Bob shares The Story of The Wackers Part One

 

I was losing sleep writing about The Five Crazy Assholes (Our Personal Tour Name, and how we refered to ourselves more often than not), when I was gifted with a copy of the fan magazine this was originally printed in…and PLEASE, I cannot find the PM with your name on it and you deserve credit for this, even though I used the old, weathered scans of my copy when I couldn’t find yours, so get back to me and I’ll insert your well deserved credit. Okay…where was I…oh yeah, Yellowed with age and at wonky angles, I did what I could to make it presentable because you deserve to read this account because it was written by two eccentric and incredible dear friends who are no longer with us…although I keep them close to this day. More next Friday, but I need all you Wacker Friends and Fans to follow the directions at the end of the column….

Segarini – I (Still Kinda) Like the Beatles and MacMillan Loves the Rolling Stones Part Three

When adults started wearing Beatle Wigs at their cocktail parties and tried to dance to I Wanna Hold Your Hand, a lot of kids were so embarrassed and angry that Mom and Dad were attempting to join the club, I was surprised most of the parents were allowed to live.

How dare they love what we love, how can my stupid parents join the party and ruin our fun? Why are OUR Beatles sooo lovable that even OUR PARENTS approve of them?

…and in response, a benevolent and caring God created the Rolling Stones. From Part Two

Cameron Carpenter: The ABC’s Of Rock’n’Roll – I is for Iggy and Lou

It was probably this 1972 Mick Rock photo (Pictured below) that first alerted me to Lou Reed. I would have been 13 at the time and I imagine it appeared in Rock Scene or Creem! magazine. It may have been my first real impression of Iggy Pop as well, just being in the company of David Bowie made them both cool in my eyes. At that point I didn’t know who the Velvet Underground was and I didn’t own a Stooges record. Like any great artist Bowie led me to many others.

Frank Gutch Jr: Confessions of a Rock Critic (Or, I Hear Dead People)….

The best review I ever wrote, nobody read.  It was for an EP virtually no one heard and a band virtually no one remembers (outside of Sea Cliff NY, anyway) and it may have been the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back (actually, mine), the review which makes me wonder why I even bother with them.  There are only so many “if a bear shits in the woods” scenarios one can take before cracking, you know…