Standing proud and haughty at the archives of demise, the Dead Boys are the tax collectors for the new wave, joyously exacting the wergild from the ever expanding throngs of punkites ’n’ punkettes lolling at their feet in highly agitated cinematic pools. Proclaiming themselves young, loud snots right from the onset, the Dead Boys have managed to maintain a naughty nihilistic stance tinged with slight tongue in cheek overtones which keep everyone just a tad offguard trying to figure out if they’re really serious about it all or just into self-parody and visual cynicism. We Have Come For Your Children casts these rejects from zombie school into a new and less eerie light, inflicting less power shocks on the listener than the first LP and even sporting a lyric sheet on the inside so’s the boys can get their message across in an ocular as well as oral fashion. Almost tame one might venture to say, then again one might venture to say:
These guys are young: you can see this in their basic political backwardness as blasted forth in Stiv Bators’ never-gonna-be-a-classic, “3rd Generation Nation,” come on Stiv, where were you when Robitussin, Black Sabbath and Bloodrock were proclaiming the inanity of thinking way back in the early moans of the 70s? Kids don’t need to hear about it NOW; jeez, ain’t they living it ’n’ liking it enough?
These guys are loud: you can hear this on “Flame Thrower Lover” which is as obvious a homage to Kiss as you’re ever gonna get. Actually, in terms of sonics the Dead Boys are proficient and for some unknown reason they give off the air that they are capable of a lot more than they actually give out.
These guys are snotty: attitude is THE factor these days and taste ’n’ attitude go hand in hand like two pirates shivering their timbers down in the Village in the BIG city. SO by definition tastelessness is one of the prime elements in the propagation of any kind of new wave and tastelessness done up properly has a power and a glory all its own. And when they get real snotty, the Dead Boys come up with three sure-to-be-classics-for-someone without any taste: “(I Don’t Wanna Be No) Catholic Boy,” “Son Of Sam” and “Ain’t It Fun.” All three songs show the degrees in variations snotology can take. “Catholic Boy” tickles the ha-ha with booger smearing lines like, “I don’t wanna kneel, I don’t wanna feel/Guilty suppression/I wanna beat my meat in the street/Dominus Vobiscum,” while “Son Of Sam” celebrates canine boogerhood with heavyweight production, adding an essential element of contemporary theatrics to Dead Boy music. And “Ain’t It Fun” proves conclusively and I mean conclusively that eatin’ boogers is the next big thing and Alice Cooper was, and always will be, the greatest influence on the musical unconsciousness of the 80s.
We Have Come For Your Children has two answers: one is, you can have ’em. The other is yeah, this LP is okay and it’s fun, not serious, but fun and what the hey, who needs anything else? P.S.--If you really got it bad for the Dead Boys then check out the old issue of Cheri where they do a series of beaver shots with Cheri’s ace rock reporter, Cheri Bomb; this had to be one of the finest statements made by any of the new wave punkothic bands...Give it a nintee five ’cause it makes eatin’ worms mo’ fun--besides, isn’t taking things serious and being a good band against the punk ethic anyway?
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