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Under Neath What |
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I’m walking around on some really weird
shit So,
one afternoon about 15 years ago, I’m sitting on the ratty,
dragged-off-the-street couch in Pepsi Sheen's living room, sharing
cigarette butts with the man himself. Pepsi had this weird little
apartment near the railroad tracks back then. It was always gray in this
neighborhood, always threatening to downpour. It was a good neighborhood
to slit your wrists in and then get your face eaten off by your starving
cat. Not really the best place for a high-strung glitter punk like Mr.
Sheen to be holed up in, but it was cheap. He lived there with his
superstar glam rock girlfriend, one of the most stunning little numbers
I’ve ever seen, 100 pounds and 5 feet no inches of tight leather and
tighter lace and mascara and manic depression. I think she must have been
the one with the job, because I don’t remember either Pepsi or I working
back then. Anyway, we’re sitting there, it’s the late 80’s, maybe 1990.
The world’s falling apart, it’s raining, and Motorcycle Boy is
playing on the stereo. One thing about Pepsi and Miss Pepsi back then –
they HAD THE HITS. Nothing pill-fueled and covered in cheetah skin
was getting by those two. They had stacks and stacks of the finest in
swagger and strut. So, he’s going on about Tyla and Nikki Sudden and New York City and all the girls he’s ever loved before, and I say to him, “Hey Pepsi, you heard the Wild record yet? Cuz it’s bad ass, man.” Sometimes you gotta re-direct the cat, you know. Pepsi smiles, throws his purple boa over his shoulder, and makes a sweeping gesture over the stacks of records. “Man, I got ALL that major label sleaze shit. I got the Wild, I got the Ultras, I got the Pandoras, I got the Nymphs, I got Under Neath What, even.” I’m pretty sure he hit me with the last one just to show off, but since it was the only name unfamiliar to me, I just nodded, and took a mental note to check them out. A decade and a half later, and I’m still trying to figure out exactly what sorta strange messages Under Neath What were sending out with swirly, Love Rock/Flash Metal cocktails like “Firebomb Telecom” and “Bad Karma Chameleon”. Even from the first listen to their sole US album, “What Is It”, their Shamanistic bliss-rawk left traces and vapor trails, little puzzles that clicked and clacked in the back of my skull in rare, quiet moments. Their sound – part Spacemen 3, part T Rex, part Love Reaction, part Situationist deathtrip – was so far beyond the meathammer sex and spandex of their contemporaries, that they hardly sounded like they belonged on the same planet, never mind the same stages, as Skid Row or Motley Crue. Hell, even the Dogs D’Amour sounded like street fightin’ men in comparison to the druggy sex n’ death vibe of Under Neath What. ___________________________________________________________________________________ |
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| What Is It (the American version, anyway) was remarkably easy to find those days, in just about every format available. CD, vunyl, cassette, minidisc, you name it. One thing’s for sure, Atco (Atco!) made sure there were enough of them out there. The thing they forgot, however, was to actually promote the band, because besides Pepsi, who, let’s face it, has always been a fuckin’ fanatic, nobody else I knew had even heard of Under Neath What. And baby, I ran with the wild boys. That’s a shame, really, because UNW were one of the most creative, genre-defying flash metal bands ever, a buncha well-dressed sin-tellectuals with exotic tastes in poetry, woman, drugs, and rock n’ roll. They were Sleaze Metal personified, yet they never played one actual metal riff. They were like ghostly, translucent, psychedelic doppelgangers of Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, replacing brute force, Viking death chants and primordial sex noise with loopy Bolan riffs, beat poetry, and otherworldly echoes from the other side. And for many, many years, the only proof I even had of their existence was this album, and Pepsi’s off-hand remark about them being “Major label sleaze”. Which isn’t enough to tell a story, really. |
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Luckily, I found Underneath What’s
mainman, Andrew Berenyi, still blowin’ minds in LA, in a new band,
Thing. Or maybe he found me. Maybe rock n roll just righted itself
at the precise moment we needed it to. However it happened, Andrew was
willing to tell the whole torrid tale, which was boss, because otherwise,
I would have had to make it all up. Turns out, Underneath What’s
truth is more cinematic than even Sleaze-fiction. Brace yourself, rocker.
