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  Newsletter No 14: THE EROTIC HISTORY OF STRANGULATION

BUT FIRST: A hale and hearty welcome to all of our new readers. We cleaned out our lunch boxes and came up with mailing lists of OXBOW lovers far and wide and going back YEARS that we never adapted to the whole email thing and have now done so, so welcome. If you're NEW to this Newsletter thing, you might want to read a few of the older ones to get acclimated so that you know EXACTLY what to put on the goddamned subpeona when you're filling it out later. Believe me, it'll help.



  JOY RIDING WITH FRANK

3 A.M. Highway. Texas. Eugene in the passenger seat with eyes like Jolly Rancher candies: "I... I... feel GREAT!"

Greg: "Uh oh."

Uh oh is goddamned right. Like space shuttle "uh oh." Like Trade Center "uh oh."

Note to all: wildly rapid mood swings are nature's way of saying "don't let Eugene drive."

And mood swings there have been.

From:
"It's a dark time. Our moods increasingly reflect this. It appears that sometimes willful embrace of the retrograde impulse makes more sense than anything else. And so, here we are, fiddling while Rome burns. Too angry to die, I believe.The anger is both universal and totally lacking in usefulness. It's the burden of others though: I want to taste them but I don't want to eat them. Big difference. Of course I'm also bedeviled by sex demons, and so, the tasting takes on a decidedly focused flavor. Which is too bad. Because that's the worse reason to do anything. Or at least one of the worst. Sorrow, sorrow, soil. Always."

To:
"Not only do I feel GREAT, I mean Tony the Tiger fucking great, but I AM great, you know? I mean Jesus Christ, humility is for fucking degenerates. Look. Look at my fucking hair. It's beautiful. That and there are 1000 other reasons why the air I breathe shines like the sun shines. Your girlfriend? Yes? She's beautiful. Listen, I can ask you if I can fuck her or I can fuck her behind your back but yes, I think I must fuck her. How could I not? That non-duplicative experience. The endlessness of dharma gates with meaning running all rampant and wild from my eyes to her eyes. Fuck…I feel A-OK!"

So it goes/went. Possibly occasioned by the release (finally) of AN EVIL HEAT on Neurot records. THE RECORD IS OUT. THE RECORD IS OUT. THE RECORD IS OUT. Buy it from Amazon.com or your local geegaw store but just buy it. We won't regret it. You might. But we definitely won't. Regret it, that is. And it's not because of the cash. We see so little of the cash really. (Little when compared to what we're used to, what with all the coke selling and porno film making.) But it's the circle being completed that ministers to our "perversely hedonistic" (Spex Magazine) mania: We bring our dirty little show into your house, into your bedroom, into your head and it's almost the next best thing to being there.



  WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY YELLING?

EARLY WORD ON THE LARGE SAC'D AND EIGHTH WONDER OF THE FUCKING MODERN WORLD: OXBOW'S AN EVIL HEAT

"Today on Kerrang March 23, 2001 reviews: Oxbow - "An Evil Heat" (Neurot) KKKK (KKKK=BLINDING)"

"I was so blown away by this other band called OXBOW, that I'm kind of desensitized to the same old 'what a really cool band' stuff because the experience just ripped me open and spilled it all out in front of me to wade thru and try to identify all the stuff that I didn't even know was there, except for the little hints in the dreams and nightmares I've been having." - T.P., San Francisco

"The new album is amazing. I can't stop listening to it, the music creeps into my dreams at night and is always lurking in the back of my brain. I especially dig S Bar X. Regrettably, I missed seeing you gentlemen play at Mr T's bowl in LA on the 10th, managed to show up ten minutes after you played and I've been kicking myself ever since. Thankfully I was able to get a copy of the new album from Eugene. Hope you return soon, looking forward to hearing the sonic destruction of those new tracks live!" - N.K., Los Angeles

"I received your very intensive OXBOW (babulous and powrerfull!!) I'm very excited to play it on the air of Antithesis!!!" - D.R., France

"This is REAL 'emo' rock, let me tell you. Not indie-pop emo but totally heavy, insane, noisy emotionally cathartic art rock mayhem... WE think Oxbow rules... utterly fucked up, dark, hard, downright disturbing sounds! Yes, San Francisco's best kept secret have unleashed their long-awaited fifth album, via Neurosis' Neurot label (which is why they appeared at last year's Beyond The Pale festival, dropping many an astonished jaw even among the crusty, tough lookin' Neurosis fans in attendance). It's nine tracks of Zeppelin-heavy hard guitar rock melded to pounding noise and creepy ambience. Take your most intense Albini/Jesus Lizard mathrock, haunt it with Satanic blues ghosts, and top with the psycho-sexual theatrical vocals..." - Aquarius Records

