Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Re-Discovering 'Diamond' Dave


Just so everyone knows I'm not a complete hater out here exclusively spouting negative shit into the internet void about overrated wrestlers; I'm here today to preach about my rediscovery of the greatness of Van Halen, thanks to the never-ending source of joy that are the used-vinyl bins in America's ever-dwindling supply of REAL record stores.

I was watching Anthony Bourdain's 'No Reservations' on Demand, sometime last month, and while it was loading, I caught a trailer for Zombieland that featured VH's "Everybody Wants Some." I hadn't heard that song in so long and I was pleasantly surprised by how kickass it sounded after all this time.
I used to own Women and Children First (the album that features "Everybody...) on cassette, which has long since disappeared, and jam it all the time. See, vinyl and I got off on the wrong foot even back then. I'm (sadly) old enough to remember when National Record Mart (existed) and the Columbia Record Club actually still peddled vinyl, but it seemed so fragile and cumbersome that tapes quickly became my youthful recorded medium of choice. They were pocket-sized and reasonably durable, so that was that.
Back to "Everybody Wants Some"...I made a mental note to at least buy that song from Amazon but, when I did my weekly record store used vinyl bin reconnaissance, I'll be damned if there wasn't a copy of Women and Children First in above average condition for only $4!!
It was like 'Diamond' Dave smiled down through the cosmos and placed a spare copy of this album there, right when I needed it most, to perfectly compliment the first days of Spring, which we were joyously experiencing here in Parts Unknown, thereby helping me share just a small version of his Eternal California of the Mind.
A slightly more beat-up version of their first album was also in the bin for $3.

I always hear people talking about "swagger" in regards to music, usually in reference to hip-hop, but I rarely ever hear true undeniable examples of it.
The original incarnation of Van Halen oozes with it, though. They couldn't be lumbering, self-conscious and/or clumsy if they tried. David Lee Roth literally has a better flow than most of these pathetic nowadays ringtone MCs, too.
The rhythm section locks into these effortlessly swinging grooves that provide a smooth, sturdy foundation for Eddie and Dave to swagger through the tunes in their own unique ways.
They get unfairly lost in the shuffle due to the strength of the personalities on the front-line. The solid interplay between the rhythm section is also highlighted by the powerfully clean production, which suits this particular band perfectly. I usually like a more dirty, gritty production style, but I don't think it would work here. It would actually subtract from the songs.
Michael Anthony's vocal harmonies are definitely an under-appreciated ingredient in the surprisingly strong hooks found on Women and Children First. I just read that he was actually singing lead in a band called Snake when the Van Halen brothers first bumped into him. That whole reunion tour smelled funny to me after I realized he wasn't on board.
Anyways..."Fools" is a great example of the harmonies I'm talking about.
I've been spinning my way through the first 2 albums as well. Great stuff.
I think I like "Spanish Fly" more than "Eruption."

This re-discovery has been a really roundabout and circular process, because the video for "Panama" was one of the first things that hooked me on rock and, by extension, metal.
Van Halen became my first "favorite" band at the ripe-old age of 9.
My cousin Michelle and I actually wrote letters to Van Halen and asked for god knows what: T-Shirts or something, I guess.
She actually became instrumental in my musical development because she's the one who bought me the aforementioned cassette copy of Women and Children First (Christmas Gift), and more importantly she took me to my first concert: Van Halen...on the 5150 Tour.
Yeah...I missed 'Diamond' Dave by one year, one tour.
Oh well...It was still a life-altering experience. I even remember the date: May 13th, 1986 at the soon to be departed Pittsburgh Civic Arena.
We were on the left side of the stage and Sammy Hagar kept coming over and rocking out near us. I also remember that he went on about how his high-school football team were also called "the Steelers."
I'm pretty sure they played "Panama."
I actually like some of the Hagar era stuff and I wouldn't take this memory back for anything...but of course:
It would have been sick to catch the original line-up in fighting form.
It's amazing the number of great, mind-blowing, life-affirming shows I've been lucky enough to see over the years, yet I still can recount and recall the ones that got away.
The biggest one of those, that I will never stop kicking myself for missing is:
Slayer/Motorhead and Overkill at City Limits in 1988. I was still too young to go to shows by myself and wasn't old enough to drive there anyway.
Damn...