This is serious business.
_________________________________________________________________________________ UNDER NEATH WHAT: BIOGRAPHY. Spring, 1985. Andrew Berenyi was sitting on a street corner in New York City, with his last five bucks in his pocket, thinking he was gonna have to go back to Missouri. He was dating an English girl, and had recently been introduced to an English singer named Adam Locke, by a school friend. Andrew and Adam were trying to start something in NY, but to no avail up to that time, and money and ideas were running short. Then, two people came up out of Astor Place subway station and asked Andrew, point blank, if he would like to be in a TV commercial. It was an ad for Pioneer stereo systems, which was going to be a major promotion. He said yes. Andrew never saw the ad air, because as soon as he had the money from the shoot, he flew to England with his friends, naturally leaving a forwarding address for the royalty checks that would be coming for the next two years, from the new "career" in television.
Summer, 1985. |
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Autumn, 1985. The fourpiece began to do shows around Brixton, calling themselves THE UNDERNEATH. People would say, "Oh yeah, underneath what?" So, in the bitchy spirit of pre-emptive strike, the name was changed to UNDERNEATH WHAT. Adam would have bad relationships with chicks, and he would often hit them. And with the elevation in his drug use, he became a petty thief. His behavior made the others nervous, so he was dumped. Andrew moved into a squatted house with Tim, and UNW was a three piece. Andrew was dating Manuela Zwingmann, the drummer from X MAL DEUTSCHLAND. She was kind of a rock star, and she suggested that Andrew should just front the band. UNW looked for new singers, but none measured up, so they followed Manuela's advice. Also around that time, a relentless graffiti campaign was begun by Tim, who made a stencil of the band's logo, and put it up EVERYWHERE he could, often getting arrested in the process. The GODFATHERS were good friends, so they started offering UNW support slots at some of their shows.
Winter-spring, 1985-86. |
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UNW never even picked them all up
from the pressing plant. But they told
everyone that they were sold out, adding to the local mystique that was
gathering.
Summer-Autumn 1986- Winter 1986-87. |
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Spring, 1987. Andrew Berenyi is deported from the UK for immigration violations. Other than Tim and Peter doing what they could to keep up the profile of the band, including stories of governmental interference and oppression (no shit), everything was on hold until Andrew got married to a British national and returned to the UK in January 1988. The UNW machine was once again cranked up. The fanzines and some music press quickly became interested again and BEGGAR'S BANQUET was still courting the band, but not offering much money. Gigs, graffiti, huge ugly posters, business as usual. Spring, 1988. By this time, major label interest and press interest was starting to grow. The band did a show supporting CRAZYHEAD in north London. . |
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Martin (Cally) Caloman from A&R at
WEA (who had formerly managed Julian
Cope, and Crazyhead) approached the band with some ideas that involved
large amounts of money! London, Polydor, and other majors got wind, and
joined in a bidding war. UNW was in the middle of a six show "tour" of the London area, but had a few days off. Peter Petoom decided to take a little break and return to Holland to see his parents. He never returned. Andrew received the phone call on a chilly grey June afternoon from a friend of Peter's, informing him that Peter had committed suicide the night before, by jumping from the roof of his parents' house in Eindhoven. Shortly before that, PETE HAWKINS had been signed on as the group's management. His first real work for the band, consisted of arranging for Tim, Andrew, and some others to get to Holland and go to Peter's funeral. All the labels backed off except WEA, who were still confident in UNW's ability to find a replacement for Peter. In July 1988, Tim and Andrew were sitting around, nauseously loaded on heroin. The phone rang. It was a secretary at WEA summoning them to the office, because something important needed their attention. Getting off the train at least once to throw up, they got to WEA, and about an hour later, and signed a thick, incomprehensible recording contract with THE WARNER-ELEKTRA-ATLANTIC recording company, for around $1million. With options. Pete Hawkins (who had booked the second ever SEX PISTOLS show, and had managed KING KURT) was managing another group called THE ONE TRUE GOD, which had two drummers. One of them was MIKAL C. Mikal came by the house one day with a gram of smack, and he was in. Two weeks later, UNW was on the road across the UK, and in the studio recording the FIREBOMB TELECOM EP which would be released on ONE BIG GUITAR. The "independent" release was to keep the band's credibility as a street level squatter drug band, from Brixton. Summer-Autumn, 1988. Firebomb Telecom was number six in the indie charts in the UK. The band was