"Listen to you sing makes me think of undescribable and unreachable GENIUS. And the lyrics are as honest as death, you can't fool that bitch. Masterpiece!!! The sound has surprisingly changed though. I guess those wrestling lessons made Niko a real tough guy. It's definitely more ROCK as it used to be, but still so fucking weird." - R.I., Chicago

"AN EVIL HEAT is perhaps the most flawless record I have heard since either SWANS' "Soundtracks For The Blind" or SIX FINGER SATELLITE's "Law of Ruins", which had only one bad song on it. AN EVIL HEAT needs to be heard. I will not settle for fuckfaces half-ass reviewing it with bullshit ideas and misconceptions of the music -- the right people can do it the justice it deserves. If SPIN had half the fucking balls they wish they had, they would immediately hail it as a masterpiece and the most important record to hit the market since "Amnesiac" by RADIOHEAD or the recent archival release by ROCKET FROM THE TOMBS." - N.B., Boston



  "If you're NOT ready for some HOT COCK FUN maybe now's a good time to hit the bar." - Eugene from the stage at Emos during South by Southwest (SXSW), 2002

And so we made it to and back from hipster heaven Austin with nary a scratch. Especially if by "nary a scratch" you mean "VD."

And we won't even do the typical too-cool-for-school thing of kvetching about how beat it all was: wallets with chains, slouching, smoking teens, and cellphoned hook ups to "the office" notwithstanding. I mean yeah, you couldn't throw a punch without hitting someone who clearly deserved it but we had fun (especially if by "fun" you mean "erections").

But "fun" is largely a study of contrasts and we had quite a few in the form of the abortion-like shows leading up to SXSW.

It wasn't so much that the people who booked the shows were bad. It wasn't so much that the clubs were bad. It wasn't even that WE were bad. In fact "bad" has very little to do with it. It was just that we put the shows together to give ourselves something to do on the long ride out with little thought to much else and in doing so we were opening ourselves to the great discordances of "The Devil Whose Hand Is On Our Shoulders."


  LOS ANGELES: Mr. T's Bowl, a converted bowling alley on a bill with Keith Morris (Circle Jerks) new band Midget Handjob. Should I stop there? Let's say not. Keith, unbeknownst to him actually was the first person to get Eugene on stage. Eugene in full on shy little girl fashion did not mention this to him (instead choosing to lurk in the shadows and after unsuccessfully trying to inveigle prescriptions drugs from the show staff for some crippling "neck pain" he was supposed to be having), drank red wine at bar end and chatted convivially with the bar maid (who it should be noted AFTER OXBOW played she refused to speak to him again. Noteworthy here for the great frequency with which this occurs).

Anyways, when Keith pulls out the bongos and the milk crate to sit on and their show BEGINS. We love Keith dearly but this, how do we put this without sounding impolite, this is like having your eyes cored out with a melon-baller. And not in the good way like when OXBOW plays. A member of OXBOW, who shall remain nameless, WAS overheard to say "these guys aren't bad."

Yeah. Sure. Not AS bad as the stand-up comedians who were sandwiched between bands. More on that later.

Anyway OXBOW plays and the sparse and scattered audience was gripped by a real and actual mortal fear. It was great to play in front of an audience of no more than 22 people who have absolutely NO idea that OXBOW is not a bongo and milk crate band nor will we have any of that smirking heavy irony that besets and besots the media mind like. 1000 bad episodes of "Friends."

This became patently obvious when the following exchange occurred between Eugene and one of the stand up comedians who thought it'd be great sport to make mock of Eugene in that disgustingly smug kind of "aren't those Negroes crazy" kind of way.

Bad Comedian: So, we had some WILD music up here tonight. Some guy half-naked, what's that all about?

Eugene: Fuck you.

BC: Is that a threat or a promise?

E: A promise.

BC: I can't wait.

E: You keep it up and you won't have to.



  ARIZONA: Club Hollywood - the promoter was named "Fun Bobby," which either means he's an asshole or the greatest fucking guy you will ever meet. We're glad to say he was the latter. He gave Eugene some pharmaceuticals for his "neck pain," set us up with food and actually did a little promo for the show. PLUS we got to play with some cool bands: VICTIM'S FAMILY, as well SIX SOUTH from Penn., and The Fleshies. Great bands, great club. 40 people.

