And every time we were back around Detroit, it would be a full house. It's nearly impossible to track all the early variations of Twisted Brown Trucker. There was massive turnover. That's because band members were saying, "OK, I'm not really getting paid from this, and he is. I was mostly a rap fan, but I still loved hanging out with the drunk uncles listening to classic rock. My friends were more excited about ICP playing in town that same night. I could tell he had a voice like Rage Against the Machine — that harsh rocker voice — along with his rapping skills.
Just this crazy dude. He had that cocky walk to him, the real pimp thing. I worked as a stripper. I used to tell my girlfriends, "Let's go see that rapper dude Kid Rock. Stripper music, I called it. That boom-boom bass, where you could feel it. It was dirty, dingy, nasty, just some kind of fun stuff.
We'd go to the show and dance, then go back to work. John on my blues radio show, and he went on and on about the midgets who were a big part of the New Orleans rhythm-and-blues scene, the whole carnival thing down there. I gave Bob a tape of that show to listen to on a road trip. Joe C had already been showing up at Bob's shows as a fan. Being the guy he is, Bob doesn't miss a trick. After that, he looked out at Joe C one night and a light bulb went off. Joseph Joe C Calleja was a year-old Taylor resident who stood 3 feet, 9 inches, his growth stunted by the coeliac disease that later took his life.
Joe C became an onstage staple of Rock's concerts, a dynamic, popular, dirty-mouthed presence. I wanted to book Bob there, and there was some worry that it was too big. I really put my ass on the line.
It was the first State show he did with Joe C and Uncle Kracker, and we ended up with well over 2, people. Joe C made the band more exciting. Bob was trying something new onstage, different people coming and going. But Joe C just stuck. Onstage, it was a beautiful thing. At the Detroit Music Awards in , we played with Bob. Ted Nugent was on the radio the next day ranting: "This Kid Rock character had a 6-year-old boy up there.
It's just not right! LEE: There was a family atmosphere around Bob. When Junior became the same size as Joe C, he could never understand why Joe C got to do stuff like run into the street, drink beer, leave with the adults. It was always hysterical. And that comes with money and connections," Rock told the Free Press at the time. That's the last fill-in-the-blank of "how to be a rock star.
You'll wake up that fourth day and feel like dying. He snaps out of bed ready for the party to keep going. And it's not that he's cheating — he's as drunk and stoned as anybody else. He's got something in his genes. One morning, we both woke up at the apartment after a couple hours of sleep. He was revved up and ready to continue that level of insanity. And it just came out of my mouth: "Dude, you are the early-morning, stoned pimp. I sang on a couple of things on "Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp.
I'm like, "I have a little girl; can you not publicize that I'm on the album? He had Joe C up there, starting to get the final elements of how it was going to look. It was becoming the well-groomed show he would later tour with. He'd run offstage back toward us, tearing his clothes off. There wasn't much time. You've got a guy throwing on a '70s pimp outfit — it was hysterical and hard not to laugh. He'd go back out in the pimp outfit with a gun down his pants.
And it was a real gun. Laughs You'd have to ask him if it was loaded. It probably was. If you went to the strip bar with Bob, you'd have dancers sitting all over. In those days, it was hanging out at Garfield's or strip bars.
When you went out with Bob after he started getting some money, it was great. Always crazy fun. LEE: It's well known that a lot of partying was going on. We were all rolling around Detroit for a few years. Nights would turn into days pretty fast. The bars, the hundreds of beers, the chicks. He was just a cool, fun guy to be around. But that shouldn't overshadow the fact that Bob was deadly serious about two things: raising Junior, and his career.
BASS: The partying just added to the whole thing. Same thing that made Mick Jagger. He was never out of control. He was always a great businessman, a marketing genius. SHAW: It was never about laying around getting stoned, thinking he's a rock star. He was constantly asking, "What can I do to top that?
He'd call at 3 in the morning: "Dude, I'll meet you at the White Room in an hour. I've got a stripper to help with a photo shoot. LEE: Bob and his boys dressed a little different — the windbreakers, baggy pants, high-tops.
We would take them to hang out in certain rock 'n' roll establishments, and not only did they stand out, we were sometimes told they weren't welcome. We knew we were too wild to be in there. But we start playing, Bob shows up and gets up there rapping. Fun night. I go back in the manager's office, and he reads the riot act. Don't ever bring that shit around here again.
You guys don't need that! That sound had not been on the radio yet. And they saw rap as some garbage music that was for stupid kids. We knew it could work. To me, it was like punk rock — we were building our own scene, and not everybody was down with it. We were hanging out with a guy saying it sucked. Bob said, "You don't know what you're talking about. That record is going to be huge. He saw the writing on the wall, where music was going, and he totally grabbed that.
His small house in Royal Oak was like a crash pad and record company. When I saw the operation in his basement, it blew my mind. The mailing lists, the street teams. He had a crew of people working the computer, doing things that at the time were really foreign. He understood at the very beginning what the whole Internet thing was about. A young dude in music, already buying a house. Not too bad. He had interns that would come in from different states.
He coined the term "Nuggets" and applied it to the era when "Garage Bands" first appeared on the musical landscape. It's only fitting that he now hosts a show on the channel dedicated to the spirit and celebration of "Garage Rock". He was born to be here Kid Leo is general manager of the Underground Garage. The Mighty Manfred is the frontman and driving force behind the Woggles, the garage rock band from Athens, Georgia that continues to release records and tour worldwide.
Periodically he takes his Underground Garage show out on the road, spinning tunes from all across the country. He has appeared in countless feature films and television shows, and sold seven million albums as a writer and artist. A working musician for five decades, he has performed around the world in venues from backroom bars to Live Aid. She shares her knowledge at the lectern in the studios of the Underground Garage.
A riot of wacky rock and roll! Slim Jim Phantom is the drummer for The Stray Cats—the most famous and successful rockabilly revivalists of the last 40 years. The longtime L. He also co-founded Dramarama and produced the acclaimed film Mayor of the Sunset Strip. He now adds DJ to his rock and roll portfolio. He was joined by his wife Laura in the latter, and together they run the fashionable Manic Panic Salon in Los Angeles.
He also dabbles in movie business dealings. He brings a bit of Hollywood to the Underground Garage. His childhood heroes were DJs and he now follows in their stead with a reverence for the history of rock and roll equally matched by a passion for its future.
Set Your Listening Preferences. Fees and taxes apply. See Offer Details below. The ultimate in entertainment. View Channel Lineup. A credit card is required on this offer. Service will automatically renew thereafter every month. You must cancel your subscription during your promotional period to avoid future charges.
The resulting music intrigued Andy Warhol, that broker between art, commerce, bohemia, and high society. The Velvets became the house band at his Factory, and Cale and Reed both have said they were inspired by, of all things, the work ethic on display there.
Warhol and the band—which by that point included Sterling Morrison and the drummer Maureen Tucker—also shared aesthetic kinks: deadpan, repetition, and slowness. The debut album that emerged from their collaboration was a work of extremity and confrontation, but it was also shaped by calculated marketing. Audiences and bookers sneered at the morose Velvets, and the Velvets sneered back.
Burning bras? To help keep your account secure, please log-in again. You are no longer onsite at your organization. Please log in. For assistance, contact your corporate administrator. Arrow Created with Sketch.
0コメント