Argh Fuck Kill: The Story of the DayGlo Abortions (18 page)

Not only did Raw Power have a completely different lineup, but the two brothers who fronted this particular group were haughty rock star types who spoke little English. Even Mike, who knew all about being a rock star, could not relate to them. Perhaps worst of all, this band did not bring a beautiful woman with them as the first Raw Power had. Nevertheless, the two bands were stuck with each other for a good handful of gigs, so there was nothing left but to make the most of it.

Later that night, the DayGlos and their Italian guests were ready to move out. The two bands tried to get along because Raw Power were without a vehicle and had to travel with the DayGlos. Although the bus was large, there was no room for big heads. Spud, for his part, advised his fellow DayGlos not to act like rock stars. “I always told the guys to leave their egos at home,” says the bassist/frontman. Rather than hide backstage after shows, Spud liked to hang out near the stage and talk to the kids—although he preferred fans of the female variety. Still, as this author can testify, the DayGlo Abortions were always willing to share a beer with anyone who came along. “I never snubbed anybody in the whole time I was in the band,” Spud claims. Would-be rock stars everywhere should take notes.

Anyway, despite the fact that the DayGlo Abortions and Raw Power could barely communicate with each other (or maybe because of that), the tour went fairly well. This may have had something to do with the fact that the DayGlos were functioning smoothly as a unit by now. Though seemingly wild and out of control, the band was actually structured much like a military organization, or maybe an outlaw motorcycle club. Spud, the fearless commander who led the band and drove the bus, made sure that his troops reached the next town safely. While the troops didn’t always obey Spud’s orders, they counted on him to run the show and fix the bus when it broke down. Second in command was Ferris, who ushered the boys in and out of restaurants and hotels, fielded endless complaints, and settled disputes with the aplomb and dignity of a foreign diplomat. No easy job, considering that taking the DayGlos anywhere was like herding cats.

The bus rolled on. With Ferris as his right-hand man, Spud managed to keep the boys in line. Then there was Jesus Bonehead, who handled much of the day-to-day business. “Bonehead not only knew where the promoter lived when we rolled into town—he knew what the weather would be like and the type of industry they supported,” reports Mike Anus. “He remembers names and dates with the efficiency of a computer.” Spud claims that he also worked hard, sorting out details if shows were messed up when they arrived. Rounding out the pack was Mike Anus and Nev the Impaler. The guitar players pledged allegiance to no one and did as they pleased. Constantly drinking and carousing, the pair could generally be counted upon to do the wrong thing at the wrong time. They were cannon fodder, ready to march blindly into battle for a few beers or a couple lines of blow. Fisticuffs aboard the bus were not uncommon but never serious. The DayGlos saved most of their energy for fighting promoters, club owners, and drunken fans.

The DayGlo Abortions and Raw Power touched down in San Luis Obispo on October 21st, and then doubled back for a gig in Fresno on October 23rd. After that, it was the Rock & Roll Center in Berkeley on October 24th, and The Farm in San Francisco on the 25th with DRI, Verbal Abuse, and Attitude Adjustment. There was white bread and baloney for breakfast and lunch and, if they were fortunate, beer for supper.

In San Francisco, Maddox from Lethal Gospel gave the boys directions to a cheap restaurant several blocks from the club. Maddox specifically warned the DayGlos not to cross the street if the restaurant was closed. The hungry musicians soon discovered that the eatery in question was locked up tight, so they wandered away in search of food. “The next thing I know, we’re surrounded by scary Hispanics wearing wifebeaters and hair nets,” recounts Nev. The Cholos liked Spud’s tattoo so much that they decided to cut off the frontman’s arm and hang it on their wall. The terrified Canadians immediately fled down the street with the angry Hispanics in hot pursuit. Luckily, the gang abandoned the chase at the edge of their turf. Like many other American gangstas, the Cholos led such insular lives that they never left their turf unless riding in a police car or a coroner’s wagon. The encounter made the Canucks realize just how good they had it in Canada, where they were able to enter any neighbourhood at any time of night or day. Proud to be a Canadian indeed.

But the DayGlos would not escape San Francisco scott-free. After sleeping in a promoter’s loft, they discovered that they all had scabies. Apparently, The Mentors, who used the quarters previously, had left the tiny parasites behind as gifts for the next occupants. “We got scabies from The Mentors,” says Nev, with more than a trace of disgust. After this tour, their girlfriends would leave bottles of Kwellada Shampoo outside the door, with strict instructions that the boys wash up at the local YMCA before entering the house. “They wouldn’t even let us inside until we’d shampooed with Kwellada,” chuckles Nev. Girls really hate scabies and crabs.

