The Nasty – “Primitive Motive”
So my assignment was to find out who The Nasty was and where they could be found. Who was my client? Let’s just say he’s a man who doesn’t like too many questions and for my health and yours it’s wise to keep your curiosity to yourself. They say “curiosity killed the cat” and I want to keep my puss and yours from being erased.
I got a tip they were the offspring of the members of The Nice- an English progressive rock group of the sixties, well known for blending rock, classical and jazz. That jackass, Keith Emerson, later of the horrible, horrible Emerson, Lake and Palmer played in The Nice. I thought The Nasty who play hardcore, blended with punk and thrash, might just be a mighty kick in the pants to these old farts.
That led to a dead end.
This dame I know, Mitzi, while I was dancing with her at the new club, you know, the Midway Cabaret, in the smoky, dimmed light, noisy atmosphere- I thought she mentioned something about doing “the nasty.” I heartily, agreed. Turns out she was just talking about the band.
“These guys are out of Dover, New Hampshire,” she says to me, “They been around since 2005 but only really got it going since 2009. They’re definitely hardcore but they have a lot of thrash/death metal and grungy garage rock in their music. And this year they’re playing all over Europe…you know, Belgium, Germany, Chicago. I think they could be even bigger than Frank Sinatra.”
After I got my lead I dropped this dame like a hot potato. She may be one hot tomato but I had work to do.
I tracked them down, or at least a trace of them. In fact, I tracked down some of their tracks. My usual resources, like the gin joints and racetracks, didn’t pan out- but bandcamp sure did. It would seem you can track them down here- thenasty.bandcamp.com. I did, so let’s give a listen.
“Viva Las Vatican,” is about that movie where Elvis Presley played a Las Vegas nun. Starting with a trebly bass, a high guitar feedback and a one, two three four were into grungy guitar chords with a guitar lick that sounds like a subway train screeching off the rails. “I owe a lot, but not to you, the Vatican is Vegas, sad but true.” This song is gutsy, powerful, punchy punk-core knocking a hole right through your guts.
[audio:https://www.thrashnbang.com/wp-content/music/08 – Viva Las Vatican.mp3|titles=Viva Las Vatican]
“Worth If For The Worthless,” starts out mellow then it kicks in like a sucker punch of passion and substance. With a guitar chord line that recalls “Live Fast Die Fast” by The Circle Jerks, this song cruises along in a groove that means business and whose business is to rock the sound hard into your soul.
[audio:https://www.thrashnbang.com/wp-content/music/04 – Worth It For The Worthless.mp3|titles=Worth It For The Worthless]
This song could be written by my son, if I had one. “My Dad Is A Drunk” wallops 150 proof hardcore into your system leaving you drunk on the power and energy this song. “When he says he’s on the wagon that just means a DUI.” My dad’s a drunk, my dad’s a drunk, this song is great.
[audio:https://www.thrashnbang.com/wp-content/music/09 – My Dad Is A Drunk.mp3|titles=My Dad Is A Drunk]
“Safe And Sound” is where the metal influence really comes out with a dragging, almost doom-metal beat and some bleating, heavy vocals until the song stops and starts in a heavy slab of concrete venom and passion. “One day we’ll have something, no doubt, to give a fuck about,” – like maybe this song.
[audio:https://www.thrashnbang.com/wp-content/music/07 – Safe And Sound.mp3|titles=Safe And Sound]
“Get Comfortable” has a lot of slashy, grinding chords colliding with emphatic vocals while an Arabian guitar lick descends for a few moments. Then the song pulverizes your senses to death. It’s coming, see your life flash before your eyes, it’s inevitable, so get comfortable.
[audio:https://www.thrashnbang.com/wp-content/music/16 – Get Comfortable.mp3|titles=Get Comfortable]
After I found this CD and listened to their strong combination of Black Flag hardcore, Stooges garage rock and thrash metal ambiance; I thought it passed the mustard and I relished listening to it again and wished that the world would catch up to their sound.
And now that I’ve seen them playing at a few joints and nightclubs I’ve been duly impressed.
I feel obliged to tell you- Keith Emerson was my client. And when I say “was” I mean, that’s in the past. I won’t let him try to corrupt these boys, not for all the tea in China.
I’ve sent him on a wild goose chase. Unfortunately, the boys in Taxi Driver might be soon getting a call.
You ask, “Aren’t you afraid he’ll read about it here?” Oh, no. No need to worry. Because he knows his pompous, half-assed circus classical music won’t be reviewed here. He’ll be checking Rolling Stone, Billboard for sure.
But the honesty of punk, the fury of hardcore, the power and intensity of metal can be had here- here in this tabloid; for a dime or a quarter, I’m not sure which, at any newsstand in the city.
And that can also be had in the music of The Nasty. I bet my life on it. And I bet anything worth of value is thought of worthless during its lifetime; just my observation but then, I am paid to observe.
And I bet Mitzi is still at the Midway Cabaret, amongst the clatter of martini glasses, smoke rings around the ceiling fans- the laughter and chatter amongst the crowd.
I go there. Night is descending on the city. The stars light up above the streetlights. I give a nod to T.J. The doorman and pass my trench coat and fedora to the coast check girl.
I see her sitting with a dangling shoe on the bar side. She looks half in the bag, martini glass in her hand, cigarette butt in her lips. The lips that I want to touch with mine.
It’s just a few feet, a few steps to where she sits. She turns to me as I approach, a half-smile on her lips. Her cigarette ash falls into the ashtray.
And I think- what a dame! What a gal!
(Slimedog)
