BLUE OYSTER CULT 8/7, NAVY PIER I went out and bought Secret Treaties, Agents of Fortune, and Tyranny and Mutation–on CD this time–to see just how glorious these smart-ass Long Islanders’ glory days had actually been. Turns out I was a lot smarter in junior high than I remember. BOC’s catchy, intricate hard rock still sounds pretty good, and their complex yarns–conspiracy theories involving demented bikers, Lovecraftian sea creatures, the side effects of radiation, and Nazis from outer space–place them down the hall from Funkadelic in the pantheon of pioneers of Roswell rock. What until recently was BOC’s swan song, 1988’s Imaginos (Columbia), brought the original lineup together for the first time in years, then tore it apart. Drummer and bassist Albert and Joe Bouchard and producer-manager-songwriter Sandy Pearlman remain gone, and the band’s current guest lyricist, cyberhorror writer John Shirley, isn’t quite on a par with the luminaries who’ve contributed in the past–including gonzo critic Richard Meltzer, Patti Smith (who dated keyboardist Allen Lanier in the 70s), and sci-fi author and Hawkwind collaborator Michael Moorcock. But Lanier, vocalist-guitarist Eric Bloom, and, most important, lead guitarist Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser are hanging in there, and though their brand-new Heaven Forbid (on CMC International, the label responsible for resurrecting Styx, Night Ranger, and Loverboy) probably won’t win too many new fans, it won’t deeply embarrass old ones either.
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MOE TUCKER 8/11, THURSTON’S In a fanzine interview not too long ago, Moe Tucker recounted how, upon finally meeting her longtime idol Bo Diddley, she addressed him as “Mr. Diddley.” That was back when she was still drumming for the Velvet Underground, but even today there are vestiges of that polite innocence about the most pleasant person in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. You can still write to her at her Georgia post office box, order a CD directly from her, and get a friendly note back into the bargain. Her solo work ranges from celebrations of 60s girl-group pop to crude, high-spirited homages to Diddley and her own past as the nice Catholic girl in the eye of the hurricane (with guest appearances by her old VU cohorts as well as young sprouts like Sonic Youth). She’s a friendly, naive-sounding singer and a functional rhythm guitarist, but her true genius is the beat. Deceptively simple, tribal, and propulsive, it’s a raw, true sound that doesn’t require any other living legends to achieve liftoff–last fall at Empty Bottle she lent her talents to mediocre D.C. popsters Magnet, who had to outdo themselves just to keep up with her. Her latest project is an appearance on Not Dogs…Too Simple (A Tale of Two Kitties), a wry, satirical CD for children and with-it adults by Atlanta songwriter Mark Harper. Narrated by Ian Dury, the tale features Tucker as the voice of Luis, a sheltered “collar-wearing member of the feline bourgeoisie” who longs for adventure. (Cindy Wilson of the B-52’s is the voice of Luis’s human; the 32-page booklet was illustrated by singer-songwriter Jack Logan, who drew the seminotorious “Pete Buck” comics of the mid-80s.) Judging from reports of other recent shows, at this appearance, set up by the Chicago Underground Film Festival, Tucker and her backing band will probably shuffle around between drums, guitars, and vocals on a broad selection of her tunes.