The DayGlos, having rid themselves of parasites, drove to Sacramento for a show on October 26th. The bands left California altogether and drove all night to reach Salt Lake City for an engagement on October 27th. Since Utah is Mormon country, and the large majority of the citizens do not care at all for punk rock or smelly touring bands, promoters didn’t even put dates on gig posters for fear that the cops would bust the show. Those who wanted to attend had to phone the venue and ask when it would be held. The local kids, it seemed, did not share their parents’ hatred for punk rock.

The DayGlos pushed on through Nebraska, North Dakota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and then back to Illinois. “No matter how drunk we got, how shitfaced or whatever, we always managed to put on a good show—I think,” guesses Mike Anus. “There was a lot of drinking. It was crazy.” The beer may have been cheap, but the Canadian punks missed the stronger beer back home. In Detroit, Spud learned the hard way that the Americans were sensitive about their beer. “All I did was mention that I’d love to have a Canadian beer, and this guy starts getting all aggro. He said that the USA made the best beer in the world, and I had to explain to the guy that our beer was stronger, and that you didn’t have to drink as many to get a buzz. It turned out that he’d never tried beer from anywhere else, but he was ready to go to war!” says Spud, still amazed at the absurdity of the situation. “I woulda killed him though,” adds the bassist/frontman, who was prepared to fight for his country if necessary. Such patriotism is as noble as it is touching.

The DayGlo Abortions escaped Detroit the next day without being murdered for correctly identifying American beer as the bilge water it is. Before long, Jezebel began to make a strange noise, causing Spud to frown. When Jezebel crapped out, the frontman/mechanic could often tell what was wrong by the sounds she made. Mike Anus agrees that Spud was the man who made everything right with the bus. “Whenever something happened, I can remember him hitchhiking down the highway towards the closest gas station,” smiles the guitar player. On one occasion, Spud was able to walk to a nearby parts store and buy another fuel pump. What were the odds of finding an auto parts store within walking distance? Tour busses generally breakdown miles from nowhere at 3:00 AM. In the middle of a hurricane.

Another time, with Raw Power onboard, Jezebel died again. Spud knew by the way the engine stopped that the coil had malfunctioned. The passengers, who didn’t know a coil from a johnson rod, looked anxiously to the frontman for answers. At that moment, the Highway Patrol pulled up and demanded to know what was going on. The rural cop was surprised when Spud told him that the coil had conked out. What could this scruffy punk know about engines? Amazingly, the officer gave Spud a ride into town to buy the necessary part. “I think the cop just wanted to show off the freak to his cop pals,” guesses Spud. The officer then gave the stranded Canadian a ride back to the bus, where he had to give Jezebel a boost before she started. Mission com-plete, the Highway Patrol officer sped off in his interceptor. “That pig looked like your typical fat slob redneck, but he turned out to be a pretty good guy,” muses the bass player/singer. Will wonders never cease.

The band may have been impressed with that cop, but they were less than pleased with Noid, who took it upon himself to procure a new bass amp for Spud after the old one began to act up in Pittsburgh. The only time Noid could have taken the amp was when local cops were grilling the other bandmembers on an unrelated matter. “I’ll give him credit, he had balls,” Spud admits begrudgingly. Still, the theft preceded them and, when they arrived at The Electric Banana in Philadelphia, the club owner was waiting to confront the group. Spud, who knew nothing of the crime, gladly opened the back doors of the bus and was stunned to see the brand new bass amp sitting there. Oddly, the club owner didn’t seem to believe that Spud knew nothing about it. Needless to say, the DayGlos had to return the amplifier, and they were lucky that the other band refused to press charges. The club owner, unfortunately, used the incident as an excuse to withhold the band’s earnings. “He gave us gas money, the prick,” grumbles Spud, who has seen more than his share of unscrupulous booking agents, promoters, and club owners. Every musician has.

After this, and even though Noid’s little heart was in the right place, he was finished with the DayGlo Abortions, who did not wish to be branded as thieves. It was one thing to be known as rowdy, drunken womanizers, and another entirely to be considered untrustworthy. The boys put the disgraced roadie on a bus bound for Vancouver. Sadly, after being struck by a train and confined to a wheelchair, Noid died of a heroin overdose in 1996.