on a SECOND UK tour already, supporting the FIELDS OF THE NEPHILIM. UNW were press darlings, and could hardly do any wrong. A publicity campaign involving some plagiarism of BRITISH TELECOM's logo, got the band in hot water with the corporate powers, and were ordered to cease and desist. They did. And moved on to the GET OUTTA THE WAY EP, which included Bad Kharma Chameleon. Winter, 1988-89. Bad Kharma reached number 8 in the UK indie charts. More touring ensued, with slots supporting everyone from LIVING COLOR to JANE'S ADDICTION to KING'S X, to GENE LOVES JEZEBEL. Summer, 1989. The STRAIGHT AHEAD MONEY EP is released, and is the first "major label" recording. It reached about number 35 in the UK charts. UNW was also working on the LP WHAT IS IT. Which would be released in October. By now, Tim and Andrew had relinquished control of their promotion to major corporations. Bad move. Andrew started appearing as a calendar boy in glossy rock mags next to bands like WARRANT. Bad, bad move. Addiction problems were pervasive among the band and crew. But they could still kick ass, and a surrealistic and chaotic light show had been added, with Paddy Farr (now with SPIRITUALIZED) to make the show something of an attraction. One show had members of THE CULT, POP WILL EAT ITSELF, and THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN in attendance, just to watch. UNW were selling out 1500 seat theatres in LONDON and PARIS. While prodigiously performing throughout Europe. There was also a major UK tour with DOGS D'AMOUR. Autumn 1989. UNW toured the UK and Europe in support of WHAT IS IT. Audience reactions were varied. Critical acclaim of the LP was high for the most part, but since Peter Peetoom's death, it hadn't REALLY been the same. Andrew's opinion of the LP was low, as it didn't have the flash and flare of the live performances. Signs of discontent began to appear with a lot of backstage arguing and glass throwing. The band was becoming increasingly out of control behind ever escalating drug use and the availability of the resources to maintain a lifestyle not conducive to artistic or spiritual development, to put it mildly. Winter 1989- spring 1990. Tours of Australia, Japan and the US. More of the same. UNW did some headlining shows of their own, in LA, San Francisco and New York. Also, there was a supporting slot with the BLACK CROWES and JUNK YARD in Chicago. In Japan and Australia, the record was doing fairly well, with a number 10 on the Australian charts, namely, THEIR HEADS EXPLODED, a track from the LP. There were also several live radio sessions and TV appearances. In Japan were the largest audiences and biggest paychecks. UNW was now getting $11,000 per show. Not a lot, but enough. _______________________________________________________________________________________ |
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Summer, 1990. THEIR HEADS EXPLODED released in the UK. Not a hit. Number 100, maybe. That summer saw the band attempting to write material for the second LP. But more drugs were being taken than songs written. WEA began to return phone calls less often. Pete Hawkins took on management of some crappy band called 5:30. The sessions were going so poorly, that Mikal C. was replaced by Mike Williams (who would later join NANCY BOY in 1995). Autumn-Winter, 1990. UNW moved to France, where they would demo the new songs in a deserted resort outside Lyon, while touring the rest of the country. |
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Things were going well with the new drummer,
who was not into drugs, but liked to blow shit up, which was a never
ending source of amusement in cold, foreign, autumn France. Then
Martin Caloman was fired by WEA, and with the "key
man" being gone, UNW left the label too. In November, the band embarked
on a major European tour with the SISTERS OF MERCY, filling large arenas
of over 20,000. No deal, but big shows. Things looked okay. Winter 1990-spring 1991. Upon returning to the UK after almost six months of demoing and touring, UNW found that their moment had passed. They were bumped from the Wembley arena show with the SISTERS. Record company machinations, of course. And the slot was filled by an unknown group called the MOTHERS, who promptly disappeared. The UK was turning tide, with rave music taking over, and live rock bands finding it harder to get work. Pete Hawkins was now pretty absent, and nothing was being done to further UNW's endeavors. Andrew sunk deeper into addiction, with some time off to do so. Summer 1991. No label. Little industry interest and a reputation for irresponsibility, addiction and unreliability, were now the reality for UNW. Some small deals were offered by independents, but Hawkins would not participate because of lack of advance funds. Tim Ashton quit the band to pursue a brief career in promoting raves and selling ecstasy. Andrew and Mike carried on, but were unable to find a bassist with the right feel and attitude, and were increasingly desperate and disillusioned. Andrew went to rehab in September. _____________________________________________________________________________________ |
