transmission from: [tyler sonnichsen]

Something that’s been increasingly prevalent in the news have been the indictments of numerous prominent figures on capital hill surrounding allegations of fraud and illicit transgressions. I don’t want to play parties here, but one cannot deny that a vast majority of those under fire are Republicans. Some say that this is all a big fire blanket for the rage projected at Washington since the start of the War on Iraq. Others, like myself, believe that these proceedings are a sign that our system of checks and balances is pulling itself up by its bootstraps, especially in regard to the 4th estate (the media) finally growing balls as a result of poor reaction on a national level to the disasters in the southern part of the United States. Either way, I think I should talk about my two key points of conjecture about the band Poison.

1)“Talk Dirty to Me” was created during a moment when the earth and the stars fell into a supernatural cosmic alignment and the universe opened up and allowed the band to create the perfect pop song. You remember in “Field of Dreams” when Kevin Costner meets a hostile James Earl Jones, and make some sort of reference to that concept in order to convince him to go to a Red Sox game to serve the mysterious voices he heard back on his cornfield in Iowa? This is like that. Except, instead of Costner and James “The Man” Earl Jones, you have Bret Michaels and C.C. Deville. And the other two guys, Bobby Dall, and Rikki Rockett (I’m sure you were just dying to know their names) were sort of like Costner’s wife and cute little daughter. Wait, no. How about Rockett was the old Doctor that Burt Lancaster played who never got a chance to bat in the Majors? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ll return to explain my theory. “Talk Dirty to Me” is the king of all guilty pleasures for me, and I can’t place any other completely indefensible song that I enjoy nearly this much. From what I understand, C.C. Deville joined the band, and hated all the stuff they were playing, so he showed up to practice playing this riff, over and over. Michaels, like Terrence Mann (James Earl Jones) finally came around, this song was a hit, and I can’t stop listening to the goddamn thing. Barely anything else they ever recorded is even listenable. “Unskinny Bop?” “I Want Action?” “Here Comes a Regular” by the Replacements AKA “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn?” What were the odds? 2)Bruce Anthony “C.C. Deville” Johannesson is an extraterrestrial. I mean, have you ever actually seen those VH1 retrospectives and looked directly into his eyes? There has so be some correlation to his altogether inhuman behavior and his indelible penchant for completely tasteless guitar solos. The greatest irony lied within the fact that the oddball was the one member who brought this band back to earth. Take, for example, the true story of my roommate’s old friend Earl:
Earl was the curious type. He crew up in South Carolina and soon made his way to the Allentown, PA area where he met my roommate Tom while they attended the same high school. Poison had originated in nearby Harrisburg, having moved to LA about ten years previous in pursuit of fame and fortune. Where did Earl intersect with the band? It just so happened that Earl’s older sister was quite an… entrepreneur in the world of hair metal. She had…closed deals with most of the major rock stars of the era, and according to my roommate, spent a little while dating Mr. Big bassist Billy Sheehan. Regardless, she was quite friendly with the gentlemen of Poison when they toured in the late 80’s, so she brought her brother Earl, who was about 10 at the time, backstage to meet the band. Upon spotting this renowned backstage heroine, Michaels, Dall, and Rockett immediately flocked toward her with a collective ambition for a gang bang…I mean, business conference. With lots of lube. However, DeVille immediately walked over to the two ten-year old kids. “Hey, kids, you guys should play in a band some day! It’s so much fun!” Earl and his friend just stood there, not sure how to respond to this rock star/cyborg-alien thing in front of them. “You get to hang out with lots of cool people, and play lots of great songs!” DeVille projected excitedly to the kids. (He said stuff along those lines, direct quotes are pretty difficult to come by in this situation). This pandering continued for pretty much the entire time Earl, his sister, and his friend were hangout out back there. Whether or not Poison went on to rock the house is in question, and we may never know the answer. What we do know, is that C.C. Deville changed the lives of a couple young men on that day more than fifteen years ago because he is from off-world. I’ve put a lot of thought into this, believe me.

Those are the only two things I have ever thought about Poison, ever. I choose to remain gleefully ignorant of the rest. In case you have a desire to read Bret Michaels assign meaning to a bunch of their hit songs, check out Poison’s Greatest Hits 1986-1996. It was a decade of decadence indeed, and Earl’s sister, if you read this: You’re probably living a fine married, quiet life now with a couple of kids, but you continue to be an inspiration. Like Billy Sheehan, we’re all the ones who want to be with you, and deep inside your heart, you’ll feel it too (feel it, too).

transmission from: [tyler sonnichsen]
The last thing I want to do is make light of what happened in New Orleans, Pakistan, Florida, and all of the other assorted places affected by natural disasters. They were terrible, I have a lot of friends who lost a ton, and we still need to learn the valuable lessons that this all has taught us. But, I need to register a complaint.

