By Matt Coker
By R. Scott Moxley
By Charles Lam
By Nick Schou
By Gustavo Arellano
By Gustavo Arellano
By Steve Lowery
By R. Scott Moxley
What could possibly be more terrifying than being trapped in a roomful of Trekkies and/or comic book conventioneers? Try spending an afternoon at the National Association of Music Merchants (NAMM) confab, which returned to its regular Anaheim Convention Center haunt Jan. 18-21 after a year away whilst the center underwent an extensive remodeling job. NAMM is a big, huge, megasized event aimed mostly at music-store owners looking to stock their shelves with the latest/coolest/trendiest instruments, gear and gadgetry and is closed to the general public. LowBallAssChatter snagged a media pass, however, and we admit to being fairly overwhelmed. NAMM took up the center's four cavernous assembly halls, several floors and ballrooms, and the old arena. But it was the people-watching that made us very, very afraid, especially the minions of mullet-haired dude-rockers who picked up guitars at random and tried to wheedle-wheedle like Eddie Van Halen in his prime—what century is this, anyway? Mostly, we came for the tons of free crap various exhibitors doled out. At the Gemini Sound Products booth, we embarrassed ourselves by fighting over the black-plastic mini-footballs that a gaggle of jiggly, bikini-clad strumpets were tossing out and were perplexed by the long line of folks waiting to get an autographed photo from Deacon Jones, onetime LA Rams defensive end—circa Lyndon B. Johnson. Busty women seemed to be at every fifth booth—anything to lure the mostly male attendees—as were the withered old men with saliva crawling down their fat, wrinkly cheeks who were videotaping them (for "personal use," natch). We were intrigued by the huge throng that gathered around the Peavey booth and then couldn't flee fast enough when we realized they were awaiting a personal appearance from Ted Fuckin' Nugent. We glimpsed a woman in a lacy, black, Stevie Nicks number whose ample breasts were about to make an unscripted cameo appearance; a guy who looked like Howard Stern dressed in a hideous green suit and was speaking German; an elderly jazz drummer who floored us with his wire-brush technique; loads of leather-clad Hessians whose rock-star fashion sense hasn't progressed past 1966; and local lad James Harman, who blew up a storm at a harp exhibitor's booth. Best, though, were the teenage boys who sidled up to a rack of $5,000 synthesizers, looking like they were generally knowledgeable about the gear, started tinkering with the keys and buttons, and then proceeded to pound out the raunchiest fart noises we'd ever heard. Damn—rock & roll will never die! (Rich Kane)
BILL AND TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE If you missed Ted Nugent at the NAMM show, you could still catch the "Motor City Madman" on ABC's Politically Incorrect on Jan. 19. Nugent, a frequent guest on the political gab-a-thon, did what he always does: dominated conversations until host Bill Maher couldn't take it anymore and had to verbally duel with the guitar slinger. Take this entertaining exchange on Eminem:
MAHER: This kid, who I think is brilliant—I really think that he's a genius. Okay, but he talks about killing his wife. I mean, he's on Dr. Dre's new record, and there's a charming interchange between the two of them where Eminem says, "You know, Dr. Dre, I'd like to tell you how much I love you." And Dr. Dre says back to him, "Thank you. And by the way, if you ever need help in killing your wife, I'm there for you."
NUGENT: Only Dr. Dre sucks more than Eminem, so go ahead, Bill. . . . The whole concept that anyone would be entertained by that just kind of falls on deaf ears. It's almost like dancing to "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" and giving it some moral context.
MAHER: Ted, you have not kept up with the music industry.
NUGENT: You're damn right I haven't. I actually practice my guitar. I'm way out of touch. Yeah, my musicians can actually play. Who do we think we are?
MAHER: I could say some really mean things to you right now.
NUGENT: And they would all be stupid, so go ahead.
MAHER: They wouldn't be.
NUGENT: I have the greatest musicians in the world.
MAHER: You are so wrong about that.
NUGENT: Most of the rap we're talking about, it's all electronic. It's not even human beings playing. It's like electronic stuff where they push buttons.
MAHER: Have you listened to it?
NUGENT: Yeah, I've listened to it.
MAHER: Really, you've listened to it?
NUGENT: I've got a house full of kids, and I listen to it all the time.
MAHER: Let me tell you something in terms you can understand: Dr. Dre is the Phil Spector of rap producers.
NUGENT: Aghh! I don't think so.
MAHER: I knew you couldn't understand.
NUGENT: Did you ever hear "River Deep, Mountain High"?
MAHER: I did.
NUGENT: And the orchestration and the intense orchestration that—you don't hear any of that anymore.
MAHER: I brought my brain past the '70s.
NUGENT: I just haven't heard that kind of creative collaboration, but to each his own.
MAHER: All right. Because you closed off at a certain point.
NUGENT: I don't think so. I just did 146 concerts this year and had the time of my life. In fact, Kiss and Ted Nugent was the No. 1 rock tour in the world. I apologize. I know it's not a rap tour, but I use real musicians. To each his own.