Search - The Memphis Goons :: Teenage BBQ

With a sound that pre-dated grunge by some two decades and, in turn, ignored the local influence of neighbors like Elvis, Stax/Volt, Sun and Al Green, the Memphis Goons were a unique growth of crabgrass in America s richest musical soil. This band, which came of age literally in the shadows of Graceland, did not sound Southern in any way. In fact, this band barely sounded human. Nothing like them was ever heard before, and it was thought that their entire recorded output had been destroyed by an embarrassed family member. This act of rage made it appear as if the Memphis Goons tapestry of aural madness was forever lost to posterity. But now, thanks to the recent discovery of the band s tapes in an attic, the cultural and musical legacy of this legendary trio can now be heard. Teenage BBQ (Shangri-la Projects 022: release date October 28, 1996) is the first full-length cd from a treasure trove of material soon to be unleashed onto an unsuspecting public. With a clear sense of purpose and an astounding vision, the Memphis Goons are undeniably the missing link between the Summer of Love and the Sex Pistols. Recording between 1970 and 1973, the Goons were somehow able to ingest all that went down in the 60 s and subsequently infuse it with the nervous propensity of a youth culture run amuck. Influenced by great garage bands such as The Sonics and The Seeds, band members Xavier Tarpit, Jackass Thompson, and Wally Moth piled the rawness of pre-punk on top of replicas from Trout Mask to achieve a synthesis unlike anything in popular music--or any music, for that matter. Indeed, while Nirvana may have never actually heard the Memphis Goons, it is frighteningly obvious that the spirit of the Goons remarkable cacophony is inherently present in the collective sound of these modern torchbearers. How did this happen? Could Kurt Cobain have been the illegitimate son of Xavier Tarpit? No one knows, but today s alienated and disaffected noise has nothing on the glorious caterwauling created by three middle-class white post-adolescents from the Memphis suburb of Whitehaven. The 20 plus cuts on Teenage BBQ tend to run together, achieving something akin to the sound of a trainwreck on acid. This music is edgy and very unsettling, and it ultimately provides the feeling that what we had here was a bunch of kids who were on the outside looking in, and damn proud of it. Out-of-tune guitars drone, voices weave in and out, basses rumble, and every now & then, a stray piano tinkles in the background. San Antonio Desert careens with an unprecedented intensity and a clear-eyed innocence that indicates that the only desert these malcontents had seen up to that point was on a map; meanwhile, the title cut rambles like a voodoo chant for some mondo Z-movie. Influences abound--everything from Black Sabbath to Velvet Underground--but, nevertheless, the Memphis Goons retain their own distinctive primitive soul. Little is known about the individual members of Goons other than names and hometown. What happened to them is unclear although part of their story can be read in Whump #1 and Rolling Stone s Alternative History of Rock. There are also faint whispers of a reunion, but like the Beatles, the Memphis Goons did it once, did it right, & got out. A reunion is pointless. What we have here, then, is Memphis mojo with a dedicated garage sensibility. In this age of never ending tedium and drudgery, the Memphis Goons offer us joy, pleasure, and inspired dissonance!