LOVE GRENADE – TED NUGENT
A Critical Review and
Appraisal by Martin “Dick” Dastardly-Aston,
OK. Here we go again
– more post-adolescent guitar hooliganism by the world’s most naughty boy, Uncle
Ted mounts the trusty steed of contention and continues to boldly go where no
other white-boy has ever dared, delving deep in to the shock-pit from which he
draws his vital energies to deliver blow after blow of decadent hedonistic
bombast pleasure to those who dare take the time and endure the effort (and it
is an
effort) to traverse though the chapters of latest album offering, Love
Grenade.
Why such an effort?
Well, this is not music recommended for those who suffer tinnitus, or are prone
to nervous disposition. It is LOUD, LOUD LOUD
ouch. God it’s
loud. Not that I can hear much of it anyway because I’m still suffering
withdrawal symptoms from three front-row UK live Nugent performances last year,
and my hearing is muddy at best. In fact now I come to mention it, I don’t think
my hearing ever fully recovered from 1980 at Manchester
Apollo!
Rumour has it that
when Ted played Sheffield City Hall in 1977 it was so loud that the balcony was
in danger of giving way, the mirror ball was swinging precariously above the
heads of the crowd, and the management pulled the plug a couple of songs into
the set and made Uncle Ted and the boys have an early night! Yowza! Value for
money there then J
But how do you start
to write an accurate critical review of something as off–the–wall as Ted
Nugent’s new album, Love Grenade, without first reminding yourself of the
magnificence of those legendary 70’s albums, Ted Nugent, Free-For-All, Cat
Scratch Fever, Double Live Gonzo and Weekend Warriors? Never has such energy
been burned into little grooves of vinyl (if anyone can remember vinyl). AC/DC
came close to matching Ted’s astonishing ability to draw out the caveman
instinct in the listener, on the “Let There Be Rock” excursion, but very few
others have ever come close. Erm…let me see…no; can’t think of any other
band/artist in the history of mankind capable of causing such a furore. Not even
the Sex Pistols. I got expelled frum skool because of my Ted obsession, and
spent 30 years having regular psychiatric help having been exposed to such DeadlyTeddly (DT) doses at such an early age. So beware, get
yer noddy suit on before you even consider plonking this latest CD
on.
Right then (cracks
fingers eagerly), where do we start? First track up
…
“LOVE GRENADE”
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhh.
YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa
Ouch,
NO MORE, NO MORE!!! OW FER GOD’S SAKES TURN IT DOWN TED WHAT’S YER MISSUS THINK
TO ALL THIS??!!!!
“I am a dangerous
weapon baby; I’m yer machine gun man!” Ted. Don’t ya think at your age you
should be puttin’ yer feet up a bit mate? Bring it on. This is a BRILLIANT
opening track, full of teenage energy from the world’s youngest rockin’ grandad.
I once read that Joe Perry of Aerosmith sounded like a dustbin rattlin’ down a
concrete staircase, but this sounds like a division of Waffen SS brothel
creepers on the rampage oh my god what’s up next?
Ah yes,
“Still
Raising Hell” GET YO GUNZ. Uncle
Tommy Clufetos has been let out of the happy-home asylum for ex-Ted Nugent musos
just long enough to bang the dustbinz as hard as his pair of four by two stix
will allow. Guess he’s back in straightjacket cuckoo-land now with his
headphones gaffa-taped to his ear holes tryin’ to come down off it. Poor lad’ll
be there for years after this. Ouch. This one hurts, keep it away from grandma
or you’ll be facing a law-suit.
Next up Uncle Ted
gives us a bit of a rib-tickle “ride ‘em cowboyzzzzz giddy-up, giddy-up” then
tells us all about the virtues of higher education (in making a fokkin’ awful
racket) in “Funk
U”. Hope Ted’s
neighbours are amicable because it sounds like this album was recorded in Ted’s
basement with minimal recording process interference, just turn EVERYthing to
FIFTEEN and fuck George Bush next door!!! “TED….TED…KIDZ ARE IN BED – FUNK OFF
UNCLE GEORGE – ERR OK UNCLE TED, YOU’RE THE
GAFFER!”
Guess Uncle George should move over rover
and let Teddy take over ‘cos Uncle Osama would have to capitulate if you stuck
him in a room and blasted this at him like they did to Malcolm McDowell in “A
Clockwork Orange”. Fuck
This is great so far,
a fucking riot. The best time you could ever have in your life. There doesn’t
seem to be any hint that Ted is suffering from teef and gumz trouble or
arthritis yet as some would have us believe. This is just inspirational, finely
honed mayhem designed to light a nuclear fire of aboriginal spirit into the
unsuspecting listener. It is not Heavy Metal, never was it, never shall it be.
It is just Rock ‘n’ Roll maxed to the Nth degree, non-polluted by fidgety record
company execs trying to force feed the masses with drivel, just PURE. A
scientific experiment in sonic blitzkrieg without having to resort to
“devil-worship” tactics or other gimmicks aimed at the not-so-bright average
heavy-metal dumpling brain.
Twat
----
Right then now I’m back
from my latest visit to the Ted quack, next up, “Girl
Scout Cookies”. I’ve always enjoyed
stickin’ me fingers into the cookie jar and pullin’ out them custard creams, so
this one is right up my street. Nice bit of guitar drumming sets up the
grumbling detuned riff (interesting that ever since Full Bluntal Nugity Ted has
detuned by a semitone to thicken the guitar sound and make the high vocal notes
easier to yell - them bloody Byrdlands are feisty sonsofbitches for handling
this kind of treatment, but obviously Ted has fitted a titanium truss rod down
not only his twousers but the neck of the Byrdland as well). Ted eats so many of
them cookies here that it is a wonder that he didn’t regurgitate like the Asian
wench on epicac roulette. Them butter creams go down a treat but they come back
with a vengeance when ya stuff yer face full of ‘em…now where’s the
bucket.
