ARTS
The Michigan Daily Monday, October 5, 1987

Page 7

Necros.

Hair

and

guitars

galore

By Mike Rubin

Much hair will be thrown tonight
at the Blind Pig as local longhairs
the Necros take the stage by force for
their last area show before they
embark on their fifth national tour.
From humble beginnings in
Maumee, Ohio as a pre-pubescent
punk rock outfit in the early '80s
glory days of heterogenous hardcore,
the band has survived a couple of
personnel changes, an evolution
from no-holds-barred 'core to no-bar-
chords-held hard rock, and about 14
inches of hair growth in order to
release their second LP, Tangled Up,
on the Restless/Enigma label.
Despite having settled in Ann
Arbor almost four years ago, the
Necros have played only four local
shows since their arrival, preferring
to tour the U.S. over playing local
watering holes.
"(Minneapolis') Soul Asylum has
played in town more than we have,"
laughs lead vocalist Barry Henssler.
"When we're at home we're usually
just resting between tours. It's
always weird to play in your home-
town, because you know everyone
who comes to see you and it's sort

of like having your family come
check you out. It's kind of
embarrassing. The only time we do
play in town is right before we go
out on tour, like last May at the
Blind Pig before heading out on the
road with Megadeth, and this time
it's a week before we go on tour
with the Circle Jerks. It serves as
kind of a dress rehearsal for the "real
show," a testing of the waters before
we dive in, or actually, to dive in the
water and get wet."
In criss-crossing the country
several times, the band has racked up
notices in magazines as disparate as
SPIN, Sounds, Creem Metal, and
Rolling Stone while being virtually
ignored locally. They've played to
40,000 people in support o f
Motorhead, yet the local press
continues to deny the Necros'
existence. "The lack of local
recognition doesn't bother me," says
Henssler. "Being written up in a
national magazine has far more
impact than making the cover of the
Metro Times. It's like comparing
the wingspan of a fly to that of an
albatross. National exposure has
much more pull."
For those reasons, the Necros
will embark on another odyssey next

week like their recent summer jaunt
that Henssler chronicled in a new
magazine called Motorbooty. The
upcoming October-to-Christmas tour
will see them touch base on both the
West and East coasts, as well as
seeing them venture into previously
unknown territory. "We're playing
in Alabama," says Henssler, "and
hopefully the Van Zant brothers will
be there to get Southern-fried with
us."
With the appearance of a red-
haired Rapunzel and the demeanor of
a hyperactive homunculus, Henssler
cuts one of Ann Arbor's more
visible figures, along with Shakey
Jake and the wobbling Walkman
wanderer.Whether pushing course-
packs at Albert's or pencils as a
college student, Henssler is, well,
noticeable.
"It seems I can do nothing but
keep a high profile every time I'm
around, but it's easier to be known
as some 'long-haired weird looking
guy' than 'some long-haired weird
looking guy that's in a band.' I
guess I'm pretty visible when I go
shopping, but if I cared about it, I'd
look another way."
Despite catching some flack from
critics and fans alike about the

band's transition from short-haired
hardcore to long-haired hard rock,
Henssler defends the group's current
sound. "It was never premeditated.
We've always been into Aerosmith
and Kiss and Ted Nugent, even when
we we got into punk rock. We take
the music that we're into and run it
through a punk rock filter so that
it's got a lot more energy. It's a
little louder, it's a little faster. Our
evolution took time. It was never
like 'today I think I'll stop cutting
my hair.' Andy (Wendler, Necros
guitarist) never had short hair. We
were never 'oi' skinheads. We were
just punk rock kids with short hair.
Henssler takes pains to
distinguish his band from the
onslaught of hardcore/heavy metal
crossover acts. "We're a completely
separate entity from everyone else.
Hardcore used to be something
creative, but it isn't anymore. Now
it's just a cartoon. It's got nothing
to do with real life. The same goes
for speed metal. None of those bands
get the rock and roll joke. They take
themselves far too seriously. Or
attitude is that rock and roll is just
one big joke, and everyone should
See NECROS Page 8
1
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1104 S. UNIVERSITY
996-1811
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Ann Arborites the Necros will bring their long-locked guitar licks to the
Blind Pig tonight.



