by Mike McCarty
Gothik Gustave: Everybody thinks I’ve got this incredible tongue–it doesn’t even compare to The Lady In Black’s.
Critter: We went back to her pad, two floors up from a Mexican restaurant. The Lady In Black took G.G. into the bathroom and did the deed. I thought it was kind of funny she didn’t want to use the bedroom, but I didn’t want to pry into this gal’s personal life. After they were done, we decided to jam on “Starman Manstar” again, with The Lady In Black on bass. G.G.’s vocals were so incredible, my balls swelled.
The Lady In Black: The guys didn’t know that my boyfriend Metalhead was sleeping in the next room. Metalhead was okay with my life as a crackwhore. To him, that was an acceptable career. I once talked about going to secretarial school and that sent him into a rage.
Usually he can sleep through anything–but “Starman Manstar” woke him up.
Metalhead: It sounded cool. I was still a little sleepy when I walked in on them. I was wearing only boxer shorts, so I think it freaked the two guys out.
Critter: We stopped playing. I mean, when you see a guy coming toward you who’s nearly seven feet tall–with a metal mask, wearing only boxers with his pecker hanging out...What can I say? It was distracting.
Gothik Gustave: I thought he was going to kill us. But instead, he stumbled back into his room, dragged out some drums and said, “Back to the top! One, two, three–”
Critter: I’ve played with a lot of drummers in my life, but I never heard anyone pound the living shit out of the skins like that before. I felt the vibrations all the way through my spine. We had to let him in the band. He could have ripped off our limbs as easily as a snotty-nosed kid tearing the legs off a grasshopper.
The Lady In Black: I was so happy to be part of the band, I let the guys drink some of my guuku juice. It’s bright orange–kind of pretty. The main ingredients come from dead jellyfish, rotten skins from certain rare toads, and some stuff squeezed out of the carcasses of jumbo tree spiders.
Most alcohol is made from fermented plant juices, right? Well, this stuff’s made from the decayed tissues and glands of venomous creatures. It’s some strong toxic shit–it’ll give you some amazing visions. It has to be mixed with a whole lot of pineapple juice, so that it tastes good and doesn’t kill ya. I bought it from a crazy old lady who lived three blocks away. She came from the island of Pokaluhu–that’s also where Metalhead’s grandma was born. Folks there drink guuku juice like us Americans drink pop. They can’t get enough of it.
FAQ:
Q: Where did you get the name Meat Wagon?
Metalhead: We eventually met Fever Dawg, and he fell in love with our music and became our manager. He even moved us into the space above his family’s funeral home. He lived right there with us. He even hauled our equipment in his hearse.
Fever Dawg: A midnight-blue 1973 Cadillac hearse.
Metalhead: We gave the hearse the nickname “Meat Wagon.” Whenever any of us had to drive around on errands, we’d say, “Time to ride the Meat Wagon!” The band’s original name was Black Death Sex Machine, but eventually we decided that Meat Wagon would play better in the Midwest. People in the Midwest eat a lot of pork and beef.
Q: How did you get signed to Badbone Productions?
Critter: We were playing out on the road for about a year, going from one shithole bar to the next. We sold tapes out of the back of the hearse and by mail order. The money barely covered our gas and groceries. Then this teenage kid from England sent a fan letter to our P.O. box, saying an American friend had given him one of our tapes, and he wanted us to play his fourteenth birthday party. The kid was Elliott Buckingham and his father was Sir Walter Buckingham, a famous producer and owner of Badbone Productions.
The brat’s dad paid for a plane ticket and set us up in the sixteenth-century castle where he lived. We joined Badbone Productions the very next day–because Elliott was turning blue, holding his breath until his dad signed us.
David Silverstein: Sir Walter put me on the case with Meat Wagon right after he signed them. He said, “This band–they’re going to be nothing but trouble. Keep an eye on them.” He didn’t mind trouble, though–not really. Trouble can mean big money sometimes. People want their rock stars to be bad-asses. The hornier and crazier, the better. And there was nobody hornier or crazier than the Meat Wagon gang.
Q: What is your favorite Meat Wagon song?
