Run-of-the-mill rawk review ruffles a Hopeless Bonito
You force the music section to referee a steel-cage death match between Elton John and Madonna, and we reward you with a Payback Time T-shirt and two tickets to a Live Nation club show of your choice taking place in Vancouver within the next four weeks. Here’s this week’s winning whinge.
Dear Payback Time: We know from the review of our seven-inch as well as the two other reviews Gregory Adams has done that we cannot take his words to heart. He has the nuts to say that I’ve never done it good and that the Black Halos had mere minutes of fame when we have proof in our archives, as well those of the Georgia Straight, that a few years back he was praising me and the last Black Halos album. In his reviews of two other groups, he praises one for switching from extreme metal to café acoustic and the other for having ska upstrokes and hip-swinging disco beats. We only hope that one day Adams finds something he truly loves instead of looking as romantic as one of the headless women in the escort ads in the back of your newspaper.
> Billy Hopeless Bonito
P.S. Oh, and never put down the Ramones!
Gregory Adams writes: Dearest Billy—Without sounding too much like I’m hiding under the coattails of the Straight ’s editing staff, the “three minutes” crack about the Halos was subbed in instead of a more complimentary comment. But to be honest, thinking back to your Violent Years, I remember covers of “Warsaw” and “Where Eagles Dare” played at the Piccadilly Pub more clearly than I do the chorus to “Some Things Never Fall”. As for last week’s reviews, I gave props to Johnny De Courcy for thinking outside the scope of metal, though I do believe I derided the Starbucks-approved strummer in question; I cautioned the Oh Wells, a group of kids in their late teens/early 20s, against re-releasing the same three songs if they want to make a lasting impression; and I castigated you for delivering a sub-par seven-inch that doesn’t live up to your glory days. If that means I lose punk points with you, so be it, but I’ll still take those other efforts over the run-of-the-mill rawk riffs on The Bonitos. That said, there’s nothing wrong with remaining dedicated to the old school; you just have to do it decently. I never put down the Ramones! Those guys did do it well (except for maybe half of Halfway to Sanity, but I digress). The point made was that it’s weird you’re dropping two pseudonyms on your record sleeve when you could easily, and alliteratively, opt for Billy Bonito. I’ll tell you what, let’s go back to Foo’s Ho Ho like we did four years ago. If you want to play the meal safe, and the fried rice stacks up like it did back then, dinner’s on me. You can even grab that week’s copy of the Straight and entertain yourself between courses by visualizing my dome on top of one of those headless ladies in the classifieds if you want to—but then you’ll have to pay.
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