CRETIN BULL, 2/83
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[This interview took place on 1/29/83 and features several photos
 by Bill Daniels.]

                                   MISFITS AT THE RITZ!

Like a tidal wave of white noise, the Misfits overwhelmed the throngs 
of anti-punk humanity Saturday night (January 29th) at the Ritz.

The evening started out with the Droogs doing an unusually hot set. 
They left the stage, however, on a seemingly angry note. The 
Offenders took over next with JJ in prime form. His uncontrollable 
animalism and maniacal mongoose energy reminded me of Henry Rollins.

Les Big Boys did their Big Boy stuff next. By this time the hall was 
packed literally to the rafters, so the crowd got really jumpy when 
the brass section made their first appearance in months.

And then, after all that, the aforementioned Misfits came on and took 
over. Robo, ex-Black Flagger, pounded away with Roman Centurion 
peacock pride. The Only brothers (Doyle and Jerry) thundered away at 
their guitars, churning out the horror rock stuff that they're so 
proud of.

At first, the terrible rhythms and anti-melodies were totally 
indiscernable from one perpetual blast of droning thunder. But later, 
as the ear became used to the onslaught of musical TNT, everything 
fell into place, making for an excellent show.

The Misfits performed an extra long set with enough energy for seven 
bands. It was the first time we've seen the Ritz in operation for a 
while; I hope we get to see more of it soon. I hope we again see the 
Misfits soon too.

Talked to the bassist Doyle Only after the show. Check it out:


Bull: How do you like playing in places like Texas?
Doyle: Tonight was great.
Bull: I heard that ya'll met in a gymnasium: is that true?
Doyle: Well, uh...
Bull: We want to know how much you can bench press. Do you bench?
Doyle: No.
Bull: I thought for sure...
Doyle: No. The last time we went on tour, the police down in New 
Orleans stole all our weights. We had weights in our truck. They 
stole that and our cameras.
Bull: Tell us what happened in the cemetary in New Orleans. Are you 
planning to go to the graveyard here?
Doyle: No, we're not doing that anymore. (general laughter) It cost 
us 300 bucks. We made 300 bucks playing in New Orleans and we had to 
give it to the cops. We got good publicity out of it, but fuck that, 
you know...
Bull: How did ya'll run in with Robo?
Doyle: Well, we were just in the market for a drummer. We were on 
tour two years ago and our other drummer, Googy, he said that we was 
going to split the band. He didn't get along with Glenn so well. They 
didn't hit it off, so he said that after this tour he was gonna 
leave. We just put out an APB for somebody and Robo called and said 
"hey, it's Robo..."
Bull: When did ya'll meet the Big Boys?
Doyle: The first time I met them was when we played the Island last 
time in Houston...
Bull: Ya'll seem to hit it off pretty well...
Doyle: Oh yeah, they're all great. Pretty much everybody that, you 
know, is in the scene...uh, Black Flag, everybody...we're friends 
with everybody. Except the Dead Kennedys; we hate them.
Bull: Why?
Doyle: They're a bunch of assholes; Jello's a jerk.
Bull: What do you say to people who say you're imitating Kiss and 
stuff like that?
Doyle: Well, that just show the state of their knowledge of music.
Bull: How do you find Slash?
Doyle: Slash does nothing; they're a useless record company. Anybody 
who deals with Slash is out of their fucking mind. We came to them 
with a tape, the album cover; we gave them the whole thing in a 
package deal. We just brought it right down, put it on their desk; 
and all they had to do was have it made. They didn't kave to do 
fucking nothing. And, you know, how they come up and tell us "hey, 
you guys owe us money..." We owe you money? What the fuck are you 
talking about? We almost tore up their office on them and stuff...
Bull: I noticed you got some bad press in California for a little 
mishap or something; care to comment? (Notice the skillfull manner in 
which Jake 2000 avoided actually naming any of the unpleasant 
details...) 
Doyle: Well, we don;t take shit like a lot of people take shit...
Bull: What happened?
Doyle: We were up there, busting our butts for the crowd, you know; 
and then they start target practice with beer cans...People throwing 
full cans of beer at you; eventually it came to the point where we 
said "yeah, fuck you..." And...we handled it.

(Bull note: The tape ran out strategicall, but Doyle apologised for 
what happened.)

  by Jake 2000.
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The Misfits have managed to assemble almost everything I dislike or 
avoid -- their shells are huge and muscular, the result of much 
he-man efforts, their rude leather and spikes lavishly expensive, 
their live shows deafen the ears for about 30 hours, their daddy 
flies them home after every weekend, they even beat up a kid in his 
feable attempt to empathize with the band.

However, despite all these bad points against bad eggs, the Misfits 
are still fun to watch; they transmit so much energy that you can't 
help but enjoy their shows, (assuming you weren't part of the mass 
exodus who fled with pained ear drums).

This is no horror rock as everyone claims it to be. This is just 
loud, fast metal played with subtle danceable rhythms. Their music is 
barely even disguised to conceal it's true nature -- heavy metal in 
used leather drag. But it's good metal nonetheless.

But what they do conceal beneath their devilish appearance is the 
fact that they're really nice guys with regular jobs during the week 
who probably wouldn't ghoulishly rape you on the first date, 
(assuming you would ever date a Misfit). This image I am 
extrapolating from Doyle, the bass player, who was eager to talk, 
friendly, articulate, a good egg.

We bombarded him after the show with questions, all asked at random, 
hardly allowing him to answer. So it's a little jumbled and not much 
is elaborated upon. Cretin Bull again exceeds the limits of 
journalism.

  by the Sister.

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