Gothik Gustave: “Zombie Insomniacs.”
Critter: “Bay At The Moon.”
The Lady In Black: “Orange Demon In My Brain.”
Metalhead: “Rattle Them Bones.”
Fever Dawg: “Underground Dwellings.”
Sir Walter Buckingham: (He was napping at this point in the interview.)
Derek Silverstein: I lost my virginity while listening to “Basketcase” so I would have to say, that one.
Dan Swamp: “Zombie Insomniacs” had a great sense of raw power. The lyrics–well, they combined some pretty standard goth and heavy-metal themes, and the rhyme was a little off, but still, there was something more...A sense of conviction, I think. I would be listening to that one, and I’d say to myself, “I bet they believe all that.” Sometimes I even found myself believing.
SAMPLE LYRICS:
“Zombie Insomniacs” (lyrics by The Lady In Black and Gothik Gustave):
Sleep no more! You’d better stay up.
Squealing demons dig their way up–right into your plastic-covered tacky living room.
No escape, they will defeat you,
scratch and claw and bite and eat you–sink into the lava as the Devil seals your doom!
(Chorus)
From their graves the corpses creep–Hell’s so loud, they just can’t sleep.
Earth shall not recover from the deadly attacks
of those ass-stinking, guuku-drinking
Zombie Insomniacs!
Daddy never loved me. Mommy was a whore.
Granny took her teeth out to give blowjobs door-to-door.
Life’s a rusty bucket filled with feces and lies!
All you ever think about is murder and sin.
Death is coming for you with a shit-eating grin.
Your corpse will make a midnight snack for maggots and flies!
(Repeat Chorus)
The Lady In Black: There were two versions of “Zombie Insomniacs.” In the radio version, “ass-stinking” was replaced with “orange-eyed” and “feces” became “cobwebs”. “Whore” went to “bore”, “blowjobs” became “kisses” and “shit-eating” turned into “maniac”.
Gothik Gustave was pissed off, but I didn’t mind. I mean, little kids listen to the radio. Kids should stay innocent as long as possible. Time and disappointment will harden them up eventually.
THE HISTORY OF MEAT WAGON IN ONE-HUNDRED WORDS OR LESS:
Dan Swamp: I’m suppose to sum up the entire history of Meat Wagon in one-hundred words? Or less? It took me over six-hundred pages in my official history of the band, entitled Guuku Juice On Their Lips: The Complete History Of Meat Wagon. Well, here goes:
The heavy-metal/industrial-hardcore/glam-goth group Meat Wagon was composed of the four most dysfunctional creatures that ever walked upright–Critter, Metalhead, Gothik Gustave and The Lady In Black. They scored twenty hit singles, with seven reaching No. 1. They recorded fifteen platinum CDs, eighteen gold, and “Rattle Them Bones” stayed on the charts for a record forty-two weeks. They starred in the horror movie, Dawn of the Zombie Insomniacs, and were featured in the guuku juice documentary, Swim the Orange River.
They were gods–or devils. In rock, there’s not much difference between the two.
MEAT WAGON ON THE SILVER SCREEN:
Metalhead: My grandmother Vupoggi was from the tropical island of Pokaluhu. Life is pretty different there. They have hotels, tour
ist attractions and all that, and yet cannibalism is legal. Most of the native people worship an octopus god called Kugappa. We filmed most of Dawn of the Zombie Insomniacs on Pokaluhu, and that was fun–it was like a paid vacation, working on a beautiful island.
A lot of folks have commented on how realistic the zombie attack scenes look. You’d think those zombies were really tearing into their victims, ripping them up and eating them. Great special effects? Well, let me put it this way. The extras who played the zombies were all natives of Pokaluhu. And the folks playing the victims–well, there was no need to pay any of them after shooting was done.
Gothik Gustave: Yeah, a pile of bones can’t cash a check!
Derek Silverstein: Dawn of the Zombie Insomniacs was a publicity nightmare. Once people found out they were watching actual scenes of cannibalism–the church groups all went nuts. And ticket sales went through the roof. Album sales, too. In America, the number of cannibalism-related crimes went up about three-hundred percent. In Europe, they went up seven-hundred percent, which I thought was pretty interesting. The beef in Europe isn’t very good–it’s so stringy. Maybe that movie gave some people ideas.
