The
Real 100 Greatest Rock Albums of All
Time, No. 10:
The Four Horsemen- Nobody Said It Was Easy (Def
American, 1991)
"If business is so good, why am I still fuckin' broke?"
I’m not saying that you have to remember my
first column for the late and great Hitlist Magazine or nothin’,
but the entire thing was written in one bleary-eyed 12-hour session with
this album playing on an endless loop in the background. I have sought
inspiration from the Four Horseman so many times that if I ever
started a church, “Nobody Said It Was Easy” would be it’s
sonic scripture. Talk to me for more than 10 minutes at a stretch, and
you’ll undoubtedly catch me copping one of Frank C. Starr’s lines.
If you have any question at all about what real rock and roll
sounds like, you can stop asking. It sounds like “Nobody Said it Was
Easy”.
The Four Horsemen (there were actually 5 of ‘em, by the way) was formed by bassist Kid Chaos (Stephen Harris) in 1988. Chaos has the greatest goddamn pedigree in all of rock and roll. First, the fucker did time in Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction until Ian Astbury stole him for a 1987 Cult tour. Kid screwed up the dream gig by appearing on the Joan Rivers show wearing a Zodiac Mindwarp t-shirt (!), and soon found himself looking for a job. He split the UK and landed in LA, where we changed his name to Haggis, switched to rhythm guitar, wrote a bunch of songs, and formed the Four Horsemen. They quickly released a now scarce 4 song, self-titled EP in ‘89* that laid down the biker-friendly, blue-collar blueprint for their sound. The songs were amped-up classic rockers, with all the hard rock crunch of the Cult mixed with Southern riff rock, and pushed right over the top by Frank Starr’s hyperactive screech**. Critics loved ‘em because they thought all the macho swagger was ironic, and the kids loved them because they knew it wasn’t. The Horsemen started carving out a reputation as authentically bad-ass rock and roll motherfuckers with a series of kill for thrills live shows, and all this AC/DC meets Sturgis biker rally meets Texan roadhouse thunderboogie action quickly caught up to Rick Rubin, who signed them to Def American. In 1990, the band was all set to go to New York and record “Nobody Said It Was Easy”, and success was just around the corner.
Then Frank got busted on a drug charge and went to jail for 6 months. Guess they got the title for the album right.
Eventually he got out, and they recorded the record. It hit the streets in 1991, and fit right in with the whiskey drinkin’, poker cheatin’, tattooed and bruised biker metal aesthetic so gloriously prevalent in the early 90’s (Circus of Power, Junkyard, Little Caesar, and Two Bit Thief were all revving similar engines at the time). “Tired Wings”, the album’s sole (pseudo) ballad, was a shameless Lynrd Skynrd inspired southern rock rambler, and it’s video got a decent amount of airplay on MTV. They toured with the Black Crowes and a cobbled-together almost-Skynrd, and developed a rabid following of bikers, metal heads, and assorted bad asses. Then they started writing songs for their follow-up.
And then, in 1992, Frank got thrown back in jail for a year.
By the time he got out, a lot of momentum was lost, but the band rallied, and work on “Getting Pretty Good… at Barely Getting By” began.
Then, in 1994, drummer Dimwit died of a heroin overdose. He was replaced by his brother, Chuck Biscuits (Danzig), but by that time Haggis had enough of the madness, and left his own band, followed quickly by original bass Ben Pape. Axeman Dave Lizmi and Frank Starr soldiered on.
Then, in 1995, a drunk driver smashed into Frank while he was riding his motorcycle, and he lapsed into a coma. Dave finished the mixing the record, and it was released on American in 1996. Dave hired Ron Young from Little Caesar to cover for Frank, and they toured the album until 1998, when they finally fizzled out. Frank never woke up from his coma, and eventually died in June, 1999.