It's good to be back where I started. For now anyway.



Monday, March 29, 2010

"The Kevin Federline of Pro Wrestling" Part II


Part I

I didn't watch the show last night but while reading the recaps someone noted that there was a "TRIPLE H FEARS DIVORCE" sign displayed prominently from the audience.

I left off the last post trying to figure out why Ric Flair is so certain Triple H could've drawn money and been successful in the territorial era. His ring work is solid but rarely memorable to my eyes.
Yet he's always put in the same breath as people like Shawn Michaels, the Undertaker and Bret Hart by WWE brass, but whereas I can think of at least 5 incredible, unforgettable matches off the top of my head that those guys have been a part of: Triple H...nah, not really, despite main eventing every card since 1981. As I've said I can recall 2. I watched matches between him and Chris Jericho recently, and his cage match from 2003 against Kevin Nash. These matches weren't bad, they were even entertaining at times, but were they the work of a "legend" at his peak? Absolutely not. Were they pieces of wrestling history like Shawn and Undertaker's Hell in the Cell match, or Steve Austin and Bret Hart's "I Quit" match? Not even close.
Does Triple H honestly have a match like that on his resume? I don't think so.

Would he have used his sterling mic skills and infectious charisma to get over in the territorial era, say in Mid-Atlantic?
I mean, Triple H comes off as so overwritten, forced and stiff. To be fair, though, Mick Foley and Ric Flair have both complained that everything on WWE is overwritten these days.
But going back to charisma and microphone skills, Triple H is average at best, eye-rollingly terrible at worst.
Again, I can't think of single Triple H promo after thousands of hours of mic time over the years that was funny, emotional, intense or even memorable 5 minutes after it was over. He was, of course, in the infamous WWE necrophilia skit that Linda Mac has somehow successfully explained away in her bid to win the Connecticut Republican Primary and a chance for Chris Dodd's Senate seat.
Those DX skits from their last 2 incarnations were the epitome of pitiful "comedy" the current writers are so devoted to. The only reason DX ever even got over initially is because Shawn Michaels was in his prime and capable of a 5 star match every time he got in the ring. Triple H was a hanger-on/mid-card diversion, but then the big hook-up happened and all of a sudden "the baddest man of the planet" emerged and has plagued us ever since.
Wrestlers can get over with either great in-ring work or a great personality that they can express on the microphone. Some, like Ric Flair and Shawn Michaels, have both.
By that criteria I just don't see how Triple H, without the McMahon Machine behind him, could have gotten over completely on his own like Ric Flair insists, and I really don't see what the difference between someone like him and Christian or Hardcore Holly would be if he wasn't a McMahon.
This is not to say he wouldn't be successful in the wrestling industry at all. Of course he's talented enough to make a living in wrestling. My argument is that without certain advantages I seriously doubt he'd have earned the status to headline multiple Wrestlemanias and I'm certain that without those advantages and their reach we wouldn't be constantly hand-sold the fiction that he's a "legend."

Sunday, March 28, 2010

"The Kevin Federline of Pro Wrestling" Part I.


It's Definitely Not Him
pic via stuntgranny.files

Last spring I read a book written by James Guttman called "World Wrestling Insanity Presents: Shoot First...Ask Questions Later." It was a good read, filled with great stories alongside some hard-won insights. Guttman started the site World Wrestling Insanity and then went on to record "shoot" interviews with wrestling stars past and present. "Shoot First..." was basically a chronicle of what he did and, perhaps more importantly, didn't learn about the business after conducting so many in-depth interviews, many of them with industry heavyweights such as Eric Bischoff, Kevin Nash and Bobby Heenan, to name just a few. I picked this book off the shelf when searching for the Jake Roberts quotes I used here. Going through it again I became absorbed, and then all of a sudden these words exploded like shrapnel from the page:

Hunter is the male version of a blonde bitch going to Hollywood and fucking her way to the top...He's basically the Kevin Federline of Professional Wrestling. If it wasn't for who he's married to...he wouldn't be in the business. I mean, look where he started. He actually started in WCW as Terra Ryzin. And then he was doing 30-second jobs for the Ultimate Warrior. And all of a sudden he starts banging the boss's daughter and, all of a sudden, he's supposed to be the baddest man on the planet? I mean, come on...It's a joke.
Shoot First...Ask Questions Later p.88

Those words were uttered by none other than Big Poppa Pump: Scott Steiner.
You can listen to the entire interview here. It costs a small fee, but their library is extensive and impressive.