Critter: The natives all thought I was some kind of sacred guy because of my eyes. They called me ‘He Who Opens The Way’–that was pretty cool. They even held a luau in my honor. They wanted to wrap G.G. in palm leaves and cook him up, but I talked them out of it.
The Lady In Black: Over the years, I’ve tried pretty much every chemical associated with expanding the boundaries of the human mind, and that trip to Pokaluhu really got me thinking. That whole ‘opening the way’ concept seemed so intriguing. I talked with some of the holy women on the island, and they explained that ‘the way’ was in fact the threshold between this dimension and that of the gods. Their top deity was Kugappa, and they said that while he can manifest a physical body on this plane, his actual soul resides somewhere out there. Wouldn’t it be fantastic to visit the dimension of the gods? Wouldn’t that be the ultimate trip?
Guuku juice is legendary for having the ability to expand one’s perceptions. I did some more research on the stuff, since I wanted to see if it could be used as part of that whole ‘opening the way’ concept. I mean, I actually know ‘He Who Opens The Way’–though we call him Critter, ha!–so I figured, maybe we could get that way opened up somehow. Eventually I got involved in that documentary, Swim the Orange River. All of us appeared in that–we played victims of the Inquisition in some dramatic reenactments. I guess Torquemada drank an obscure European version of guuku juice all the time. Even after the documentary was finished, we all stayed in touch with the folks who produced it–the Order of the Orange Dawn. A lot of rich, influential folks are involved with that order. Guuku juice is pretty powerful stuff–in more ways than one.
MORE SAMPLE LYRICS:
“Orange Demon in My Brain” (lyrics by The Lady In Black and Critter):
Secrets inked on ancient vellum–terror in my cerebellum
If you see the Devil, tell ‘em
something has escaped from Hell
and lives inside my head!
Somehow it has cast a spell
to make my brain undead!
(Chorus)
Orange demon in my brain–he calls to me!
Orange demon shall remain–he crawls to me!
All I do is think about him.
I could never live without him!
Now I have brain of madness–never more shall I know sadness–evil fills my soul with gladness!
Fantasies of orange fire
make the world seem dead and dull!
Wicked visions of desire lurk within my haunted skull!
(Repeat Chorus)
THE JONESTOWN ANNIVERSARY CONCERT:
Fever Dawg: After twenty years of fame and fortune, wealth and glory, heavy MTV rotation and enough sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll to kill twelve teen garage bands, Meat Wagon decided to leave this dimension and try another.
For their twentieth anniversary, the group wanted to hold an outdoor concert at Jonestown in the country of Guyana in South America, the place where over nine-hundred people committed suicide by drinking poisoned Kool-Aid. This time, Meat Wagon wanted everyone to drink guuku juice. Not only would it open the audience’s senses to new perceptions, but it would also open the gateway to another dimension.
Sir Walter Buckingham: Guuku juice? I have a little swig out of my flask every now and then. The Lady In Black hooked me on the stuff. I think it’s the only thing keeping me alive. At my age, it makes me so sleepy. But I have some really fabulous dreams. Lovely...(So saying, Sir Walter fell asleep.)
Derek Silverstein: I told the gang, “What are you thinking? This gig will never fly! It’s too bizarre! Too scary!” But they wouldn’t listen. At that point, they were hanging out a lot with cult members from the Order of the Orange Dawn. I never knew who any of the cultists were, since they all wore hats with veils–even the men. Fedoras with orange lace hanging over the face. What’s up with that? Metalhead even painted his masks orange, and The Lady In Black started wearing orange accessories.
Dan Swamp: The Order of the Orange Dawn helped to supply them with enough guuku juice for the event. I went to that concert, as did every rock journalist in the world. Folks wanted to know: What the Hell is this? Why hold a concert in Guyana? People were expecting a weird-ass scene, and in that regard, nobody was disappointed.
