Texas Terri and the Stiff Ones
Eat Shit +1
Junk
The thing about Texas Terri, and this sorta becomes apparent from the CD cover, is that her physical appearance personifies the sleazier, messier side of rock and roll. What it (rock and roll, that is) was always meant to be – Iggy and the Stooges, The Plasmatics, Tribe 8, The Mentors, et al. But the scary thing about Terri, and I’ve been checkin’ out a fair number of pictures of her recently as a necessity of pure rock idolatry, and I SWEAR that this goes beyond any sort of pinup nonsense, is that she’s pretty damn near got one up on Iggy Pop. I’m talking classic Raw Power Iggy. She’s transcending sexuality, she’s transcending punk rock, she’s personifying this bastard primal essence of what rock and roll is or should be. The photos DON’T LIE, check it out – Terri’s covered in sweat, ribs sticking out, tattoos, hair plastered to her face, cavernous eyeliner, leather pants pulled down, topless save for the Wendy O. Williams strategically-positioned duct tape, no movement wasted, just looking like she’s going to fucking burst right out of her skin. Um, street walking cheetah? This was prophesied, ya know. Skeptical? You look at these pictures and you try to dispute that something elemental is being tapped into, some plateau of sexy reptilian androgyny is being reached that maybe even Iggy Stooge couldn’t get too. Terrifying and exhilarating, I’m telling you. Fuck off, this is serious shit if she’s one up on fucking Iggy.
How about the music? How about the band? Are the boys able to get one up on James Williams and the Asheton brothers? Are we faced with a total idolfuck revolution? Thankfully, no. It’s potent punk & rock (no pop) that puts me in the mood for Johnny Thunders and The Misfits. Very suspicious and dirty music, with lyrics that call to mind every tough-as-nails metal girl that I went to high skool with and a damaged voice that is way more convincing than many rockers on either side of the gender fence. Dude, she would so totally break Steven Tyler’s legs•
Junk Records, 7071 Warner Ave F. PNB 736, Huntington Beach, CA 92647-5495