Before I start writing about Triple H, I want to say a few things about Steiner.
He remains the only man in the United States badass enough to legitimately sport chain mail.
His promos, in the latter half of his career, have often been unhinged, hilarious mini-shoots that have damaged women, children and not-so innocent by-standers.
His wrestling career is long, storied and influential, so I don't believe for a second his above comments are motivated by jealousy (unfortunately a common accusation in our culture when someone says something against the current grain of popularly accepted wisdom).
The man has won major titles in both of the premiere promotions (including the WCW World Title) as well accumulating accolades in Japan, in addition to inventing moves like the "Frankensteiner" which have become part of many a young wrestler's arsenal.
And as Guttman notes "the thing about Steiner that makes him really stand out is how far he veered away from his original gimmick. Very few wrestlers are able to successfully transition into a radically different character and succeed." Scott Steiner did all that and then some; going from the All-American Michigan Mullet to the Big Bad Booty Daddy in less than two moves with ease.
As the sign proclaims: I hear ya Big Poppa Pump.

Now on to Hunter Hearst Helmsley, the only man on Planet Earth who can accomplish the impossible and make the greatest band ever somehow cringe-worthy by using them as an accessory during his stupid water-bottle spraying bullshit. Seriously, who told him that was scary, or cool, or impressive or whatever it's supposed to be? I've been torn over this guy, at times, but I have to agree with the general contours of Steiner's outburst. I definitely think he's a talented worker in the ring, but I just cannot and will not buy his supposed status as an all time "legend" which is incessantly promoted, hyped and pushed on viewers by the WWE. It gets to the point where they definitely "doth protest too much." One example would be when I recently watched an old match between RVD and Triple H from "Unforgiven" in 2002, and I'll be damned if I didn't hear Jim Ross (a man whom I respect greatly) earnestly compare Helmsley to Harley Race and Jack Brisco (two legendary, traveling NWA Champions who as far as I know never had their wives working in the front office). I was stunned.
Incidentally, Ric Flair interferes in the "Unforgiven" match and apparently this was the genesis of the Evolution angle.

Speaking of Flair, over whom my markdom knows no bounds, it gives me pause when I hear the amount of praise he heaps on Helmsley because I can't possibly claim, nor would I, that I know the business on the same level that people like Jim Ross and Ric Flair do, I can only speak and interpret events as a fan, but what they see in Triple H is vastly different than what I see, so I continuously try and look at him from different angles to see this "greatness" I'm missing.
In the deleted scenes of his mammoth Highspots shoot Ric Flair is asked who from the current era could've drawn money in the territorial era and without hesitation he names Triple H (along with Shawn and the Undertaker). I started thinking about this and I thought of a man like "Ravishing" Rick Rude who was able to get over in such disparate territories as World Class Championship Wrestling and Mid-Atlantic (the Crockett era where he won the Tag Team belts with Manny Fernandez) completely on his own. I just don't see Triple H being able to that. How would he have done it? On the strength of his ring work? He's usually solid, rarely ever spectacular. After at least 10 years worth of endless hype and a multitude of main events, I can only think of 2 of his matches that I would consider great: the Hell in the Cell match in 2000 with Cactus Jack, and some random match he did on Raw against William Regal in 2004/5, which was the only time I can remember Triple H making me care enough to hate him: aka true heat
I give Mick Foley a lot of credit for making the Hell in the Cell match memorable as he put Helmsley over on a silver platter. The match with Regal was during one of his monster heel turns and he used the sledgehammer to good effect and, for whatever reason, this bloodbath achieved a level of drama and psychology that has stayed with me.
Triple H has had some good matches with Shawn Michaels, but I have to say a lot of that is due to Shawn's work.

