Tag Archives: Limp Bizkit

Rocks In The Attic #588: Various Artist – ‘The Wrestling Album / Piledriver: The Wrestling Album 2’ (1985 / 1987)

RITA#588I recently saw The True Story Of Wrestlemania, a 2011 documentary produced by the WWF (I refuse to refer to the organisation by any other initials). I really enjoyed it, not only to see the years I knew like the back of my hand (Wrestlemanias I through VII), but also for the years after that I’d missed, after I’d…er…grown up.

I have a real soft spot for that classic era of WWF. I don’t regret missing the so-called ‘Attitude’ era of the late ‘90s where everybody seemed to wear black, guzzle beer and walk to the ring to awful music from the likes of Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park, but that first six or seven years was a technicolour blast of entertainment I really loved at the time.

RITA#588bSo it wasn’t a hard decision to pick up this two-LP set a few years ago on Record Store Day. The original 1985 record is presented in clear red vinyl, while the 1987 follow-up is presented in clear yellow vinyl. But it’s not the first time that I’ve owned The Wrestling Album.

In 1990, a friend introduced me to WWF, and from Wrestlemania VI onwards, I was hooked for a solid two years or so. I was such an addict, I would spend all my pocket money and paper-round money on anything wrestling-related, which to begin with was very sparse. Sky TV had the rights to transmit WWF in the UK, and as I was the first person that we knew to get Sky, I became the supply guy, taping shows and sharing them with friends at school.

RITA#588cIt took the rest of the UK a little while to catch on, but eventually other things started filtering through. I still remember the day when my local newsagent started stocking the official WWF magazine – the July 1990 edition featuring Macho King Randy Savage. A short while later, Toys R Us started stocking the official line of WWF figures, including the to-scale wrestling ring. This is where my obsessive collecting streak started – I had to have it all, anything I could find with that official silver and gold logo.

I wasn’t waiting for UK shops to catch on to the WWF buzz either. By this time, I had already joined the WWF Fan Club in America and was ordering merchandise directly from them. T-shirts, posters,  videos, whatever. And that’s where I first came into contact with The Wrestling Album.

The thought of a record performed by the superstars of the WWF was too much to bear, so I saved up and sent off for it alongside a bunch of other stuff. And this was in the pre-internet days when ordering anything from the USA would take at least six weeks to arrive. I still remember my Dad arriving home from work with a box the size of a child’s coffin, full of official WWF merch.

One thing was wrong though. The album I’d ordered as a record had turned up in a different format. It was still packaged in the 12” LP cover, but instead of a shiny black disc inside it had a white plastic cassette tape stuck to the front. I remember being disappointed about this, but what the hell (my 38 year old self secretly rues this switcheroo as I’d now kill for an original pressing).

As an album, it’s pretty forgetful except for the inclusion of Rick Derringer’s Real American, which from this point forward would become Hulk Hogan’s theme tune (his cartoon show theme tune by the WWF All-Stars is also included on the record). Rick Derringer deserves a lot of credit, not only for Real American – a bloody brilliant song – but for producing much of the record, and making it sound reasonably good. I’d hate to think what it would have sounded like, without his input.

The rest of the record is an embarrassing karaoke sing-through of covers and originals by wrestlers from the WWF rosta at the time of recording. My eleven-year old self didn’t bother listening to the album too much, preferring instead to listen to the free tapes that would be sent to me as a member of the fan club. These tapes featured the entrance music to the current members of the WWF at the time and were far more interesting – the futuristic synth drone of Jake ‘The Snake’ Roberts, the guttural growl of The Legion Of Doom, the Communication Breakdown borrowing theme of the Ultimate Warrior.

RITA#588aI wasn’t aware that there was a second edition of The Wrestling Album – subtitled Piledriver – until it was released retrospectively in this RSD edition. That record leans more towards the entrance music for the wrestlers, with Koko B. Ware, Honky Tonk Man, Slick and the tag-team of Demolition all contributing music that would accompany them to the ring in the years following. Again, Rick Derringer is in the producer’s chair, and again this gives the record an air of legitimacy that would otherwise be lacking.

