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Rating: I believe in something crazy. Something abstruse. The day Bukowski impregnated poetry, it must have been the same day when, due to a predestined astral conjunction, five women in Australia got pregnant without any idea that their copulation would give life to what I am about to discuss. Which, in the end, is what has occupied my life. If none of your "whys" has even a question mark left, if life is the last thing you have to lose, if you'd go for the ugliest girl because she does it better and not the prettiest because she's a wooden plank, if for you a day as a homeless is better than a hundred as a bourgeois, if the outcasts and not the perfect ones spark your curiosity, well. Actually, bad. Because it means you've reached the point where the Rose Tattoo are for you.
An exegesis of the band - yes, you heard right - might seem inappropriate and pretentious, but those who think this are people for whom life has gone well, they're university students with dad's money in their pockets who maybe for a year got stuffed with pills and alcohol and think they've become the worst rag in the situation, they're rock enthusiasts who admire form, they're art critics who don't know Giotto. The Rose Tattoo are for pure semiotic analysis: a signifier so bombarded with meanings that it shatters the Chinese ideogram where if you get the accent wrong, the slant-eyed understand whistles for flasks. And of straw-covered flasks, the five tattooed drifters will have sucked many, to the health of rock n'roll.
Let's see. The band's aesthetics would make everyone shudder, and those few who would find it pleasing are the few who'd whisper in your ear "come, come, I'll introduce you to some great ones, sure they're losers, but great". Ugh. Playing there are four hulks divided into categories: jail leftover drunk, obese Maori, puffed-up German, smelly Briton. On vocals, everything but what could embody a frontman's body: Angry Anderson, the bald dwarf. In theory, a stage presence to empty venues. In practice, I, the exegete, tell you that mistreated rock is all here, in this appearance that coincides with substance. The Rose Tattoo are what you see, nothing more, nothing less. They are five scarred teddy bears whose hides could be used to upholster the walls of kitsch homes. That's it. Rock is raw, what is in fashion today is the opposite of rock.
Even what the Rose Tattoo say is very simple and direct. "I don't need lots of people, tellin' me what to do. I don't need a long-haired lady, to love me true as true. All I need is a rock n'roll band, somewhere new to play. And I'm on my way, I'm on my way. I'm a rock n'roll outlaw and I'm on the run. I'm a rock n'roll outlaw I never needed anyone.". From the Gospel according to the tattooed rose, verses 1-4, passage: "Rock n'Roll Outlaw". The immediacy of songwriting that forgoes baroque elements to speak directly in a language loved and still loved by many, but written in the DNA of few, is like that class assignment from a classmate who wrote without virtuosity but stated damn truths. And you there questioning why, despite having written the word "idiosyncrasy," you scored lower than him. Because he is true, he is the disarming truth, he is a way of living descended to earth and made into word. But he is clever, because rock is clever. He managed to escape crucifixion preferring what might seem like a cowardly escape, while instead it is just settling on the sidewalks that correspond to him and that tell bitter truths, a desire for redemption, stories of whores, martyrs, and picaros.
We have thus reached the point. If you are trying to understand where prostituted rock was born, you don't need to go to California but to the land of kangaroos. If you are looking for the records of this poetry of the poor, you have to go to the archives of Albert Productions and not look in the 80s file. I know the path. Seventies shelf, folder 1978, subfolder Rose Tattoo. That's where you will find the band's debut album, also named after street rock.
The music. A filthy and slobbery hard rock, amalgamated with a spit of boogie. It's all simple because it's all radical, roots. With Rose Tattoo, sold in Europe starting from 1982 under the title of Rock N' Roll Outlaw, you will feel like holding in your hands the constitutional paper of rotten rock. The lyrics, free from any ties to bourgeois theorization, seem like precepts and rules. Words telling you how to live, what to drink, where to go, when to screw, why to make one choice and not another. So much for "there is no more religion." There is indeed. The music knows no anchors to anything. It is a battle rock n'roll that points the way to those who then, in the 80s, decided to travel it to the end. Imagine if people who hadn’t found the word compromise in the dictionary even in front of women pulled it out in their work. And indeed, in their music, there are no off-key notes. The compromises are at zero. Just as nations have an anthem, rock has one too, and I'm not kidding.