40 people who again were not prepared for HOT COCK FUN despite the presence of a man named Fun Bobby. This was fine. If we can't get respect, which in actual fact we think NO ONE SHOULD get (jay-zus we hate all those ill-defined confinements: "respect," "love," "concealed weapon."), we'll take "fear."

But like Sinatra said "the best was yet to come". In this instance in the form of the local "wild girl" who attended the show with her boyfriend (natch). As the evening progressed she got drunker and drunker and then proceeded to sexually harass members of the other bands. Asking them to autograph her tits and so forth and so on. To their credit the members of the other band's were uniformly gentlemanly.

Yeah. Maybe you caught that. That "members of other bands," stuff.

Well like America's Favorite Car Chase scenes everyone in the know was waiting for the moment when she approached Eugene.

Wait wait wait. In actual fact only EUGENE was waiting for this moment. She finally accosted him at the stage door. We don't know all of what happened then exactly but we did see her struggling with her clothes and rushing back into the club shouting "you just made a big mistake" and Eugene chuckling "YOU made the mistake."

We should agree to speak no more about this woeful tale.



  TEXAS: San Antonio Club called STRUTTERS - "No suck rule 12: Don't play along with the house music during soundcheck." Offered by Greg Davis.

Okay. Look. The fucking club was named after a KISS song. The promoter tried to warn the good citizens of San Antonio but in the end, as you will see, it was altogether just not enough.

Anyway the first tip off that something was wrong was there were actually huge numbers of women in attendance. Strange, very strange, for an OXBOW show. And there was Bro Rock on the juke box - SLIPKNOT, LIMP BIZKIT, and the like. More women. Leather pants, sparkling halter tops. Dudes with wallets on chains. Anyways some band opened. They seemed cool. So far, so good. The guitarist from The Dazey Chain told Eugene "we're excited to play with you guys." It was noted that he also had on leather pants and a halter top.

OXBOW stumbles to the stage and it, as you know if you've ever seen OXBOW, is now officially REALITY TIME. The audience jumps back about 10 feet. Dudes are edging back to the bar where from their amber redoubt they can sneak occasional peaks at the band. OXBOW rages on. Stops. Shakes off and zips up.

No one says a thing.

It is as quiet as a funeral.

The promoter is giddy. "Hahahaha... I told them. I tried to tell them... MAN... I'ma gonna fuck my girlfriend tonight and be thinking about you guys. Give her a little OXBOW action... DAMN!"

So we stay to hear The Dazey Chain for a song or two. They sound like LA Guns. But a very very very BAD LA Guns. We leave to check out our friends in Lost Goat at a club around the corner. They are great (but you don't need us to tell you that). If you liked Raging Slab, Monster Magnet, you'll like them. We do.





  AUSTIN: Eugene's been searching high and low for Duane Dennison to give him a beating since he figures Dennison is well deserving for some insult he second-hand tossed Eugene's way. He's heard that not only will he be in Austin but he'll be at the SKIN GRAFT RECORDS showcase, which strangely enough is where OXBOW is playing.

Well long boring story much shorter: Dennison fails to show and the search continues.

But Austin was full of all other kinds of fun. We were told that if we played later than our 40 minutes they'd cut the power. We told them if they cut the power we'd cut their throats. We started 10 minutes late just to make sure we could do exactly that.

Genius.

As was the show - packed with our friends from The Takers (who played the next night and ended their set with a FULL-BLOWN DRUMMER TANTRUM that resulted in the stage being destroyed. More genius.), Lost Goat, and an audience full of people who had "seen it all" and were "ready for anything." (Those are trademarked rock world expressions.)

We play and it was, was... beautiful. From the guy in the front row who gave Eugene the finger until Eugene started toward him with intent to harm forcing him to smile as if to say "up your ass…in the GOOD way!" to the woman who was sticking things in the crack of Eugene's ass to the brave, brave, brave man who post-show was wearing Eugene's wet and stinking underwear.

It was supercalifragilisticexpealidocius. The Flying Luttenbachers, Pink and Brown, Arab on Radar all played too (there were other bands in there... apologies for forgetting them though). Truly.

On Hearing That OXBOW Will NOT Be Playing This Year's STONERFEST: Eugene -- "Maybe we gotta start smoking pot... fuck it. I'll just stick with the meth, the acid, the E, the K, the coke, the steroids... you know... the BASICS."



  THE SXSW AFTERMATH

Hi. Brandon Crowe here.

