FRANK RIZZO'S HOLLYWOOD

Rip It Up, Issue 182, 1 September 1992, Page 33

FRANK RIZZO'S HOLLYWOOD

You know it’s Hollywood when you bump into Billy Gibbons buying plastic ants, and he not only remembers touring New Zealand but also a year old conversation about Memphis madman Jim Dickinson. Billy’s a happy man as current favourites of his, Ministry, have just released a new album and are riding high on the Lollapalooza wave. The show’s success (tickets sold out in less than ten minutes for the LA show) is great visible proof of how things are changing here in the great Babylon of rock and roll. It’s become increasingly harder for any bunch of midwesterners with hair and a nice line in attitude to get signed in LA, the Seattle thing has pretty much been bled dry (when they make a film about your scene starring Matt Dillon in a wig it’s time to rethink things) and the next big thing seems to be clean cut jazz buffs who sound like Black Sabbath having a heart attack, such as Helmet, Drive Like Jehu et al. It’s enough to make any A&R type give it all up and go back to selling used cars.

In the meantime, it’s best to just kick back and enjoy the diversity. There’s plenty to see here, no New Zealand problems with lack of venues, lack of interest in mid-week shows and so on. As an

example, just about any Monday night a very unlikely venue called King King (it’s a Chinese restaurant by day) will be packed with greasy rockers and West Hollywood glitterati alike as Def American’s latest signees, the Red Devils, do their thing. Rather than Rick Rubin’s usual AC/ DC, Zep,

Sabbath fixated babies these guys are just basically a straight live blues band. With exmembers of the Blasters and the Knitters in evidence, the Red Devils are simple, loud

and a lot of fun, just like the chi-chi lacquer decor of the club they’ve been resident at for the last few years. On an even louder note, another

fine mid-week extravaganza took place at the Fairfax High School Gym when the Rollins Band let fly for an all too infrequent LA gig. Ably

supported by Proper Ground (who Madonna has signed) and the very awesome Tool, the Rollins Band proved just why they’ve become stars — power, control and a sound that would truly waken the dead. On top of being in one of the finest acts around

today, Rollins is still finding time to operate 2.13.61 Publications and has just

released a reissue of some of his older works, and a book by the late Joe Cole, roadie and all around cool guy. The band will be touring down

your way later this year so prepare yourselves (for more info on the books write to Box 1910, Los Angeles CA 90078, USA). Add to all this the

regular parade of wannabe stars working the array of clubs and it’s a wild, confusing parade. At least it’s now possible to avoid seeing any bands wearing more makeup than the hookers outside on Sunset, so there’s no reason to complain. And hey, if this place is good enough for Billy Gibbons, it’s certainly good enough for me. In a town like this, a legal and relatively safe release from one’s aggression becomes a necessity. Most native

Californians have either had aggression bred out of them or simply kill people, but the rest of us have to find a

middle ground. For myself and a couple of buddies, it’s a visit to the Valley and the batting cages at a mini funpark called the Malibu Castle. The batting cage principle is a great one. You get a helmet and a baseball bat and stand in a cage while a machine fires baseballs at you at speeds up to 80mph and you just whale the things out into this big inclosed tent.

It’s a real workout and

stabilizes the week nicely. Most kids here go to raves to cut loose. Although not as much fun as the cages it’s a heap cooler. You need the correct look, which is the *1 got dressed in the dark in a skateshop where all the clothes are five sizes too big for me’ one. Then you need a ticket and a car so you can careen all over the greater Los Angeles area searching for a warehouse playing techno at mind jellying volume. It’s a lot

like punk in the way that it’s offensive and annoying to your elders and also in the way that you have to dress like an idiot. I’ve not yet

witnessed a ‘rave’ first hand but I’ve seen a Security truck driver carrying a handgun as big as my head and a bag of money bigger than me out of place selling the tickets and that sort of destroyed the peace and love vibe for me. Speaking of punk rock, it’s still happening and I was there, man. I shelled to see

rising stars Helmet play the Whiskey and what a wild time it was. There was the usual stagediving, boring, as it’s been on MTV and every metal bozo who wants to be ‘crazy’ does it (especially on a small stage so they can knock over mikestands, guitarists etc). Much cooler were the kids doing the upside down : dance. In this one you don’t need to be up front, you just invert yourself and wave those feet about. It looks great and no-one gets hurt. Oh yeah,

Helmet were brilliant but best of all were the young couple who felt obliged to try and fight the entire venue. Moments before being pummelled and ejected by security, they were being pummelled by some guy. The young lady involved threw a wild shot that missed its target but got me instead. It was cool in a crazy punk night out way, but I can’t help but think maybe the batting cages would do these people good. FRANK RIZZO