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The only thing heavier than BLUE ÖYSTER CULT are the yawns they trigger when you listen to their records.
Posted by Rob Ortenzi on 10-Oct-05 @ 12:00 AM
YEARS OF EXISTENCE: 1971-present
YEARS OF DECENT EXISTENCE: 1974-1976 BEST RECORDS: Tyranny And Mutation (1973), Secret Treaties (1974), Agents Of Fortune (1976) WORST RECORDS: What, and use up my word count a third of the way into this month's column? GO DOWNLOAD: "Astronomy," "Flaming Telepaths," "Harvester Of Eyes," "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," "Godzilla" FILE UNDER: Science-Fiction Metal For Illiterates SIMILAR-SOUNDING DINOSAURS: Steppenwolf (minus the arctic-temperature IQ), Robin Trower (minus the tasteful guitar playing), Hawkwind (minus the electronics) THE MUSIC: BÖC's modus operandi was to make heavy music terrifying with lyrics that flirted with everything from the occult to fascism to tales of apocalyptic science fi ction. To their credit, early on, the Cult-guitarists Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser and Eric Bloom, drummer Albert Bouchard, bassist Joe Bouchard and guitarist/keyboardist Alan Lanier-tackled slightly more literary subjects than beer, bikes and babes, which may be a result of having famed gonzo rock critic Richard Meltzer in their lyricist seat. They contrived everything from their chaos-symbol logo to singer/chest-hair cultivator Bloom's "stun guitar" credit, possibly the biggest act of self-mythology in rock (until Fred Durst decides to write his memoirs). Nearly every heavy band from Metallica to Queens Of The Stone Age acknowledges BÖC for something or another, which immediately makes "da Cult" worthy of being submerged naked in a 1,000-liter vat of boomslang venom. WHAT THEY SAY: "If metal compels through brute force, then [BÖC] changed the equation, and at their best, they brought a sharp intelligence to a generally unsophisticated genre." -Rock, The Rough Guide WHAT I SAY: Forget parental-advisory labels. This shit is so tired, the discs should have a "Do not operate heavy machinery while listening" sticker on them. WHY YOUR (GRAND)PARENTS LIKE THEM: In an effort to rebel against their parents, they ate up BÖC's outlaw schtick-way after it was dumbed down ("R.U. Ready To Rock")-like it was bean dip slapped into Tyra Banks' ass crack with a trowel. Today, BÖC are of importance only to biker hags whose divot-riddled breasts dangle wretchedly between their navels, and their blotchyskinned, lard-stuffed, common-law husbands who haven't seen their shoes in decades. CURRENT WHEREABOUTS: Dharma, Bloom and Lanier continue to lumber into the present day, dragging along a gullible rhythm section who've been convinced they are getting the chance of a lifetime playing in dank-smelling bars to handfuls of sci-fi -obsessed osteoporosis sufferers. More cowbell, less relevance. -Jason Pettigrew |