Stay Tuned for Part II.



Friday, March 26, 2010

Uncle Bill Marks Out!


Yesterday I re-read this astounding William S. Burroughs interview from the Paris Review, while researching something else I'm writing, and towards the end he cites his intention to "wise up the marks."
He was speaking in political and perceptual terms that go way beyond wrestling, but I thought it interesting and coincidental that I hadn't caught this particular line/insight before. Burroughs might refer to my discovery as a "willful juxtaposition" because he doesn't put much stock in coincidences.
At any rate, I've read this interview three times now and it continually reveals something fascinating and new. Burroughs had a truly astonishing and expansive mind, and this interview reads like a blueprint explaining the philosophies, theories and obsessions he would explore in detail through his subsequent work, in addition to outlining the tools and techniques he would use to communicate them.

He's asked a question regarding the "carnival origins" of certain characters in Naked Lunch and he responds by saying:

The carny world was exactly the one I intended to create--a kind of midwestern, small-town, cracker-barrel, pratfall type of folklore...That world was an integral part of America and existed nowhere else, at least not the same form.

WSB-Paris Review Fall 1965 pp.19-20

Of course, this authentically American world of "pratfall folklore" spawned professional wrestling and its colorful carny lexicon forever embedded the word 'mark' in our vocabulary.

I think it's interesting that he depicts the carny world as an "integral part" of American identity and consciousness. And since wrestling originated in that world, by extension, we can reason that maybe, possibly, when making these connections explicit, some of wrestling's enduring appeal can be explained by viewing it within this context.

Something to think about as I ponder spending $55 dollars to watch Shawn/Undertaker II and Chris Jericho prove why he's truly "the best at what he does."

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The Whole F****N' Show





Sometimes your long dormant level of markdom for a certain wrestler will up and take you by surprise.
I was a little interested when I heard that TNA was bringing in Rob Van Dam. I used to be a pretty big RVD fan, but by the end of his WWE run I 'd lost interest. To be fair, my interest towards wrestling in general was waning, at that time, as it has periodically over the past 5 years. WWE's booking does share some blame because last I remember RVD was jobbing habitually to Randy Orton and Kane.
Anyway his split second squash of Sting in his TNA debut was explosive and exciting. Although, I have mixed feelings about Sting's prolonged beatdown afterwards; but hey, the Stinger had to reclaim some lost heat.
But the match last night between RVD and Jeff Hardy vs. Beer Money Inc. was well-paced and phenomenal! Easily the best match I've seen in months. I caught myself saying "wow" out loud a few times. I completely marked out for the "Five Star" Frog splash and the springboard moonsault.
It's weird because earlier in the evening I was watching The World's Greatest Wrestling Managers and they showed a clip of Bill Alfonso accompanying RVD and Sabu to the ring.
I'd completely forgotten about Fonzy, and man, I don't know how because what a spectacle these three dudes were!
An acrobatic stoner named after a B-movie star in cheesy, tie-dyed tights paired with a scarred Lebanese man from "Bombay" Michigan wearing Arabic garb, who just happened to be the most insane, reckless maniac to ever work in the ring, fronted by an angry demented looking troll with a whistle who brought chairs, carnage and mayhem wherever they went and seemed unstoppable at the peak of their ECW run. They earned extra points from me by smashing ICP at a house show (I believe).
I was a huge mark, but it never dawned on me how visually insane they truly were until I looked at that clip with fresh eyes.
In another coincidence, visuals were something mentioned over and over on the Managers' disk, particularly in reference to Jimmy Hart and Jim Cornette, but the most stark evidence was provided by Alfonso, Van Dam and Sabu.

More on managers and psychology soon.

Welcome back, RVD.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Psychology Part I: Referees


















picture from guresmania.net

As I mentioned at the end of the previous post I've learned a lot about the wrestling industry, particularly the art of being a heel and the mastery of ring/crowd psychology that it entails, from Steven Johnson and Greg Oliver's excellent book "The Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame: The Heels."
This is the third in a series of "Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame" volumes written by these two men.
The first two are The Canadians, which I sadly haven't read yet, and the Tag Teams which is also extremely good.

