Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Brothers of Conquest

All the Colors of Darkness
Go-Kart Records

I had this Satanic 70's tuxedo once. It was black, with flared legs and a blood red ruffled shirt with big pointy collars like Ming the Merciless. I don't know where the sadistic designer expected you to show up wearing this thing, except for maybe a cock-fight, or an Italian snuff film shoot? Anyway, one night I got drunk and put it on and decided to go show it off somewhere. Imagine that, I ended up at the rock show. Half Cocked were playing, and I wanted to impress their foxy singer with my slinky threads, so I stumbled into the Paradise club, dressed up to get messed up. Nashville Pussy were headlining, and right in the middle of the night's festivities were these Kentucky fried rock savages, The Hookers. I was early, so I watched the bands' sound checks, and after seeing the boss t-shirts the cats in the Hookers were sporting, decided I wanted one for myself. I staggered over to the merch guy, and I said, "Hey man, I want a Hookers shirt, but I want one like you've got, with 'Rock and Roll Motherfucker' on the back." He says, "Sorry man", in that 'Aw-shucks' southern drawl, "Those are just for the band and crew." Then he tries to hustle me one of their one-sided flying skull shirts for 15 bucks. But you know, I'm drunk. "C'mon, man", I plead, "I'm out here on the front lines, I'm in the trenches, I need one of those shirts." He just shrugs. He can't help me, bro. "Dude, look at how I'm fuckin' dressed here", I point out, tugging at my double-wide collar. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not just a rock and roll motherfucker, I'm the Goddamn last of the rock and roll motherfuckers!" He did not sell me the shirt that night, but thus was the Sleazegrinder motto born.

What's this got to do with the Brothers of Conquest? Everything, man, because BOC were the Hookers resurrected and super-sized.

Whereas the original band was a Johnny Thunders-bolted swagger punk band that somehow mutated into Slayer on a paper thin budget- their flashpots were soup cans the night I saw them- The BOC took that same Satan metal punk n' roll premise and chainsaw sculpted it into an inarguably potent force of leather and spikes rock and roll. I mean, this is serious business, and BOC slams your skull right into their big ballsy hooks and yanks you around like a panicked Barracuda, hanging on by a bloody thread as they mess you up but good with sizzling guitar villainy and a lusty battle roar- these are Rock Star songs, baby, Buckcherry wishes they wrote these kind of catchy riffs and rousing biker gang choruses and death-defying redneck Hellparty anthems. The whole thing brings to mind a line from that other, reaper baiting BOC- "On your feet, or on your knees"- because those are the only options "All the Colors..." gives you. You'd better decide which side of the revolution you're on before you push play, because the results will be both swift and brutal. If you've ever wondered what 10 years of cheap drugs, horror movies, the road, Venom, Chuck Berry, and backyard Satanism sounds like, well here it is, in all it's ragged glory. All hail the Brothers of Conquest, for they will lead us to victory in the rock and roll war. Or at least to a really bitchin' beer party in the woods.

PS: And then the Hookers got back together. Life is a circle.

- Sleaze

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