“It’s a Journey baby!”
Well we read all about the original Amboy Dukes cover being adorned with “bongs
and other drugs paraphernalia”, but I personally think Ted was more addicted to
them Girl Scouts’ Cookies on the video on Full Bluntal Nuge dancin’ in the
background. It is of course possible to “Journey
to the Centre of the Mind” by
reading books and educatin’ yourself about the wonders of the Universe without
smokin’ camel dung, but I think Ted’s mates were tokin’ a bit in those days, but
hey…what’s changed! Old Cochise and his mates were doing a bit around the old
aboriginal campfire and concocting all kinds of alternative theoretical concepts
in hypothetical space and time travel in between servicing the wenches and
chasing buffalo. So it is no surprise that Uncle “Geronimo pops up with Sitting
Bull, Crazy Horse and
Ted”
to lambast the white
boyz for slaughtering all the buffalo again, along with the Baby Please Don’t Go
riff that got away on Double Live Gonz, and an interesting jazz-blues chord
progression that works a treat in context with the drive of the main chord
sequence. Very good.
“Eaglebrother” is next
up, hints of Workin’ Hard Playin’ Hard quickly surface again, as they previously
did on the run-out to Earthtones on Craveman. But that’s no bad thing because
the oldies are still the goldies. Sonic experimentation abounds here, another
Hibernation type interlude that works nicely in context with the pervading
themes of the whole of Love Grenade. Ted has always managed to maintain the
interest factor in his instrumental tunes, using repetitive phraseology to
reinforce the thematic characteristics of a tune, and this is no exception.
Unusual drum patterns suggest the Indian ritual campfire dance element, and the
bass gallops along well, ably played by Uncle Bazza Sparks, who seems to have
been able to stave off the onset of nervous twitch disorder adequately well to
keep suffering a daily Nuge onslaught. 10/10 for effort, ability and devotion to
duty, Barry.
Ted goes minor on “Spirit
of the
Ted loses his marbles
a bit on “Aborigine”, but it is all in
good fun, a characteristic evident throughout the whole of this very
entertaining album.
“Stand” stands as the best
track on the album. The octave divided guitar interspersions create the
atmosphere of mystery as to why our fave Uncle thinks he can resolve all of
society’s ills by brash rhetoric aimed at pissing people rather than talking
intellectual politics backed-up by sound social policy. Is there a place in rock
‘n’ roll for politics? Clearly so, but this harangue will soar way over the
heads of the stoned hippies Ted is railing against here. The guitar parts are
great however; I personally think that this chord sequence is one of the best
Ted has ever put together. The anger is well-managed though and credit to Ted
for his courage in awaiting the flak that is inevitably soon going to come
raining down from the masses who want to protect their “right” to
recidivism.
“Broadside” - The Rolling
Stones: exhibitors of the good, the bad and the ugly. These boys were naughty
boy Brits who have delved into many of the excesses that Ted finds offensive,
yet he still cites them as his fave band. As Brits we are honoured that the
world’s greatest surviving rock star takes influences from the spit and drool of
Jagger and the grooves of the bordello type riff such as “The Last Time” and
“Satisfaction”. “Paperback Writer” was in evidence in “Just What the Doctor
Ordered”, but the riff here also manages to dodge and weave around without
plagiarism. Aerosmith were heavily influenced by the 60’s Brit invasion, and
Ted’s Aerosmith influences enhance Broadside. What goes around comes around. It
would have been great to have a Tyler/Perry guest spot on this track, one of my
favourites of Love Grenade.
Closing track
“Bridge
Over Troubled Daughters” causes
a smirk and powers along in the similar vein of the rest of the album, not so
riff heavy as previous album offerings such as the immortal Weekend
Warriors, but nevertheless
fluent and lucid. Wonder if Simon and Garfunkel dare tackle
Klstrphk?
Bonus live track
“Lay
With Me” dedicated to the
Funk Bros and James Brown features Damn Yankee Jack Blades on bass and
hoochie-cooches along quite amicably and would be great in the Royal Oak jam
night, Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England every Wednesday night at 8 o’clock,
subject to Mandy giving you a gig Ted ‘cos she’s a right bitch! You wouldn’t
want to lay with her lads. Drive safely.
The
Verdict’s In
Your honour, I suggest
to you that Ted Nugent has once again been a very naughty boy and wasted a lot
of time making a thoroughly obnoxious and rude record, aimed at those with the
intelligence of a lump of buffalo shit.
However his saving grace is that he
thoroughly believes in the cleansing power of buffalo shit – tatonka, therefore
there is validity in the argument that a healthy dose of buffalo shit is good
for the spirit, and thus reduces recidivistic crime. I suggest that policy
should be drawn in the Houses of Parliament which makes the study of all Ted
Nugent’s work mandatory in
Therefore the sentence
for these heinous crimes should be a few hours community service teaching kids
how to make a horrid noise which really pisses off the neighbours but serves
communal good through the spreading of music as a communicative medium capable
of many therapeutic powers. None can do it better, yer honour, now
FOKK
OFF!
***********
11/10
STARS TED.
A few spewwin’ mistakes, and bad use of
gwammer. Could do better - MA
OFFICE!
Martin
“Dick” Dastardly-Aston, UK, idiot.
PS Get that bloody
grenade out of that bird’s gob, your acting like the sheriff of
UNCLE
TED KICKS ASS MAJOR LEAGUE ‘COS HE’S A ROCK ‘N’ ROLL BALL
YANKER