They say great art often comes from great tragedy, and we might as well
stretch ‘art’ out to include great rock and roll, too. Plenty of bands
have attempted to pull off the hard living, dirty lovin’, full tilt boogie
swagger of the Four Horsemen from the safe confines of tour busses and
fully loaded contract riders (American Pearl, anyone?), but it takes more
than a few bad tattoos and a Harley sponsorship to be a true bad ass. I’m
not saying it takes a fatal motorcycle accident and several years in jail
either, but hell, it don’t hurt. Everything about this band was authentic,
noble, and true, and “Nobody Said It Was Easy” still rocks it like it
talks it, 12 years after its initial release. You’d figure some gang of
gas guzzling outlaws out there would’ve picked up where “Nobody” left off
by now, but aside from the blue collar bar brawl rock of
American Dog and
Ironboss, nobody’s even come close.
Three out of the 12 songs on “Nobody Said it Was Easy” have ‘Rock’ in the title, but virtually all of them are about rock and roll, in one way or another. This may seem obsessive to some (pussies, mostly), but it makes perfect sense to me. I don’t think about anything else, either. Kid Chaos…erm, Haggis wrote all the songs on the album, and he did not forget the lessons in big, big rock and roll that he learned from Mark and the fellas in the Love Reaction. In fact, the distinctive Zodiac Mindwarp formula- carve out a mountainous, overdriven riff, and hammer it into the listener’s skull until they are overwhelmed and seeing stars- is in full effect here, although it’s mixed with enough boogie-woogie and shit kicker country to make you think there’s more subtlety on display than there actually is. The Four Horsemen were from Hollywood, after all, no matter how much they’d like you think they rolled off the ranch in Austin, or Tallahassee, or anyplace south of Los Angeles. As dusty and down-home as they were, the Four Horsemen were still, above all, a hard fuckin’ rock band. The legacy of Guns N’ Roses still loomed large in 1990, and echoes of Izzy’s bluesy slide guitar and Axl’s hysterical bitch whine are both present and accounted for on this record. Still, despite all the contemporary influences, the Horsemen sound had a timeless, classic quality to it, and it has not aged a bit over the years.
“Nobody said it Was Easy” kicks off with the rousing title track, a
southern rock stomper
with an infectious riff and a jubilant, hand-clapping, chorus that belies
the bitter truth behind the lyrics. “It’s dirty, it’s a pity, and time ain’t exactly on our side”, Frank explains in the first verse. “But that ain’t no good reason, not to give it a try.” For a band stuck in limbo
while its lead singer rotted in jail for half a year, lines like this are
more than mere rock and roll poetry, they’re a hard-won declaration of
independence. “Don’t look inside the mirror, your time is growing nearer”,
Frank continues, in one of the many self-fulfilling prophecies on this
album. “How many dues do I have to pay, before they take my soul away?”
The answer lies in the chorus, and he’s right. Nobody said it was easy,
and it ain’t. But the rock rolls on.
“Rockin’ Is My Business” is up next, and I defy anyone to come up with a song anywhere that rocks harder than this one. Which, really, is what you’d expect from a song with this title. This is the most brazenly cock rock the Four Horsemen ever got, and it’s brilliant. And will anyone ever write another line as cool as “The book of rock and roll, Motherfucker I wrote it”? Nope. No they won’t.
“Tired Wings” is a drawling southern rocker full of Allman Brothers-styled vocal harmonies, and some truly stellar slide-guitar. “Can’t stop Rockin’” speaks for itself, a manic, Chuck Berry-inspired chug-fest that slams right into the moody, droning “Wanted Man”. Things kick back into high-gear with the third in the ‘rock’ trilogy, “Let it Rock”, the most overtly AC/DC copping song on the record. Over what may or may not be the “Let There Be Rock” riff, Frank does his best arena-shaking Brian Johnson as he paints a best case scenario in broad strokes of cock-sure boasting. “Half a year from now we’ll all be millionaires”, he promises, “We’ll be driving our limos to the liquor store”. Ok, so it didn’t quite pan out that way, but hell, that’s no reason not to let it fuckin’ rock, right?