The tour dragged on and on, through Kentucky, West Virginia, Washington DC, Connecticut, and North Carolina. In Greensboro, NC, several Klansmen tried to befriend the band outside a venue. The Nazis, it seemed, were particularly taken with Mike Anus, and gave him a knife with which they had “stabbed a real nigger.” The skinheads also gave the stunned guitarist a KKK joke book and showed him several Polaroid photographs of three black men planting crosses at gunpoint. The DayGlos, who wanted to escape without being killed, quickly made excuses and drove away. The Nazis, not the pointiest hats at the KKK rally, were apparently too stupid to notice that Mike was Aboriginal.

There were other problems with racists. A group of Nazi skinheads in Athens, Georgia told the band not to play “Wake up America,” which they viewed as anti-American. Naturally, the band ignored the warning and played the song immediately, inspiring the skinheads to spit, swear, and brandish chains and brass knuckles. After the show, the bouncers had to lock the bandmembers in a security room while they cleared the venue. “Those skinheads didn’t like that song at all,” laughs Nev. The gig was tense, but the boys lived to play “Wake Up, America” for other Nazis.

Money was tight. At one point, Spud volunteered to put some money he’d saved back into the kitty so the boys could eat. Bonehead, slightly insane from a lack of food, accused Spud of stealing from the band. This was a regrettable mistake because Spud was in a foul mood. “I drew back my fist to hit him and he ducked, so I popped him with my bare foot. I didn’t hit him hard—it was kinda like a slap with my foot,” recalls Spud. The DayGlo leader was so pissed at Bonehead that he pretended to make a phone call, after which he told the boys that he was quitting the band and flying home when they got to the next city. The tour bus was very quiet for the next day or so while Spud stewed and the DayGlos worried. Eventually, the gang earned some more money and the danger passed. By now, the smell of hamburgers grilling was enough to make them drool.

The DayGlo Abortions and Raw Power finally reached New York State, where they met up with the American promoter who went by the telltale moniker of “Johnny Stiff.” The striped-pants, paisley-shirt wearing dude from New York City had an air about him that Spud didn’t like, to say the very least. “I’d talk to him on the phone, and he’d say, ‘Where’s my band?,’ and I’d tell him, ‘Dude, we ain’t your band!’ We were starving half the gawdamn time!” Spud recalls bitterly. It seemed that something went wrong with almost every engagement, and the band almost never received the entire fee that had been negotiated beforehand. Johnny Stiff managed to talk his way out of a beer bottle vasectomy by making promises he could not possibly keep. The slippery guy must have learned how to save his ass in promoter school, where budding young weasels are trained to survive encounters with infuriated musicians.

Interestingly, a promoter in New Jersey—not Johnny Stiff—was a big fan and did a stellar job of promoting the show. The DayGlo Abortions arrived to learn that the 600-capacity venue was sold out, and anticipation for the show was high. The promoter even booked the band on a syndicated TV show known as
The Uncle Floyd Show,
which had inspired
Pee Wee Hermans’
Paul Reubens to start his own heavily-derivative version of the popular children’s program. To kill time while waiting, the promoter told the boys about a newscaster who arrived at a local emergency ward with a live rodent lodged in his rectum, which later inspired Cretin to write “Hide the Hamster.” In fact, the singer got most of his song ideas for the next album from his bandmates, who told him about their adventures on tour. Listeners would assume that Cretin had lived those songs, but he had not. The frontman would eventually tour with the band and get his own material.

At any rate, the DayGlo Abortions were impressed at the workmanlike productivity of the TV studio. The busy station regularly hosted rock bands, and there were a fair number of big-haired rockers in full dress regalia. “Mike just looked at me and asked what we were doing there,” laughs Spud, who wasn’t sure himself at that point. The Canadian punkers did not feel at all as if they belonged with the pretty young men and their shiny new gear. When the band learned that they would be lip-synching their material, they decided to ham it up and not even bother to pretend they were playing their instruments. Taking the initiative, Spud snatched up a push broom to play air bass, leaping about playfully in a childlike manner. The other DayGlos followed suit, and the shoot descended into total silliness. What could have been a dreadful exercise in mainstream rock nonsense was transformed into an amusing little romp. Pee Wee himself would have approved, even though the DayGlos did not visit a porn theatre afterwards.