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The rest of the story. Upon returning, it wasn't fun anymore, and nothing seemed to work. He relapsed. UNW completely disbanded in early 1992, without ever having even announced it to anyone. By the spring of 1993, Andrew was selling guitars for drugs and still giving autographs, but unable to put a band together, much less even book a show anywhere. Tim Ashton graduated to selling heroin and was eventually roughed up and robbed several times. Mike Williams was doing graphic design in an office somewhere. Mikal C was missing in action, presumed to be in Canada or Mexico, doing god knows what. One night in June 1993, Andrew went to see Tim, get high, and say goodbye. They were thousands in debt for unpaid taxes, and a law suit from Pete Hawkins was pending. the next day, Andrew returned to America discreetly, for fear he would be detained at the border, for tax evasion. The present. Andrew Berenyi has been clean for five years. And there's a new band. THING, the most mesmerizing rock group on this planet. They are doing shows in the LA area and plan to tour Europe soon. He lives in Long Beach California. |
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Tim Ashton is still addicted to heroin, still lives in Brixton, and is a
motorcycle messenger. He recently underwent heart bypass surgery. Mike Williams lives in New York City where he is a DJ and guitar player for a band called Goodfinger Mikal C has been "missing" for over ten years. Peter Peetoom is of course, still dead. RIP, Peter. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Only One Dance Can Save You and Me All the a-sides from Under Neath What’s singles and EP’s are included on “What Is It”. The CD versh even includes bonus tracks, “Let’s Do It Again”, and “2000 Light Years from Home”. The album opens with “Like an Animal”, a London-leatherboy sleaze rocker with incendiary flash-riffs and reverberating deathrock howls. “I don’t wanna talk about your fights”, Andrew warbles, his voice caught in some oscillating netherwold, “Cuz I’m too busy laying around, and thinking about my stripes”. He says a lot of other things, too, but you may never here them. Berenyi’s vocal style is somewhere between a narcotic mumble and a lupine howl, and although it’s never particularly coherent, it’s always eerily effective. It’s as if he’s much more interested in copping a plea from the voices inside his head then explaining the whole woeful story to you. As such, listening to his words is kind of like overhearing a conversation through an air vent- it always sounds tantalizingly provocative, but you can only pick up every other word. So, you know, you just fill in the blanks as you go along. Anyway, “Like an Animal” set the precedent for the spacey, glammy sex rock to come. It’s a little like Japan and a little like Gun Club, and it musta freaked the suburban metal kids right the fuck out in 1989. “Straight Ahead Money (Peace Out)” comes with a Lollapalooza-ready title (you can just see kids in Janes Addiction t-shirts saying it to each other over bouts of hacky-sack, can’t ya?), but actually owes more to Hanoi Rocks and Generation X, riding on a stripped-down black-cat rockabilly riff and rolling around in gypsy glitter. I have no idea what the fuck it’s supposed to about –drugs, probably – but it sounds like winning, which is how I like my rock n’ roll to sound. |
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“Eggs, Bacon, Coffee, and Suicide” is a blast of swaggering acid-blues,
with a blasting, distorted rumble-bass, cowboy twang guitars, and lots of
slinky “Hey, bay-bee” crooning. Oh, and midway through, it turns into
dive-bombing speed-rock, complete with a scorched-earth flash metal
guitar
solo. Which, you’ve gotta admit, is a lot of action to pack into 4
minutes. UK hit “Bad Kharma Chameleon” is one of the few songs on the album that actually approaches a bonafide sleaze metal sound. Chugging metal guitars, a bitch-slap rappin’, cocaine-tongue rant from Berenyi (“Ya learn to do some really nasty things out there…”), and an incessant chorus all burn this one straight into you brain like a traumatic memory. It’s a stark contrast to the drowsy “Bad Star”, a goth-metal drug ballad that sounds like the Sisters of Mercy crawling on bloody knees through vast strawberry fields. It's suicide glam with sticky pop hooks sprinkled over the top. It’s got fuckin’ violins and everything, it’s crazy. I think the 69 Eyes musta heard this one right before they turned into vampires. |
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Andrew gave away the meaning behind “Firebomb Telecom”, another of What Is
It’s Brit-hits. I always thought it was about it was about killer
satellites and the end of the world, but really, it’s just about the phone
company. Well, alright. It’s still 7 minutes of booming thunder and
rubber-legged sleaze. It’s a little too greasy to truly peg, but the riff
sounds like prime Zodiac Mindwarp, maybe “Bad Girl City”. Not a cop, mind
you, just the same madness infecting a cuppla bands at once. The vox –
sounds like everybody’s in on this one- are classic junkie drawl. The
whole band sounds like they’re face down on the floor, slurring into the
receiver of the evil phone, promising hell to the dial tone. For seven
Iron
Butterfly-esque minutes, even. It’s a gloriously decadent song, man.