Hit: Real American – Rick Derringer

Hidden Gem: Demolition – Rick Derringer with Ax & Smash

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Rocks In The Attic #504: Rage Against The Machine – ‘Rage Against The Machine’ (1992)

RITA#504I’m fourteen again!

When I started listening to rock music in the early ‘90s, this was essential listening. There was this, the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Blood Sugar Sex Magik and Metallica’s self-titled ‘Black’ album. All three were incredibly relevant to a teenage rock fan.

In retrospect, it’s really only Rage Against The Machine who were cutting-edge. Both Metallica and the Chili Peppers had taken five albums to get to that position; RATM had done it in one, a sterling debut.

Mixing rock and rap wasn’t anything new. The Beastie Boys and Run D.M.C. had been doing it for five or six years by this point, but that was rap sampling (or in some cases, playing) rock. This was the other way around – a heavy rock band, with rap-inflected lyrics, courtesy of Zack de la Rocha.

It wasn’t cutting-edge for long though. A year later in 1993, the turgid soundtrack to the turgid film Judgement Night featured collaborations between rock / metal bands and rap acts. Then the floodgates opened, and a thousand imitators came along. The worst, although regrettably the most successful, was Limp Bizkit – a band ultimately so terrible that I walked out on my weekly DJing residency in the early 2000s because the landlord of the bar asked me to start playing more Limp Bizkit.

The imitators might have got the mixture of rap over rock right, but they avoided the political stance of Rage Against The Machine, and most importantly they didn’t have the same groove. One hit-wonders Crazy Town (no, me neither) even lifted a sample from the Chili Peppers’ Pretty Little Ditty for their song Butterfly, such was their inability to come up with their own groove.

Killing In The Name seemed like a rebellious song to listen to back when it came out, purely for the outrageous lyrics in the latter half of the song. When it would come on in a club, everybody would pile onto the dancefloor, purely for the thrill of being able to jump around shouting “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!” at each other. I’m sure de la Rocha intended the song to be a missive against the establishment, but he ultimately created a song for difficult teenagers to use as internal ammunition against their parents.

There’s a reasonably successful (in local terms) Manchester band called Nine Black Alps, featuring an old acquaintance of mine. Signed to Island in the mid-200s, I caught them in the New Band tent at Glastonbury in the same year, and I really like their debut record Everything Is. But in the last ten years or so I haven’t been able to listen to Rage Against The Machine’s Killing In The Name without thinking of that ‘too cool for school’ acquaintance from Nine Black Alps. The word on the street is that prior to joining that band, he was on some performing arts course in Oldham where he had to do a public performance of the song as part of his final exam. To an audience of teachers, students and examiners they went with the more family friendly lyric “Flip you I won’t do what you tell me!”

Hit: Killing In The Name

Hidden Gem: Wake Up

Rocks In The Attic #415: The Commodores – ‘Machine Gun’ (1974)

RITA#415It’s a shame the Commodores are in black and white on the cover of this. I suspect they’re wearing the same colour skivvies as the Wiggles. Wake up Lionel!

Machine Gun has to be one of my favourite R&B songs – second only to Pick Up The Pieces by the Average White Band. This is the sort of music I was turning to just after I left my DJing gig in the early 2000s. I walked out on that gig after the bar manager asked me to play more Limp Bizkit – I think history deems me the righteous winner in that exchange.

I prefer an alternate timeline, one where Lionel Ritchie doesn’t go solo, one where he stays in the Commodores and they churn out dirty R&B stompers like Brick House and Machine Gun year after year after year. How fabulous. And no Hello or Dancing On The Ceiling

Hit: Machine Gun

Hidden Gem: The Assembly Line