Fever Dawg: I guess they held it in Guyana because, as The Lady In Black told me, the place still had a lot of psychic energy hovering around. Some places have more energy than others, and I guess that place was a regular powerhouse. Who knows, maybe that used to be the site of an ancient temple or something. The universe is full of crazy shit, and we don’t know the half of it. We don’t know a tenth, not even a hundredth of it.
Derek Silverstein: I quit the day before the Guyana concert. I mean, they weren’t listening to me, and I didn’t want to be the one to talk to the press if the whole gig went straight to Hell. These days I work for a boy band out of Rio de Janeiro.
Dan Swamp: It was amazing. The crowd was absolutely humungous. There were dozens of refreshment stands, staffed by members of the Order of the Orange Dawn. They had guuku juice straight-up, guuku juice slushies, various guuku-based cocktails–I ordered the slushy, and really, it was pretty good. Especially since it was such a scorcher of a day. I tried not to think of all that dead crap guuku juice is actually made of.
The band came out amidst thunderous applause and immediately launched into “Starman Manstar.” From there they went to “Zombie Insomniacs” and “Rattle Them Bones.” I remember thinking: we’re all drinking this freaky guuku juice, so maybe they should call it rot ‘n’ roll. Yeah. The heart of rot ‘n’ roll is still beating. It’s only rot ‘n’ roll, but I like it.
Then they played “Orange Demon In My Brain” and a lot of folks in the audience joined in–but they weren’t singing the song. They were singing something very rhythmic, very fierce–I couldn’t make out the words, but as I listened, I realized that they were actually chanting in a sing-song sort of way, and the name “Kugappa” was repeated regularly.
By that time, I was sucking down my fourth slushy, and the combination of the guuku juice, the music, the heat, the chanting–I could feel it all taking hold of me. Then Critter suddenly began to gesture toward the skies. He moved his arms round and round above his head, like he was stirring something. And he was.
Stirring up trouble.
The air above the stage began to ripple like water–concentric, shining circles, pulsing outward, over and over. I wasn’t the only one to see it. Hundreds of others were pointing up into the sky. Suddenly the circles began to change, turning bluish-pink, then pinkish-red, then finally bright orange.
Next came the tentacles.
They were everywhere, pouri
ng down from out of the ripples, grabbing at audience members and pulling them up into the sky, where they’d disappear from sight. Then a fresh batch of tentacles would come swooping down, grabbing for more. People weren’t screaming or anything–they simply continued chanting, spellbound. Soon I found myself chanting. Still, I was lucky–the tentacles didn’t get me. But they did get the band.
I think that’s what the Meat Wagon gang wanted, because they kept singing as they were being carried up, up and away. And the minute the music stopped, the tentacles and the ripples in the sky all faded away. Folks stopped chanting and looked around, completely dazed. They slowly began to realize what had just happened.
That’s when the screaming started.
Sir Walter Buckingham: (Waking up) Oh, hello. You’re still here?
I just had the most beautiful dream. The Lady In Black and all the boys were in it. Even the tiny one, Gothik Gary, Augustus, whatever his name was. I was walking on a beach with sand as white as snow. To my right was the sea. I saw the Meat Wagon gang playing in the water. Then they saw me and began to swim toward me. They still had human heads, but the rest of them–! The Lady In Black had a body like a spider, covered with slimy scales. Critter had clusters of tentacles instead of arms, and Metalhead had flippers, tendrils like a jellyfish and a mouthful of horrible teeth. The little one had warty toad-skin and crab pincers, too–and he was laughing, wagging that horrible tongue of his.
“Oh, dear,” I said, “none of you can play your instruments any more.”
They looked at each other, smiled, and then they all turned toward me. They opened their mouths and the most incredible sounds came out. Chattering, chirping, squealing, cheeping, roaring–deep-sea sounds, the sort made by whales and dolphins and other ocean creatures. In rhythm! It was quite compelling. Hypnotic. Beautiful. Certainly no need for any instruments. I could have listened to it for days. But then I woke up.
Now where did I put that flask? Ah, here it is. Time for a little nip.
If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to sleep. I want to see if I can catch the rest of that song.
The Resurrection