'Peach

brings Ireland

just a little closer

By John Shea
What is the first thing that pops
into your head when you hear
"Hollywood?"
Hollywood.
You hear the name, you think of
the cliched images. Fast cars, fast
women, glamorous stars and glitzy
films. Take your pick: Nicholoson.
Streep. DiNiro. Brando. Pacino. The
role call could go on forever.
Hollywood is the film capital of
world. Of course. The sun sets in the
west, doesn't it?
Now... Ireland.
Yes. That's right. Ireland. What
are you thinking of?
Hollywood. Ireland. Two places
as distant as the Earth is from Pluto.
S-milarities? Comparisons? Holly-
wood has no interest in making
potatoes. But Ireland, long dormant
in the film industry, is slowly

becoming lured by the sight of the
camera. And now Ireland has started
to play with it.
Eat the Peach is a rarity, a
release from Ireland which has found
its way to America. Distributed in
theatres late this summer, it received
positive reviews from the critics but
was lost in all the excitement of
American films such as No Way Out
and The Big Easy.
Peach has a very quiet, easy-
going charm to it. There are no car
chases, no damsels to be saved, and
no bombs to diffuse. Director Peter
Ormrod uses the rolling hills of
Ireland as the backdropo a universal
theme that not just the Irish can
relate to: the never-ending struggle
to better one's life through the
pursuit of a dream.
Times are tough. Jobs are hard to
find, there are mouths that need to be
fed; you understand the motif. The
focus is on two unemployed Irish
villagers, Stephen Brennan and

Eamon Morrison, who hang around
construction sites trying to latch
onto something. Their search is
futile, and discouraged, they hop on
their motorcycles and motor over to
the local pub for a brew.
While trying to think of a way to
earn a buck, Morrison is inspired by
an old Elvis Presley film,
Roustabout. In the film, Presley
races around the inside wall of a
giant barrel on a motorcycle (for
those of us who are not physics
majors, it is sheer centrifugal force
that holds the cyclist against the
wall) and Presley makes the barrel
the carnival's central attraction.
Morrison's eyes light up; he
convinces Brennan to build their
own version of "The Great Wall of
Death," so they can make barrels of
money and retire forever.
Brennan is skeptical; more so is
Morrison's wife, Catherine Byrne,
who would prefer her husband find a
real job to support their young

daughter. But Morrison wants to
pursue his dream, to "eat the peach,"
and Brennan follows him. What
follows is how the two raise the
money for "Great Wall," and the
almost seemingly inevitable
conclusion.
But Eat the Peach is not a
downer. One senses a certain gritty
and desperate tone throughout, yet
there is an irresistible, whimsical
touch in watching two grown men
trying to make a youthful dream
come true. Watching Morrison and
Brennan is liking watching a couple
of kids build a sophisticated tree fort.
That's cute, to an extent. Ormrod
establishes this pleasant tone nicely,
but he seems content to let it go at
that. One senses something special
about this "peach" and is enticed by
the aroma. But try to take a bite and
there's nothing there. Establishing
tone is great, but the story must go
somewhere, and to this extent
Ormrod is comatose.

Then again, maybe the story isn't
supposed to go anywhere. Like
Ireland itself, Eat the Peach just
seems to go around and around. But
this is an impressive effort from that
country, and perhaps it will help the
film industry there grow beyond its
infant stage.
The distance between Hollywood
and Ireland gets a little shorter with
Eat the Peach, but just by a sack of
potatoes.


presents
EGeri Allen
and Open On All Sides
Sat., Oct. 10
8 & 10:30 p.m.
The Ark
To charge by phone, 763-TKTS
co-sponsored by
e P.J.'s Used Records


Records

"The most exciting
pianist since
Herbie Hancock"


- Musician Magazin

L q__

Eugene Chadbourne
Vermin of the Blues
Fundamental Records
He's more political than The
Clash, more innovative than Sonic
Youth, and cuter than the dickens.
His name is Eugene Chadbourne,
and his new album is a
collaboration with Evan Johns and
the H-Bombs. This record, aptly
named Vermin of the Blues,
numbers fifty-some in Chadbourne's
released vinyl, and clearly shows that
he has found, and entered, a terrific,
new musical frontier.
Vermin exemplifies Chadbourne's
humorous stance on politics and
gives a good taste of his raunchy,
rockin', country/western musical
style. He rips on famous personas
throughout the album, making fun
of everyone from Marcos to Bo
Diddley, and backs up the lyrics with
instruments ranging from an electric
rake to a vox organ to an electric
birdcage, which he wears on his
head. He is different, yet there's not
one moment on the record which is
poorly thought out or unenjoyable.
The most appealing aspect of the
LP is the way all the instruments
mesh, creating a fantastic
conglomeration of sound. The best
example of this is a song called "I
Hate The Man Who Runs This Bar."
Chadbourne has somehow, in his
* worldly musical knowledge, snuck

Dumptruck
For the Country
Big Time
Dumptruck were never exactly

Aerosmith, but I can't recall them
ever sounding quite as wimpy as
they do on their new LP For the
Country. This Boston four-piece
See RECORDS Page 8

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