|
 Nobody
knows who the Drills were, or where they came from. Somehow or
another, they have been erased from the annals of rock n’ roll completely,
and even the aging sleaze beasts I know just give me blank stares when I
show ‘em this record. Which is all kinda fucked up, because it was readily
available wherever bad flash metal was sold in the late 80’s. If I wasn’t
holding a copy in my greasy mitts right now, then I woulda hardly believed
they existed myself. Back in ’87, “The Drills” really was
kind of unremarkable, a ramshackle mish-mash of cock rock riffs and boozy
yelping, but something about it stuck with me. Listening to it now, I
realize what it was- the Drills invented 'Punk n’ roll'. Ok,
so nobody ever heard this record, which means you can still count the
Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs in as the cats who got the sleaze-glam-punk-rock
n’ roll wrecking machine going if ya want, but seriously, if you heard this
one, the whole blueprint is here. First of all, they’re all dressed in dirty
leather, faded denim, eyeliner, and Motorhead t-shirts. Secondly, dig
the song titles: “Full Throttle”, “Shakin’
Feelin”,
“Sonic Affair”, “Easy Action”, etc. All the songs are about
hotrods to hell, the glory of rock, and devil girls on wheels. Sound
familiar? How ‘bout the woozy Johnny Thunders solos (courtesy Alex
“Hood” Herrera, and “Subway” Mike Hall), or Roger Deering’s
snotty vocal delivery? If this record got released tomorrow, you’d just
think it was Swedish, or maybe a Red Hot Lovers side-project. And
despite some glaring flaws (the songs are so repetitive, I hadda keep
checking to make sure the record wasn’t skipping, and Roger’s got a
seriously warped delivery- “Time to go full throttle!” sounds like “Time to
eat some buffalo! Buffalo!”), you’d probably dig it, man.
So what the hell happened? Well, they were from Miami, not exactly cock n’
roll central, so that couldn’t have helped, and this was marketed as a metal
record, which it ain’t, so I’m sure it got it’s fair share of ugly press, if
any at all. Most likely, the Drills just all wandered off after this
album sunk like a stone, joined a buncha death metal bands, and all run
tattoo parlors or motorcycle dealerships now. I bet at least one of ‘em
still wears his Drills shirt on the weekends, tho. I know I would, if
I had one.
-Sleazegrinder
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________ |