The already mentioned "Rock n'Roll Outlaw" (The rock n'roll outlaw) is the manifesto, the testament that the genre has left to those who could not live the wave. This is poetry because the elementary and accountant-like metrics are still precise and place pillars supporting great concepts. I could tell you about all the other songs, but the model is that. Drunken music, alcohol that becomes stinky sweat, by preachers in the desert, by random screwing. Then you wake up and have no time to repent because you're already soaked in the fluids of which you don’t care about the taste, but only about the volume of high. "Remedy", "The Butcher & Fast Eddie", "Astra Wally". They are all pieces of inestimable symbolic value. "Nice Boys", which the very first Guns N'Roses performed at the beginning of their career in live shows, is indicative of how this music wanted to be exclusive towards decent folks. Neat, precise boys and daddy’s boys don’t do rock n'roll. That’s how what is apparently inadvisable and unfriendly self-proclaims as anti-diva. And not anti-diva.
This album paved the way for the 80s of sleaze and tough glam. AC/DC worshipped them. To me, in fact, they're comfortably below them. If you still haven't given them a chance, you're the ones who've missed out.
Tracklist and Lyrics
03 The Butcher and Fast Eddy (06:32)
It happened in the suburbs north of the river
Where the smokestacks scrape the air
And gangs of short haired boys roam the streets
Get out of there way, 'cause there out to get there share
Now Butcher, he was the leader
Had a reputation for being tough but fair
He knew life was just a gamble
So he lived from day to day without a care
Stick around and I'll tell ya
About Butcher and Fast Eddy
Across the river lived Fast Eddy
He was known to be treacherous, very mean
Even Eddy's sweet young sister out on the streets
Just a girl, barely fifteen
Now Fast Eddy, he led the rival gang
And he claimed he was better...than most
One day I'm gonna fix that Butcher
Always seemed to be this cocky braggart's boast
There's only the quick and the dead
I wanna know who's layin' down
Now, I'm gonna win this fight said Eddy
Yeah...'cause I'm gonna take a knife, and I'm gonna take a gun
But Butcher, he told his mates as they gathered 'round
I got two good fists, and you know I never...
Never ever ever been afraid of anyone
And it came the night, at last for their meeting
I can't lose said Eddy, 'cause I'm the best
But the cold light of morning found Eddy
His own switchblade knife...buried deep in his chest!
Yeah that's it all....Oh-WOW Butcher, and Fast Eddy
Yeah that's it all
And the law never did touch Butcher
And I'm so glad, 'cause I know so well
He was a born with a wild free spirit, and he never...
He never was the kind that could live locked up in some dirty stinkin' cell
And the kids, they still talk about it
In the back streets and alleyways around town
They still talk about that cold, windy Saturday night
That old Butcher...ya know, he put Fast Eddy down...
05 Remedy (03:01)
Get outta the streets, get outta your cage
Start thinkin' sharp you gotta get some rage
Set yourself free, set yourself free
Good rockin' music is all you need
It's gonna save your head, it's gonna save your soul
That good old fashioned, good time remedy they call rock'n'roll
Ain't no time for settlin' down
You got a whole lot of noise to make in this town
Rock'n'roll that's been goin' around
You gotta, pick it up and start layin' it down
It's gonna save your head, it's gonna save your soul
That good old fashioned, good time remedy they call rock'n'roll
Rock and roll!
Don't waste my time with fancy prancin'
Just rock and roll and get everybody dancin'
Take your worries and throw 'em away
They'll make you old, they're gonna make you gray
It's gonna save your head, it's gonna save your soul
That good old fashioned, good time remedy they call rock'n'roll
Good time rock'n'roll
Good time rock'n'roll
Ow! Good time rock'n'roll
Good time rock'n'roll
Good time rock'n'roll
Baby you know they call it
Baby you know they call it rock'n'roll!
Momma you know they call it
Momma you know they call it rock'n'roll!