The second half of “Nobody Said it Was Easy” is all burn-down-the-shithouse boogie rock rife with cops on their tail, scorned women, cocaine blues, and dirty deeds done dirt cheap. The high-speed scorcher “Looking for Trouble” is a particular stand-out, especially for the immortal line, “Looking for a piece of ass, looking for a cheeseburger”. I’ve been there myself. Every Saturday night for years, man.
The album closes with the epic “I Need a Thrill/Something Good”, the only
song that the whole band wrote together. The first half is a hook-heavy
hard rocker, which melts seamlessly into the “Something Good” section, a
jamming orgy of wah-wah blues riffs, Hammond organ (courtesy one “Bud”)
and a bombastic gospel chorus. It’s a big ending to a big record. “I need
something good, to get me through the day”, Frank opines, as the song
takes a turn towards the orchestral, “Oh help me lord, there’s gotta be a
better way…” Frank never found it, but just like in all great rock and
roll records, it leaves you with plenty of hope that you, dear rocker,
eventually will find that better way these lonely Horsemen were so
desperately searching for.
The ’96 follow-up, “Getting Pretty Good…at Barely Getting’ By” had it’s charms for sure, but was less-focused, featuring more than a few country-fueled jam sessions, and was ultimately too good-time, jivey-jivey for it’s own good. Especially for a band with death on it’s breath. It’s worth a listen, but it’s not half the album “Nobody Said it Was Easy” is. But then again, neither is just about any rock record that’s come out since.
Alabama Thunderpussy and the Dragons used to play Four Horsemen songs in their live sets, but besides you, me, and Alex Mitchell (Alex and Frank were buddies) nobody much remembers the Four Horsemen anymore. That’s not only a dirty shame, it’s also a big fuckin’ mistake, because if you don’t have “Nobody Said it Was Easy” in your arsenal, then you sure ain’t gonna win the rock and roll war. All the secrets and most of the lies you need to get by are nestled deep within this amazing album. Absolutely essential.
I’m not saying that you have to remember my
first column for the late and great Hitlist Magazine or nothin’,
but the entire thing was written in one bleary-eyed 12-hour session with
this album playing on an endless loop in the background. I have sought
inspiration from the Four Horseman so many times that if I ever
started a church, “Nobody Said It Was Easy” would be it’s
sonic scripture. Talk to me for more than 10 minutes at a stretch, and
you’ll undoubtedly catch me copping one of Frank C. Starr’s lines.
If you have any question at all about what real rock and roll
sounds like, you can stop asking. It sounds like “Nobody Said it Was
Easy”.The Four Horsemen (there were actually 5 of ‘em, by the way) was formed by bassist Kid Chaos (Stephen Harris) in 1988. Chaos has the greatest goddamn pedigree in all of rock and roll. First, the fucker did time in Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction until Ian Astbury stole him for a 1987 Cult tour. Kid screwed up the dream gig by appearing on the Joan Rivers show wearing a Zodiac Mindwarp t-shirt (!), and soon found himself looking for a job. He split the UK and landed in LA, where we changed his name to Haggis, switched to rhythm guitar, wrote a bunch of songs, and formed the Four Horsemen. They quickly released a now scarce 4 song, self-titled EP in ‘89* that laid down the biker-friendly, blue-collar blueprint for their sound. The songs were amped-up classic rockers, with all the hard rock crunch of the Cult mixed with Southern riff rock, and pushed right over the top by Frank Starr’s hyperactive screech**. Critics loved ‘em because they thought all the macho swagger was ironic, and the kids loved them because they knew it wasn’t. The Horsemen started carving out a reputation as authentically bad-ass rock and roll motherfuckers with a series of kill for thrills live shows, and all this AC/DC meets Sturgis biker rally meets Texan roadhouse thunderboogie action quickly caught up to Rick Rubin, who signed them to Def American. In 1990, the band was all set to go to New York and record “Nobody Said It Was Easy”, and success was just around the corner.
Then Frank got busted on a drug charge and went to jail for 6 months. Guess they got the title for the album right.