I want to transition into an ongoing series of posts regarding psychology and how the business has changed in myriad ways over the past 20-25 years by posting comments from one of the damn-near unanimously acknowledged all time masters of psychology, Jake "the Snake" Roberts.

Johnson and Oliver interviewed The Snake for their chapter on "Heel Psychology" and he said some very interesting things about the importance of the referee's role in establishing proper heel psychology and, ultimately, legitimate or "true" heat. Roberts said:

"To be a good heel, you've got to use the referee. When I say 'use' the referee, respect the referee. It makes no sense if a guy doesn't listen to the referee because then the heat goes on the referee; it doesn't go on the heel...Sort of like if you've got a sniper in the bell tower shooting kids in a playground, and you've got a policeman next to him. Who has the heat? The policeman; he's not doing his job"
Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame: The Heels, p.7

This is one of those things that after you read it, you're shocked at how simple and seemingly obvious the insight truly is, yet embarrassed that someone had to point it out.
Pro Wrestling Illustrated and their entire family of Kayfabe magazines used to refer to heels as "rulebreakers"and that's exactly what the Snake is talking about; how can you be a heel or a villain when there is no authority to establish rules to break in the first place?
Simple. But when I read that it took me by surprise. That's what was missing in the Attitude era of 15 chairshots to the head, and the initial ECW (which I loved) heyday of barbed wire and tables--referees!
Sure there were people in those eras that fans loved to loathe, but now I understand why some veterans say that a certain level of legitimate or "true" heat is no longer attainable.
In some ways that's a good thing, though. The days of riots in the Omni where Flair and the Andersons had to cut a harrowing, perilous path to the dressing room, and Larry Zbyszko getting stabbed on his way out of Albany arena stand as bygone testaments to the power of "true" heat. They are also awesome testaments to how skilled at manipulating our emotions these men truly are. Thus the fascination. I'll admit that heels causing riots sounds vaguely romantic from the safety of my keyboard years down the line, but there is absolutely nothing cool about somebody getting maimed or killed just for being too good at their jobs.

But back to generating"true" heat on a smaller, semi-sane scale. Steve Austin broke the mold in many ways. He carved out a sort of anti-hero, anti-establishment character that was bound to absolutely no authority, so how could someone work against him and drum up heat of their own if the referee, as the Snake lamented, was just in the ring for tradition's sake and/or to get stunned and otherwise take bumps?

The pendulum has swung back a little in the other direction in what many refer to as the PG era in WWE programming, but I believe the devaluation of the referee's role lies at the core of some negative changes the industry has undergone in recent years.
That pure pissed off aggravation of seeing Tully Blanchard and/or Randy Savage winning gold over someone you just "knew" was the superior wrestler just because the sorry, sad-sack ref didn't notice the roll of coins or brass knucks was such a great, dare I say, healthy release of anger and indignation.

Postscript (In case anyone ever actually reads this):
I sent this post to a friend of mine and he quoted the last sentence about the 'refs not seeing the roll of coins...' and said, "Isn't that part of the act?"
Of course it is.
I have delusions of grandeur and literary pretensions to indulge...so I'm sorry if the point (there was one) got lost in a lot of overwrought writing.
To be succinct:
The guy with the snake is saying the 'act' suffers when the referees role is diminished and/or minimized.





Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Tag Teams of Yore



I've been watching a ton of vintage tag-team matches recently.
Part of that is because I picked up this fine WWE Home Video. Some Amazon reviewers were complaining about the way the set is sequenced (it jumps from era to era, promotion to promotion with no rhyme nor reason), but I love that it does that. The sequencing is very in-synch with how my mind works so I can definitely appreciate it. It's great to be able to skip from the Bulldogs/Hart Foundation to the Steiners' match at Supershow '91 to the Freebirds/Von Erichs and so forth. My only complaint would be the brutally unfunny intros and outros by the Miz and Morrison. Please, please tell me that these things weren't scripted. I can give them a pass if they just attempted to wing it and failed miserably, it happens, but if someone actually got paid to write them--well...my contact info will be included at the end of this post.