I'm friends with a "Crowe". She used to be a hooker in Chicago until an arrest, a sting and turning state's evidence set her on the straight and narrow. She is now a Christian. This should surprise no one. I don't suppose you know her.

No. Saw yall at emo's sxsw. Incredible.

Thank you sir.

I didn't realize y'all still existed.

And we're still not sure...


IF YOU BUY THE OXBOW T-SHIRT THIS WILL HAPPEN TO YOU

"After a few drinks, we went to bed to which I put on "An Evil Heat". I want you to know that I got head, fingerfucked her, and fucked to "shimmer", and what a fucking shimmering religious-like experience that was. Fucking awesome. Nothing like screwing to OXBOW. She wore her Evil Heat shirt proudly after that." - B.N., San Francisco

Someday. When the members of OXBOW lose their virginity, they too, may discover these mysteries of love.


A GENTLE REMINDER:

Let's not forget one simple thing: scrawny pussy rock guys WILL ALWAYS BE FORCIBLY REMOVED by large bouncer types unless they are brandishing semiautomatic weapons.

On the other hand, muscular black guys seem to be able to masturbate on stage and remove their sweaty tighty-whities with virtual impunity. - Chris Keene, THE TAKERS



  OXBOW Presents THE NARCOTIC STORY

Well we spoke about our movie (Newsletter No 13) and so it seems the last piece of our casting puzzle has fallen into place: we've cast the role of Hazel (well in actual fact she's still thinking about it). We'll not mention who she is until she signs on but we think she's perfect for the role.

In our erstwhile search, which had us accosting women, and whose passing we will truly mourn we enlisted the able assistance of The Deacon Gabriel Ferreira whose biting comments are below.

"Hello,

If you are receiving this it is because you are either a vamp or occasionally come in contact with one or more of these mysterious creatures. My advance apologies to you if you feel slighted by my appraisal. Have a wonderful Doris Day.

So...

Oxbow, a noise juggernaut from the Bay Area, is making a music video-cum-film short and is currently looking to cast 'Hazel', a femme fatale role. Or so they say.

My advice to you as a potential Theda Bara is to peruse their site and learn to what kind of depraved people you are introducing yourself. Actually, three of them are fairly harmless. It's Eugene I want you to keep an eye on. Sure, he's intelligent, smooth. Sure, he knows all about female empowerment. You get my drift.

I direct your attention to the newsletters.

Mr. De Mille

P.S. Please consider the wry humor employed above as a de facto disclaimer. In other words, I'm kidding. But not really."



  A CALL TO ARMS: HELP ONE MAN HELP HIMSELF Eugene's neck pain has reached crisis proportions and of course Mr. Hot Shot refuses to see a medical professional and the medical professionals he knows refuse to see him, so he limps along, neck bent like a rusty spigot. What we're saying is - let's all bond together and help him medicate his way through this thing.

If you have ready access to the following muscle relaxants; Flexaril, Soma; or ANYTHING else that might be good for a muscle spasming-nerve-branch issue please send them to:

CFY
Box 19271
Stanford, Ca 94309



  SUBJECT HEADING: QUITE THE LADIES MAN.

"Eugene-

This is what followed after I left the Angry Hate show last night. Karl is my roommate. Seth is in Angry hate." - Nick Blakey, THE TAKERS

Seth: Who'd you come to see?
Nick: You guys. You were great.
Seth: (Smiling, with his arm around Larry) You wanna spend some time with the guys in the band...in a certain way?
Nick: No.

A few minutes later.

Larry: Mike wanted to know if he should kick out that drunk guy who's bothering you.

(No one named Mike works at O'Brien's)

Nick: Who? The drunk guy?
Larry: The drunk guy who's bothering you, right there.
Nick: Karl?
Larry: Yeah, is he bothering you?
Nick: No, I know him.
Larry: Well, if he's bothering you...
Nick: No, he's not bothering me.

Seth: Well, do you have a car?
Nick: Um, yeah.
Seth: Can you give us a ride with our equipment?
Nick: Where?
Seth: Newton.
Nick: No...
Seth: Come on, we'll give you 20 bucks.
Nick: You could get a cab for 20 bucks.
Seth: Are you with that gay guy?

(pointing at Karl)

Seth: You're not with that gay guy, are you? Come on, we'll give you 20 bucks. Don't you want 20 bucks?
Nick: No, I don't need it.

Karl and I left, with

Seth shouting: Come on, yes or no? It's a simple question...you're with that gay guy aren't you?

NEXT MONTH: WE GO TO EUROPE TO DIE!


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