Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, August 10, 1995 TAG: 9508100017
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CHRIS HENSON
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
From this humble flier, tacked up all over Blacksburg eight years ago, a band was born. Its sound was a tour de farce - an alloy of metal, country, thrash, KISS and Burt Bacharach. The members' look - even worse.
This was "Bad Tequila Experience." They helped a lot of us vapid college perma-students close out the '80s. Like a lumpy salve on an old rash, they got rid of the itch but left us feeling oily. And then they were gone.
The guitarist, Chris Impelliterri, joined the Peace Corps and is now at Old Dominion University doing graduate geology work. Bob Braddock, who answered the ad for a bass player, is now an architect in Georgetown. And drummer Jay Lugar, from Roanoke, is a big-shot PR guy in Richmond.
Sounds encouraging? Hardly!
It is my dubious honor to inform you that - God help us - BTX is back! They'll be playing at the WROV Music Underground Showcase on Saturday night in the Iroquois.
Think of an old friend, the kind that kids around a lot, the "leg-puller," the "gotcha-again" guy. That's what Bad Tequila Experience is all about. While they are a great hard-rocking omni-band, you're never quite sure if they're serious or not. They do a bizarre mix of covers from metal to easy-listening (relatively).
But the craziest things are their start-and-stop, quick-change originals. They seem to write songs just so they can give them weird names.
"Some of our favorite titles," says Lugar, "are things like 'Death Row Hippie,' 'Psychic Friends' and 'Please, Don't Call the Police.'" This from a man who has played in bands called The Apes of Wrath, Ashtray Baby Heads, and my personal fave, The Abdo Men.
He's in good, though odd, company. BTX has played all around Virginia with bands like Southern Culture on the Skids, Gigolo Aunts, Waxing Poetics and the Yams from Outerspace.
Maybe this is why people learn to play music - so they can name their band. (I myself played in a group called The Jazz Impostors from Hell - but that was more a descriptive term than anything.)
Look at Strawberry Alarm Clock. What was that big hit of theirs ...? It's not on the tip of your tongue; it's not even in your house. And how about Mungo Jerry? Jethro Tull even? What were they thinking?
"I've got a far-out band name, man! Let's learn to play some tunes!"
"Well, our name came from a real bad tequila experience," says Lugar, reminiscing. "It all started at a Replacements concert in Charlottesville. We were young and sort of crazy. It was an experience, a bad one, that we'll never remember."
How bad? At 4 in the morning Lugar was caught banging on Paul Westerberg's (he was the lead singer for the Replacements) door, calling him names and shouting, "Come on out and party!" Let's just say the hotel security got involved.
"They're really all about the inevitabilities of dealing with tequila," says Ellen Flaherty, a long-time groupie and songwriter for the band. She's proud of how the fellows have turned out. "They're more sober, more serious now. The band is tighter," she says. "And they have real lives."
"The Music Underground" is a radio show that airs Monday nights from 10:30 to midnight on WROV. Flaherty, the station's program director, created the program as a venue for alternative bands. Three years ago she put the show on stage and the Music Underground Showcase was born.
"The purpose is basically to get kids to come out to see live alternative music," she says, "and to give some local and regional talent some exposure." She says the shows usually happen two or three times a year, and they're pretty darned popular.
Saturday night's show also will feature The Make, a Roanoke band, and a band of New River Valley rockers called Visible Shivers. These are two well-established regional acts doing off-the-beaten-path stuff. The big fun starts at 9 and costs a mere four bucks at the door. But get a load of this: A limited number of free tickets are available at the Record Exchange. Pretty keen.
Speaking of band names, here's a cool one: Innocent Nixon. This Blacksburg band features a big, fat sound, some jangly guitar work, and a solid focus on great tunes.
They played a great set at a recent AIDS benefit. They've got this retro-groovy thing going. The lead singer has a sort of Elvis Costello stance and wears a necktie.
He's flanked by two women who belt out their vocals confidently. They do a sort of Betty and Veronica thing that gives the band an "Archies" vibe at first. Then they do a song called "I'm Gonna Kill My Girlfriend," which is raw and heavy and definitely not from any kid's cartoon.
I tried calling Innocent Nixon this week, but got their answering machine. I guess you could say they were "not available for comment."
So what? They're playing tonight at Awful Arthur's downtown. (Sometimes I think people open restaurants just so they can name them.) You really shouldn't miss this band. Then, maybe we can finally put this Watergate fiasco behind us.
All right, so you have your assignments for the weekend.
But don't forget to practice your guitar licks and work on your keyboard chops. Jump up and down a little and maybe write some goofy lyrics.
And keep your eyes peeled for that flier, the one that says: "Musician Wanted! Must be totally misunderstood, sensitive and demented. And must have a van."
And if a strange band name comes to you, JOT IT DOWN! That and a few simple chords could be your ticket out of here.
It's working for these guys.
by CNB