| April.09 Cover - The Coathangers |
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| Written by David T. Lindsay | |
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Page 1 of 4  Mixed Up, Muddled Up, Shook Up WorldThe Coathangers Blow the Backside Outta David T. Lindsay’s Evaporated Hairline Once upon a dare I was the constant observer on the local scene. I was at that Beatles show here in ’65. I saw an exhausted Hendrix get blown off course by Ted Nugent. I’ve interviewed Yoko and The Ramones and Dorothy Wiggins’ cousin, who turned out to be as weird as her relatives in The Shaggs. I spoke with the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Hung up on Nico, and I ignored Lou Reed on a public street. Kurt Cobain walked out. Tony Bennett tried to get me fired. Kristian Bush wrote songs about me. I had dinner with Devo. I received hate mail from every local whatsit band between 1982 and ’95. But I walked away when I could no longer find, as Robert Christgau put it, “that first-rate whoop of nonsense.” Rock ‘n’ roll started to give me phantom pain. Quite by chance I heard aspersions being cast toward a local band who had a song titled “Nestle In My Boobies”! Gee, I had a good laugh at what they were in for, having to play that one night after night to a crowd of frat-filth. Scary-oke. Well, the band got a buzz as a novelty act. But an odd thing occurred – they played so often, they learned to play and got comfortable with each other and built a band on a solid foundation of catchy, memorable, funny songs. There hasn’t been a single indelible band that’s been able to bring me out into the chill of the streets, to the abyss where I’d be willing to risk death by showing up at a local club in noxious fumes on a rainy Wednesday at the end of February until 2 a.m., except for The Coathangers. With background filled in, I kept to the shadows while The Coathangers faced broad daylight, being given the opportunity to make that first record for Rob’s House, which the band fully admits caught them at a time when they had no idea how to fully incorporate their different musical backgrounds. “We are so glad we got to record for a local Atlanta label. We’ve no regrets,” states the band united. Catty chatter by pear-shaped pugsters caused me to approach with trepidation, so it took a while for me to warm up to that record as their deal with Rob’s House ran its course. Largely on the strength of Julia Kugel’s yodelicious delivery that simultaneously sounds as if it could start brushfires and melt your heart, I came around. Kugel is word wanton with her mix-n-match wit, just the right balance of fuck you and radio friendly. She detonates whatever she sings with a voice-thrusting intensity, even if she was reciting the ingredients of Subway’s seven subs. Tur-er-er-key-ye-ye! Their song “Parking Lot” blew blood out the backside of my evaporated hairline. I may be age-addled but I can still get shook outta shape. Surprisingly that song was among the first they’d written, and it got airplay on 99X! I’d go a step further to anoint it as one of the ten best songs ever to come out of Atlanta, right up their with “Dark vs. Light” by Heathen Girls. Like a beacon on a dark road, “Parking Lot” was my signal out of the wilderness. Having only seen them play at Stomp and Stammer Editor Jeff Clark’s Halloween party in 2008, I sat down with the band to discuss their second CD, Scramble, scheduled for release early this month on their new label, Suicide Squeeze. |
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