Eventually he got out, and they recorded the record. It hit the streets in 1991, and fit right in with the whiskey drinkin’, poker cheatin’, tattooed and bruised biker metal aesthetic so gloriously prevalent in the early 90’s (Circus of Power, Junkyard, Little Caesar, and Two Bit Thief were all revving similar engines at the time). “Tired Wings”, the album’s sole (pseudo) ballad, was a shameless Lynrd Skynrd inspired southern rock rambler, and it’s video got a decent amount of airplay on MTV. They toured with the Black Crowes and a cobbled-together almost-Skynrd, and developed a rabid following of bikers, metal heads, and assorted bad asses. Then they started writing songs for their follow-up.
And then, in 1992, Frank got thrown back in jail for a year.
By the time he got out, a lot of momentum was lost, but the band rallied, and work on “Getting Pretty Good… at Barely Getting By” began.
Then, in 1994, drummer Dimwit died of a heroin overdose. He was replaced by his brother, Chuck Biscuits (Danzig), but by that time Haggis had enough of the madness, and left his own band, followed quickly by original bass Ben Pape. Axeman Dave Lizmi and Frank Starr soldiered on.
Then, in 1995, a drunk driver smashed into Frank while he was riding his motorcycle, and he lapsed into a coma. Dave finished the mixing the record, and it was released on American in 1996. Dave hired Ron Young from Little Caesar to cover for Frank, and they toured the album until 1998, when they finally fizzled out. Frank never woke up from his coma, and eventually died in June, 1999.
They say great art often comes from great tragedy, and we might as well
stretch ‘art’ out to include great rock and roll, too. Plenty of bands
have attempted to pull off the hard living, dirty lovin’, full tilt boogie
swagger of the Four Horsemen from the safe confines of tour busses and
fully loaded contract riders (American Pearl, anyone?), but it takes more
than a few bad tattoos and a Harley sponsorship to be a true bad ass. I’m
not saying it takes a fatal motorcycle accident and several years in jail
either, but hell, it don’t hurt. Everything about this band was authentic,
noble, and true, and “Nobody Said It Was Easy” still rocks it like it
talks it, 12 years after its initial release. You’d figure some gang of
gas guzzling outlaws out there would’ve picked up where “Nobody” left off
by now, but aside from the blue collar bar brawl rock of
American Dog and
Ironboss, nobody’s even come close. Three out of the 12 songs on “Nobody Said it Was Easy” have ‘Rock’ in the title, but virtually all of them are about rock and roll, in one way or another. This may seem obsessive to some (pussies, mostly), but it makes perfect sense to me. I don’t think about anything else, either. Kid Chaos…erm, Haggis wrote all the songs on the album, and he did not forget the lessons in big, big rock and roll that he learned from Mark and the fellas in the Love Reaction. In fact, the distinctive Zodiac Mindwarp formula- carve out a mountainous, overdriven riff, and hammer it into the listener’s skull until they are overwhelmed and seeing stars- is in full effect here, although it’s mixed with enough boogie-woogie and shit kicker country to make you think there’s more subtlety on display than there actually is. The Four Horsemen were from Hollywood, after all, no matter how much they’d like you think they rolled off the ranch in Austin, or Tallahassee, or anyplace south of Los Angeles. As dusty and down-home as they were, the Four Horsemen were still, above all, a hard fuckin’ rock band. The legacy of Guns N’ Roses still loomed large in 1990, and echoes of Izzy’s bluesy slide guitar and Axl’s hysterical bitch whine are both present and accounted for on this record. Still, despite all the contemporary influences, the Horsemen sound had a timeless, classic quality to it, and it has not aged a bit over the years.
