The Bomb Reunion Show
As a tribute to the late Sonny Bono, on the night of his untimely death I played a song written by him called "Needles and Pins" which was covered by the Ramones but originally was a hit back in 1964 for The Searchers. I only had the Ramones version, which I played as many as three times throughout the night. A few people knew Sonny Bono wrote the song but most were unaware of that fact, requesting one of the more campy, cheesey, bordering on novelty-songs popularized by Sonny and Cher, like "Dark Lady," "Half-Breed," or "The Beat Goes On." Honestly, as a DJ, my personal sensibilities would never allow me to play one of those songs unless I was going to fuck it up by speeding it up or slowing it down or mixing it in to a U2 song like "New Years Day," or a particularly shrieking Yoko Ono song or the theme from George of The Jungle , you know, the part that goes, "Watch out for that tree!" When a customer asked me about Sonny's death I did say, "It's really quite sad, U2 are my very favorite group." I also received an E-mail from fellow scribe Adrian Roberts with a list of Sonny bono jokes, the best of which was, Why did sonny Bono meet his demise in a skiing accident?
Because after being a mayor and a congressman, he wanted to be a Kennedy too. Chuckle chuckle. Sorry, I had to. But more importantly, give a listen to the song, "Needles and Pins," the Ramones version is probably the easiest available version to find (it originally appears on the 1978 LP Road To Ruin, arguably their finest, but check many of the greatest hits Ramones packages also) and is rendered very respectfully like the truly great pop song that it is. I knew I always sort of liked the song but listening to it more closely I started noting it's near perfection structurally, it's melding of certain folk/pop sensibilities with the emotional grandeur and dramatics reminiscent of some of the great Motown, Phil Spector, girl groups songs of that era. At any rate, Sonny Bono was a man of many achievements and "Needles and Pins," should be recognized as one. But that Kennedy joke was pretty good.
Speaking of dead popstars, a very famous one was overheard at the Club Cocoderie last Saturday night as the final band on the nights roster was setting up their equipment on stage. It was the greatest hits of The Carpentars, Karen's sweet unforgettable voice posthumously purring out of the P.A. speakers, and the vocalist of the band preparing to play, Michael Dean, saw me anxiously waiting at the front of the stage and leaned forward to proudly state that the tape playing was definitely his. As demonic/angelic as ever, Michael was laying down the set lists for all the band members and the lyrics for a new song front and center. On each side of him were semi-circles of as many as 10 seperate pedals or guitar effects and treatments laid out, hooked up and ready for guitarists Jay Crawford and Doug Hilsinger. The drums were set up and ready for the inimitable pounding of Tony Fag, returning to S.F. for a visit from Seattle, where he now resides. The assembled crowd was an amazingly broad spectrum of ages and types, many faces I hadn't seen since the last time the band played, but all faces aglow and grinning in anticipation of seeing a band they've remained loyal to even after their break-up. The band is Bomb, and after the reunion set they played that night, the aforementioned loyalty comes as no surprise, as does the number of people who saw Bomb for the first time that night and were completely won over. This was a show of shows. The response went beyond just a reflection of allegiance between band and longtime fans. People walked away saying, "Better than ever," or "Tightest set I've seen by Bomb," or "Goddamn...fucking A," or "Can you believe they rehearsed only two times for this show?" or "Rock and Roll doesn't get any better," or "MADNESS," or "That was the best Rock show I think I've ever seen," or "After a show like that I'm totally energized," or "I think Bomb is the best Rock and Roll band there is," or "I'm speechless," or, more than anything else, "Why the fuck are they not together? It's a crime! It's a shame." Then there was the ever optimistic, "After a show like that, how could they not reunite?" Good question.
I can't quite recall exactly why Bomb broke up in the first place. I'm sure there were many different reasons, some probably not open to discussion or of a highly personal nature, and others more obvious, like the unfortunate turn of events after the release of Hate Fed Love. This was the band's third LP, produced by Bill Laswell, who heard Bomb and sought them out as his next production project. At long last, major label interest was stirred up over Bomb and they signed a deal with Warner Bros. It finally seemed Bomb was getting the attention they so richly deserved, but lack of proper promotion, little or no effort in marketing strategy by the label at all, and Bomb not really fitting easily or obviously into any flavor-of-the-month indie/alternative/retro/grunge category, the record didn't sell well enough and Warner Bros. dropped the band. This all happened pretty quickly and must have been a huge disappointment for the band, finally hitting the major label realm after all those years only to be neglected then dropped completely. That may have had a lot to do with the band's split.. Sadly, Bomb's loyal fan-base had to accept the demise of San Francisco's finest, crazed, proficient yet unhinged, and sometimes scariest, renegade band of rockers.
Individually the members have not remained dormant at all, creating a number of new and varied projects, bands, and bartending shifts south of Market.. Micheal Dean's post-Bomb band Slish put out a really good demo tape awhile back, but I'm unsure if they're still together. Doug Hilsinger has a currently ongoing band that's gaining recognition called Waycross, and Jay has a band called Bite. However, the ecstatic anticipation charging the room like a battery, and the jubilance playing upon the many faces in the crowd at last Saturdays show was all about Bomb, pure and simple, and this crowd couldn't wait.