Fuckin' Caligula would love “Firebomb Telecom”. “Hallucination Come True” IS “Like an Animal”. I don’t know if Under Neath What even realized they wrote and recorded the same song twice, tho. I mean, they did a LOT of really weird drugs back then. Non-hit (but only a near-miss) “Their Heads Exploded” is a slinky groove-rocker that sounds a bit like Marc Almond fronting a funkified Gaye Bykers on Acid. You don’t believe me, but it’s true. “Pointed ID” is a creepy cock rock song. “I just gotta sublimate you…grrrr!” says Andrew. Ka-boom! Goes his guitar. With it’s Hendrix acid-metal riffs and it’s snaky, arena rocking drums, this is Under Neath What’s version of GNR’s slash n’ burn policy. Only strange. And with outer space ‘wooshes’. Heavy. “Let’s Do It Again” is downtown drugrock, with Stiv-speak vox and swaggering Thunders guitars. Probably the most straight-ahead rocker on deck. And rock it does. “Johnny Be Baaad” is just a wall of flashy guitars and a thumping rockabilly beat. It sounds like the precursor to the Manic Street Preachers ’90 debut, “New Art Riot”. Which, of course, it was. |
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Finally, as with all epic rock records (Ok, CD’s), this one has and epic
rock closer. “2000 Light Years from Home” is 6 and a half minutes of
sleazy psyche-space motherfucker rock. It sounds like Hanoi Rocks and
Gene
Loves Jezebel blasting off on the same lonely rocketship to the Moon. It’s
got blistering solos that last for minutes at a time, and slithering Alice
Cooper vocals. It’s evil, but calming, like the deep, easy blackness
pouring over you after too many gulps of whiskey and big blue pills. It is
a very fitting end for this very cosmic record. Of course, it doesn’t
sound at all like THEE end, but that’s what
Flash Metal Suicides are all
about, man. Sudden, abrupt endings. Unanswered questions. Unfulfilled
destinies. Rock n’ roll is a bitch, baby. _______________________________________________________________________________________  Sure,
Under Neath What were always going to be too weird, esoteric, and
decadent for the hungry flash metal hordes to devour, but for the
enlightened – that means you- they could have been the sinister leaders of
a dark, profane cult of oblivion-seeking narco-rockers. And believe me,
that would have been sexy. And cool. Ah, but all is not lost. If “What Is It” was the theoretical question (and it was), there is a quite practical answer: Thing. As Berenyi will openly profess, they are “the most mesmerizing band on the planet”, and he may be right. Certainly, they are the logical progression of the Under Neath What story, and what they lack in UNW’s tragic-comic drug buzz, they more than make up for with churning, brain-melting psychedelic love rock. Flash Metal Suicide is a hell of a thing to come back from, but Thing may be just the band to do it. Call it a Flash Metal Resurrection. - FIN - |
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Further: Thing ____________________________________________________________________________________ |
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-Sleazegrinder, Andrew Berenyi
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