“Nobody said it Was Easy” kicks off with the rousing title track, a
southern rock stomper
with an infectious riff and a jubilant, hand-clapping, chorus that belies
the bitter truth behind the lyrics. “It’s dirty, it’s a pity, and time ain’t exactly on our side”, Frank explains in the first verse. “But that ain’t no good reason, not to give it a try.” For a band stuck in limbo
while its lead singer rotted in jail for half a year, lines like this are
more than mere rock and roll poetry, they’re a hard-won declaration of
independence. “Don’t look inside the mirror, your time is growing nearer”,
Frank continues, in one of the many self-fulfilling prophecies on this
album. “How many dues do I have to pay, before they take my soul away?”
The answer lies in the chorus, and he’s right. Nobody said it was easy,
and it ain’t. But the rock rolls on. “Rockin’ Is My Business” is up next, and I defy anyone to come up with a song anywhere that rocks harder than this one. Which, really, is what you’d expect from a song with this title. This is the most brazenly cock rock the Four Horsemen ever got, and it’s brilliant. And will anyone ever write another line as cool as “The book of rock and roll, Motherfucker I wrote it”? Nope. No they won’t.
“Tired Wings” is a drawling southern rocker full of Allman Brothers-styled vocal harmonies, and some truly stellar slide-guitar. “Can’t stop Rockin’” speaks for itself, a manic, Chuck Berry-inspired chug-fest that slams right into the moody, droning “Wanted Man”. Things kick back into high-gear with the third in the ‘rock’ trilogy, “Let it Rock”, the most overtly AC/DC copping song on the record. Over what may or may not be the “Let There Be Rock” riff, Frank does his best arena-shaking Brian Johnson as he paints a best case scenario in broad strokes of cock-sure boasting. “Half a year from now we’ll all be millionaires”, he promises, “We’ll be driving our limos to the liquor store”. Ok, so it didn’t quite pan out that way, but hell, that’s no reason not to let it fuckin’ rock, right?
The second half of “Nobody Said it Was Easy” is all burn-down-the-shithouse boogie rock rife with cops on their tail, scorned women, cocaine blues, and dirty deeds done dirt cheap. The high-speed scorcher “Looking for Trouble” is a particular stand-out, especially for the immortal line, “Looking for a piece of ass, looking for a cheeseburger”. I’ve been there myself. Every Saturday night for years, man.
The album closes with the epic “I Need a Thrill/Something Good”, the only
song that the whole band wrote together. The first half is a hook-heavy
hard rocker, which melts seamlessly into the “Something Good” section, a
jamming orgy of wah-wah blues riffs, Hammond organ (courtesy one “Bud”)
and a bombastic gospel chorus. It’s a big ending to a big record. “I need
something good, to get me through the day”, Frank opines, as the song
takes a turn towards the orchestral, “Oh help me lord, there’s gotta be a
better way…” Frank never found it, but just like in all great rock and
roll records, it leaves you with plenty of hope that you, dear rocker,
eventually will find that better way these lonely Horsemen were so
desperately searching for. The ’96 follow-up, “Getting Pretty Good…at Barely Getting’ By” had it’s charms for sure, but was less-focused, featuring more than a few country-fueled jam sessions, and was ultimately too good-time, jivey-jivey for it’s own good. Especially for a band with death on it’s breath. It’s worth a listen, but it’s not half the album “Nobody Said it Was Easy” is. But then again, neither is just about any rock record that’s come out since.
Alabama Thunderpussy and the Dragons used to play Four Horsemen songs in their live sets, but besides you, me, and Alex Mitchell (Alex and Frank were buddies) nobody much remembers the Four Horsemen anymore. That’s not only a dirty shame, it’s also a big fuckin’ mistake, because if you don’t have “Nobody Said it Was Easy” in your arsenal, then you sure ain’t gonna win the rock and roll war. All the secrets and most of the lies you need to get by are nestled deep within this amazing album. Absolutely essential.
*Said screech didn’t come up out of nowhere- Frank’s early rock and roll
career included a stint in early LA glam-metal band
Sin.
Hey, even bad asses wear eye liner sometimes, right?
**Some cat from Amsterdam has a
site entirely devoted to bands that sound like AC/DC- you can hear
MP3's of the EP on it.
-Sleazegrinder