The band finally sauntered onstage, strapped on their instruments, Michael did his warm-up stretches and they gently slipped into the soft swelling intro of "All My References Are Dead." With just the first beat of the drum I remembered suddenly the magnificent force that Tony Fag employs in his drumming. The first beat feels like it was joined in progress, having already gained lots of momentum and strength and then you tuned in, like clicking channels and running into a Cowboy and Indian war in progress. He's a hell of a drummer, giving the band a certain visceral, gut tingling aggression, nothing benign or in the background about Tony Fag's trademark style. He's amazing. I wonder if he's playing drums in Seattle.
It's hard to analyze or describe something that's burning white hot and bathing you in a sort of deep warmth that not only feels good but is necessary for your sustenance and also stands to remind you of a reason to be alive, and as dramatic and over-blown as that sounds Rock and Roll in certain capacities has always given me a clear joyous indication that I'm put here, if anything, to feel the way I do when guitars, drums and bass hit levels of volume that for some are excruciating, over the edge of acceptable and a voice projecting truthful ideas and imagery that resonate with emotions you've felt, or darkness and cynicism and humor acknowledged when many would rather not, or things you wish you had said yourself. Bomb hits all marks with flying colors, like no other band ever has. How lucky for me!
Back to the show, the first song led seamlessly into two of their oldest compositions. , "I Loved You then I Died," and "Madness." A quick glance around the room found countless fans lip-synching along word for word which amazed my room mate Tish, a Bomb show virgin, that everyone knew all the words after so long. At the moment I was more in awe of the dual guitar assault of Hilsinger and Crawford, two talents so massive and musically instinctual it's a wonder that just one band can contain them successfully. They hit on levels of pure mechanistic synchronized pummeling that traveled the road all the way from sonic chaos and mayhem into a controlled and linear onslaught, confirmed with an occasional knowing grin to each other, after a simultaneous push of a pedal effect that whooshed a huge soundscape to a concentrated point like the head of a pin. It was magic. Doug seemed squint-eyed and a bit out-of-body while Jay looked particularly mischievous and both of them provided some new and fun additional vocals, some of them quite complex and arranged, some changing the gender of a songs refrain, some even presented acapella, punchy and rhythmic. I just kept shaking my head in disbelief and saying, "Goddamn..."
Michael Dean, as always, has an incredibly animated stage presence. The look in his eyes when he sings those words is all you need to see to confirm his skewed and original genius as a performer and songwriter. A few couplets of example lyrics would also help so I'm gonna list a few in no special order.
"The girl that I miss is just me in a dress."
"Eating the food that you find on the sidewalk/
wearing the clothes that you found in the street/
when will you be free/to take a shot at me?"
"Anna takes me in her mouth, spits me out in catholic guilt/
she would like to show me all the pretty things inside her room/
but I don't want to go in there cause all I see is MADNESS!
"You paid my rent/I fucked your head/you walk around with/
Band-Aids on your eyes."
"What did I do today/ I got the Monkey's drunk at the zoo/
wrote a letter to my sister/ gave a flower to a hooker/
beat off and I thought about you."
"God made me for little girls."
"Spending time in the hit me for a nickel booth/
she's counting colors on her bruises.
"We are the fire, on the candles, on the cake, at the party, for the end,
for the end, of the world."
These are just a few examples taken out of context, and all Bomb's lyrics are rich with a bittersweet, psychotic, familiar, oddly philosophical and often frightening quality that never strays from or forgets the subversive qualities that are necessary, inherent, and idyllic to the heart of Rock and Roll. If there's no subversion, there's no rebellion and if there's no rebellion it just isn't Rock and Roll.
Bomb's set reeled through all the faves and hits and even included two new songs which I'm happy to report were recorded a day or so later along with two more new ones, before Tony returned to Seattle. These four new cuts almost insure that Bomb will play together again at least once for the occasion of a record release party in the not so distant future, but that's the only word at this point regarding a full-on resurrection of the band, as shocking as that might seem for anyone who saw this astonishing show. Later on I spoke to Doug Hilsinger about the show and he said, "I think Bomb is the only band in the world that gets a crowd chanting "Be a fag," over and over when they've left the stage. What a good thing." "Be A Fag," is a Bomb song with a Chord progression of B-E-A-F-A-G and that message is the only lyric.
As I was strolling out of the club, my room mate Tish, a very little girl, turned and started to catch up with me and felt someone grab her hair and pull it. She turned back and it was Michael Dean, the one God made for little girls. They both smiled and said nothing.
Watch for your next chance to witness the greatness that is Bomb, I'll try to keep you posted. And hunt for their records and CDs which are getting hard to find. See one, buy it., you won't be sorry. Hell, get a tattoo of a bomb, I did.