About four days after the fallout with Hurricane Katrina, I was wandering around in a store that had a local radio station on. And what was playing but the Scorpions' classic chunk of poppy metallic sludge "Rock You Like a Hurricane." What the fuck!? I didn't even know what to think, besides 'Someone's still playing The Scorpions!?'

I think the effect that ClearChannel had on radio after 9/11 should have taught these major-market radio stations a thing or two about decency. I mean, ClearChannel issued a massive list of songs that had nothing to do with planes, terrorism, or the WTC that led stations into the black hole of self-censorship. Sure, they were just "suggestions" but nobody clarified that the stations still had the power to play whatever they wanted, so long as they keep their content sensitive to our national tragedy.
Here is a brief chunk of the songs on that list:

• Dio- “Holy Diver”
• Queen- “Another One Bites the Dust”
• John Denver- “Leaving on a Jet Plane”
• The Clash- “Rock the Casbah”
• Nina- “99 Red Balloons”
• Drowning Pool- “Bodies”
• Red Hot Chili Peppers- “Aeroplane”
• Foo Fighters- “Learn to Fly”
• Steve Miller- “Jet Airliner”

Keep in mind there are many, many more where those came from. Those nine, among certain others, I can understand. But upon a second look, the 9/11 list gets a little questionable. Oh, sorry. I meant “extremely” questionable. And by questionable, I mean “bullshit.”

• Cat Stevens- “Peace Train”
• John Lennon- “Imagine”
• U2- “Sunday Bloody Sunday”
• Jimi Hendrix- “Hey Joe”
• Louis Armstrong- “What a Wonderful World”
• All Rage Against the Machine Songs

No, that last one isn’t a joke. Clearchannel suggested that all of their stations pull an entire band’s repertoire from the air, just because their songs asked viable questions of the government and gave angry teenagers something to scream along with when they couldn’t get a date to the homecoming dance. And that Cat Stevens- what a hell raiser! Listening to his manifestos like “Peace Train” and “Morning Has Broken” (also on the CC least) just make me want to go over to Capital Hill and break shit. Incidentally enough, last march, two good friends and I took a trip to Puerto Rico on Jet Blue, whereupon I discovered VH1 Classic on the mini TV lodged into the headrest of the seat in front of me. I saw a video for Stevens’ classic “Father and Son,” and turned to my friends out of excitement that Yusuf Islam finally made it onto an airplane.
Alright, I’ll get to the point. (Yes, I do have one). I would like to share with you all, especially if you have friends who work for the FCC or ClearChannel, something that has been on my mind for some time. The Official “Katrina/Rita/Wilma/Assorted 2005 Natural Disaster” Restricted Song List. Here’s exercising some sympathy in a time when it’s just as important as it was post-9/11.

• Led Zeppelin- “When the Levee Breaks”
• Katrina and the Waves- “Walking on Sunshine”
• Modest Mouse- “Float On”
• Scorpions- “Rock You Like a Hurricane”
• Jars of Clay- “Flood”
• Bob Dylan- “The Hurricane” (Yes, I know it’s about the boxer)
• America- "Hurricane"
• Suede- “The Drowners”
• Louis Armstrong- “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans”
• Carole King- “I Feel the Earth Move”
• Minutemen- “Storm in my House”
• Los Lobos- “Rita”
• The Band- “Ophelia”
• Vida- “Hey Wilma”
• Natalie Merchant- “Ophelia” (I think you all get the idea. Moving on..)
• Hanoi Rocks- “Underwater World”
• All Creed, Nickelback, Puddle of Mudd, Staind, Saliva (Not because their songs necessarily touch upon storms, floods, and earthquakes; they all just fucking suck)
• All Drowning Pool songs (they weren’t that great either, but…yeah)

So, I hope I’ve turned a few heads at ClearChannel. I could launch into a tirade about how they should stop ruining major market radio altogether, but 1) it would be too late, and 2) they’re ClearChannel, man. I guess all I have to leave you with is this thought: “If you think naming a storm after a female is sexist, you’ve obviously never seen the gals grabbing for items at a clearance sale.”- Kent Brockman.