MUSICIAN
No. 114 April 1988
by Ed Ward

Big Bald Britons Stare Down America's Gun Sights

Boy George's clothes budget for the first three months of the year could probably outfit all three Blue Messiahs for 1988-'89. Ask New Order what kind of gear they use and you'll have to pack a lunch. The Messiahs' Bill Carter only has to say, "Uh, Telecastuh." Furthermore, they outnumber The Pet Shop Boys three to two.

After only ten minutes with these guys, I think I'm beginning to understand why nobody in Britain has heard of them.

Not that Carter and his two band-mates, bassist Chris Thompson and drummer Kenny Harris, are going to lose any sleep over that. "I make a living at this," he growls, "and you can't make a living playing 'round here. We played Britain, what, twice in 1987?" "Coulda been three times," burrs Harris. "And not at all in '86." "But you see my point," Carter continues. "In Europe you can do well enough to at least break even, and America..."

Ah, yes, America. America inhabits a very interesting place in Messiahs mythology. This is the band that snarled out an amazing version of Hank Williams' "You're Gonna Change Or I'm Gonna Leave" on Gun-Shy, their first album, and on Bikini Red, the second, virtually every song has some American touch-stone, from CB cross-talk on the title track to "55 - The Law" to the assertion that "Jesus Chrysler Drives A Dodge", to the even more shocking declaration that "I Can Speak American."

"Well, yeah," says Carter, a citizen of a country where gas costs $3.50 a gallon who recently traded his mid-'70s Camaro for a Dodge Challenger. "I've always found the U.S. an interesting sort of place. I mean, it's very new for us. This is the old country here. With your films, your cars, it's sort of like an adult playground. Adults aren't really catered for in Europe. On the other hand, I don't think the U.S. is any sort of place to bring up children. I'll tell you what sums it up for me: In America, the old-age pensioners wear Bermuda shorts!"

Plus, of course, there's blues. Keep the band talking and there will soon be mention of blues. Although Carter seems to hate to discuss influences, a discerning listener can easily spot the more demented side of roackabilly (the kind the Cramps turned into a nightmare cartoon) side by side with a definite Beefheartian angularity, which itself is fed by the music of the master of angular flow, John Lee Hooker, the only name Carter will admit. Chris also admires ex-Fabulous Thunderbirds bassist Keith Ferguson quite a bit, while Kenny defensively mentions that the band consider his tastes too mainstream. Like? "Like AC/DC," he says, as the room dissolves in hoots.

"But I like what we do," Carter says, anchoring the conversation again. "I like anything when it's exciting. Like PIL's single 'Rise'. There's just a handful of things like that, things that actually touch a nerve. Things like Doctor Feelgood's early stuff, things that whip up a storm." This the Messiahs definitely do. I first encountered them on a San Francisco college radio station when Gun-Shy came out and the station was going nuts playing "Smash The Market Place". Although the lyrics were hard to make out, it was an exciting radio song, and I decided that after years of turning into lazy, self-indulgent rock stars, the Clash had finally made another great record. When that turned out not to be the case, I was left to contemplate the idea of a British band that wanted to make that kind of impact in 1986.

"Well," Carter says grandly, "I think it's possible for this band to be a major force to be reckoned with. I certainly don't want to go down. It's go up or give up. No, this band has the potential to make music people will listen to. I haven't heard a band recently with that edge to get it across. There's room that now. I truly think we should be a world-famous R&B band."

That's something Bill Carter's been trying to do for some time now. He was an art school student 12 years ago when punk exploded, and ran around looking for people to join his dream band, almost (at least to hear him tell it) snagging Joe Strummer, but getting there just a little too late. He kept on painting, listening to R&B and dreaming, and finally got a four-piece called Motor Boys Motor together. A record for Stiff went nowhere, and, predictably, the band fell apart. Carter and his bassist, Chris Thompson, weren't about to surrender though. So they recruited Kenny Harris from Scotland, and the Messiahs were born. An indie EP did well enough for Warners U.K. to sign them, and Elektra picked them up for stateside distribution. So far, they've done okay, but they haven't blown apart any sales records. But Carter still has his dreams.

"The thing is." he declares, "I'd like to make a record you'd like to play all the time. Like 'Rise', which I think you can put on any time at all and it sounds right. I'd like to make something great, but that's easier said than done."

So what has to be done? He's dipped far into his obsession with America and come out with a doozie: "I Wanna Be A Flintstone." It's a record that in many ways encapsulates the Messiahs' sound, with a rhythmic thrust that sounds like Bo Diddley falling down several flights of stairs, enigmatic but comprehensible lyrics, and plenty of references to the Hanna-Barbera TV show. The song's video shows the band floating around space and has plenty of clips from the cartoon in it. It does look like the closest thing the Messiahs have had to a hit so far.

And that might not be a good thing in the long run. When a band establishes itself with a song that is perceived as a novelty, it can become imprisoned by that track. If "Flintstone" becomes a huge record, America's teenagers might not buy its followup unless it's about the Jetsons. (Or more likely, America's program directors might not program it.) Bill Carter might spend the rest of his career yelling "Yabba-dabba-doo" to slowly diminishing crowds. This suggestion pisses him off.

"What 'Flintstone' is is the tip of the iceberg. We have to get in the door. It was not recorded as a novelty track. We play it live and it is a credible track. Look at the imagery in any track we've recorded – you'll find the same thing. This was just the most direct tune of the ones we've had." But after he's had a minute to cool off, he does relent a little bit. "I guess it is unfortunate in some ways that 'Flintstone' is the one getting the airplay., but we're not ashamed of any of the tracks we've recorded."

Nor would I suggest that they should be. I just hope that those in charge of such things see to it that the band isn't relegated to novelty status, that's all. After all, the Messiahs are a lot of fun, what with their solid back-beat and weird lyrics. "Our lyrics are not weird," Carter insists. "you can have a lot of fun with lyrics." Right. Lyrics like "I can speak Ameri-can / Like Lois Lane and Charlie Chan / And Superman" aren't weird. Of course, the lyrics are only weird (or not, as you choose) when you can hear them, and one of the hallmarks of the Messiahs' sound is a sort of grungy murkiness in which the guitar dominates.

While nervously awaiting the outcome of "Flintstone"'s run on the charts, Carter's not anticipating any major changes in the band except the size of the halls they play, but he does foresee some evolution. "Well, I hope so. I mean, I think it will be churned up a bit more. I don't really know what form it'll take, though. I'd like to hit a vibe. Like ZZ Top hit a vibe with Eliminator, they clicked into a great feeling. I know one thing I'd like to do is to have the high point of our gigs recorded. I'd really love to do a good live album, but that's definitely not an easy thing to accomplish.

"I guess what I'd ultimately like to do is to find a rhythm that's a sort of signature. Things like Bo Diddley – that rhythm has lasted for years. Like hip-hop or reggae, something you hear and say 'Ah!'" Another lofty ideal, you say, but I don't know. There is something about the tenacity of Bill Carter's vision and his drive for success that makes me think that if anybody can make something this idiosyncratic yet basically rocking popular, the Screaming Blue Messiahs can.

I mean, one thing's for sure; unlike a lot of other bands in Britain that I could name, they damn sure aren't gonna make it on their haircuts.