07 T.V. (02:02)
You're tellin' me everything's alright
You know you tell such filthy lies
The common cold's got nothin' on you
You're a disease from which I die
You make love to my senses
Tryin' to win my heart
I ain't got no defenses...I'm beaten from the start
You insult my intelligence
While you pat me on the back
You give me something with one hand
While the other hand takes it back
You make love to my senses
Tryin' to win my heart
I ain't got no defenses no...got me beaten from the start, yeah
You cater to ?? fantasy
The web you weave is strong
You make it so hard seein' black from white
Tellin' right from wrong
You brainwash me senseless
Tearin' my brain apart
I ain't got no defenses...you got me beaten from the start, yeah
You got me beaten from the start
You got me beaten from the start
You got me beaten from the start
You got me beaten from the start
You make love to my senses
You got me beaten from the start
08 Stuck on You (03:58)
My babe said she won't be home tonight
Says she's got a lover well...that's alright
Hey little schoolgirl, won't you come home with me
We'll drink some Coca Cola, and watch my color t.v.
Yeah, sing it ??
Hey babe I'm stuck on you
Hey babe I'm stuck like glue
Hey babe you know I'm stuck on you stuck on you
Like a Rose Tattoo
I had a colored parrot, but it made me cry
I just forgot to feed it, and the little bugger died
I had a fish named Sam, he lived in bowl
I heated up the water, so he wouldn't get cold
Now he's gone, now he's gone
Hey babe I'm stuck on you
And hey babe I'm stuck like glue
Hey babe I'm stuck on you stuck on you
Like a Rose Tattoo...yeah, yeah yeah
Oh babe, stuck on you
Oh babe, I'm stuck on stuck on you
??? I love you true
Hey babe, you know...
You know you got me stuck like glue
Stuck on, stuck on, stuck on you
Hey babe...yeah
09 Tramp (02:39)
Oh babe is such a tramp
Screamer creamer, a trick in the camp
You're sittin' on the fella's faces
Helpin' them live their wildest dreams
The seam in your jeans has disappeared
And I know where it's gone
Screamin' and dyin' deep inside
I know it's gone their alone
I know when you're wearin' a dress
You're not wearin' nothin' else
Except that cheeky smile on your face
Momma you got a certain sluttish grace
You're such a whore but your honesty glows
Like a badge you have won
You worn the boards right into the floor
You've only just begun
You're just a rag but you're not a bag
Indeed what makes me cry
Three hours later I'm a gammy leg, you're still waitin'
My balls are dry
The seam in your jeans has disappeared
And I know where it's gone
Screamin' and dyin' deep inside
I know it's gone their alone
Yes I know, yes I know, yes I know
I know it's gone their alone
Yes I know, yes I know, yes I know
I know it's gone their alone
Momma I'm a down
You got me down
Down on my knees and I'm screamin and dyin'
Down on my knees you got me screamin and cryin'
Ooh babe, Ooh babe
It ain't easy to take it mama
It ain't easy to take it mama
10 Astra Wally (05:58)
Astra Wally he's a real mean cat
He gets around with caps in his hat
He looks at pain with a nod and a wink
Oh Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun thing
Astra Wally he's a super cool
Oh when the time we we're goin' to school
He gets around in a Jag Mark 10
Go do a deal Wally, go kill a friend
Go do a deal Wally...kill another friend
Go do a deal Wally...kill another friend
Astra Wally ?? to see
He don't get shot, he go by O.D.
The cops catch Wally take the wind from his sails
It ain't too funky comin' down in jail
It ain't funky baby...comin' down in jail
It ain't funky mama...comin' down in jail
It ain't funky comin' down
It ain't funky, it ain't funky
It ain't funky, it ain't funky mama
Astra Wally is a real mean cat
He gets around with cat's in his hat
He looks at pain with a nod and a wink
Oh Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun thing
Astra Wally...you super fun think
Think...think...think...think...think
Think...think...think...think...think
You super fun thing
Oh, Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
Astra Wally you're a super fun thing
It ain't funky comin' down in jail...
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