far the most enjoyable songs on the record.