But before I did that, I spent some quality time with Steven Johnson and Greg Oliver's excellent book Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame: The Tag Teams, which had me combing through my meager archives looking for more Arn and Tully matches, as well as anything at all featuring the British Bulldogs or Midnight Express.
Their ranking of the Top 25 Teams of All Time is provocative, but ultimately solid and well-reasoned, in my opinion.
The main problem is the Outsiders weren't mentioned at all!!! C'mon guys! I know I'm a huge, unrepentant mark for Big Kev and the Bad Guy; but not even a mention?
I had to revisit a few of the teams in their Top 10, including, the Midnight Express.

Even as a kid I could tell "Beautiful" Bobby Eaton was a great wrestler but I never liked "Loverboy" Dennis and I hated Cornette (well done, sir) so my final verdict on them was simple: lame. It didn't help that they got programmed against the Road Warriors a lot during that era, which would have reduced anyone to being sorry in the eyes of 10-year old me (even the Horsemen at first). I'll never forget years later in the act of ridiculing me for still watching this stuff, my friend Ryan emotionally saying how the Horsemen's ambush of the Road Warriors, was "the LAST STRAW" (he actually used far more colorful language) and had killed his fledgling fandom once and for all. His adolescent self just couldn't buy the spectacle of gnarly old Ole Anderson and puny Tully Blanchard actually slapping Hawk around. It turned him off forever. Such was our level of markdom for the Warriors in their prime.
Back to the Midnights, by the time "Sweet" Stan came into the fold, I'd started to appreciate them a little more, partially because by that time I absolutely hated the Rock 'n Roll Express and loathed the candyass Fantastics. Also the Midnights were true workhorses who wrestled on television every damn week and always had innovative new finishers like the "Trash Compactor."
I recently viewed a three pack of their matches:
vs. the Fantastics (Great American Bash 1988)
vs. the Rock n' Roll Express (1990)
vs. the Southern Boys (1990)

Man, "Beautiful" Bobby was way better than I'd even remembered. Such a smooth worker with great aerial moves. The chemistry this edition of the Midnight Express had was top-notch, crisp and all three of these matches were exciting and entertaining beyond belief. It was great seeing "The Rocket Launcher" again after all these years and I can see how their emphasis on aerial moves, timing and teamwork was such a huge influence on many of the wrestlers that came after them.


Speaking of Johnson and Oliver, their book on Heels is phenomenal and did more to enhance my understanding and appreciation of the level of psychology it takes to generate heat and be a truly unforgettable heel than almost any book on wrestling I've encountered thus far.
I hope to start a series of posts dealing with ring psychology and the art of heeling, heavily indebted to their work, very soon.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Opening Bell (Statement of Intent)

This blog is mostly going to be about good 'ole fashion wrestling, or "rasslin" as people in the know claim it is derisively referred to nowadays in places where they produce "sports entertainment."

I say mostly because I reserve the right to go off on non-wrestling tangents pertaining to things like the strange, largely ill-advised, production choices on the new High on Fire record, the tragedy of post "Night in the Ruts" Aerosmith, and other such gravely important matters when the mood strikes me.

My intentions aren't to bash the current version of "sports entertainment", but to preserve the glorious, nostalgic feelings I still get while watching classic matches from the 1980's when wrestling, along with metal, formed the twin pillars of my adolescence and went a long, long way towards making that often tumultuous, scary time a lot more stable, comfortable and, yes, fun.

Metallica, the Horsemen, Motley Crue, the Million Dollar Man, The Road Warriors--these were the people my friends and I talked about on the way to the bus stop in the morning and argued for and against in pitched battles at cafeteria tables over stale bread and the ever present tomato soup.
I still get excited in 2010 when Chris Jericho comes out and cuts a withering, hilarious promo on the "parasites and sycophants" whose number, no doubt, includes yours truly and when I see Doug Williams do his rolling German suplex, but I can't help feel like something has been lost.

Of course, I'm an adult who may be teetering dangerously close to "grumpy old man" territory and wrestling isn't the only business that has changed in the past 25 years, but I feel like something fundamental has shifted in the presentation, production and perception of this great spectacle and I'm hoping that celebrating the past might give me a better appreciation of the present.