20. Mike Stax, “Coming Soon to a Cemetery Near You . . . The Return of the Misfits,” Ugly Things, no. 14 (Fall 1995): 44–45.
21. William F. Powers, “Signs of Intelligent Life—Cult Favorite Gains a Following among the Masses,” Washington Post, September 17, 1995.
22. “Wes Craven: Directing and Writing Career,” Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wes_Craven#Directing_and_writing_career.
23. Albert Kim, “Pulp Nonfiction,” Entertainment Weekly, July 8, 1994, http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,302832,00.html; Janice E. Shuetz and Lin S. Lilley, The O. J. Simpson Trials: Rhetoric, Media, and the Law (Carbondale; Southern Illinois University Press, 1999).
24. Graves, telephone interview.
25. Richard Abowitz, “The Misfits—American Psycho,” Rolling Stone, May 15, 1997, 115.
26. Stephen Thompson, “American Psycho,” review, The Onion A.V. Club, http://www.avclub.com/articles/misfits-american-psycho,21093.
27. David Grad, “Misfits, American Psycho,” review, Entertainment Weekly, May 16, 1997, http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,287893,00.html.
28. The Misfits, American Psycho, Geffen Records, 1997, compact disc.
29. Graves, telephone interview.
30. Bunch, telephone interview.
31. Preslar, e-mail interview.
32. Bunch, telephone interview.
33. “Discography of Official Misfits Releases,” MisfitsCentral.com, http://www.misfitscentral.com/misfits/discog.php.
34. Bunch, telephone interview.
35. Graves, telephone interview; Bunch, telephone interview.
36. Jerry Only, “Untitled Press Release,” Misfits Central, May 27, 1998, http://misfitscentral.com/display.php? t=marticle&f=mfc_sing.98.
37. “Myke Hideous Interview,” TVCasualty.com, http://tvcasualty.com/articles/a_mykeh.html.
38. Moe Wyoming, “Myke Hideous,” MK Magazine, November 1, 2003, http://www.mk-magazine.com/interviews/archives/000118.php.
39. Graves, telephone interview.
Hate Breeders
8
He who has the bigger stick has the better chance of imposing his definitions of reality.―Peter Berger[1]
On October 5, 1999, the Misfits released their second post-Danzig album, Famous Monsters, via heavy metal boutique label Roadrunner Records. Geffen’s lackluster promotional push for American Psycho soured the band on the experience of being a minor fish in a major label pond.[2] Roadrunner, a smaller operation dedicated to such cult bands as Life of Agony, Machine Head, and Type O Negative, seemed a better fit. The record begins, as American Psycho does, with an instrumental meant to inspire dread; “Kong at the Gates” mimics as best it can the reveal of cinema’s most storied giant with thumping drums, a seesawing guitar riff, and corresponding sound effects (read: monkey snorts). After a requisite pause for suspense, the album immediately offers a second song rooted in Hollywood simians—the driving “Forbidden Zone,” which outlines the contentious area at the center of Charlton Heston’s journey in 1968’s Planet of the Apes. (“Back on Earth, it’s all you read about,” Michale Graves complains. “All the evidence destroyed!”)
Though shameless in its quest to present songs based on famous horror movies, Famous Monsters boasts a thicker, more satisfying roar than its predecessor, a meaty snarl of more originality than the soundscape of American Psycho. Famous Monsters is also less concerned with its identity as a punk album, allowing its compositions to exist in a fun heavy metal framework more readily than any other Misfits release. Pinched harmonics accent the crushing riff in “Lost in Space” (which doesn’t lose its menace even when sampling the robot’s famous cry of “Danger, Will Robinson!”). Furious palm muting drives the verses of “Pumpkin Head,” eventually giving way to one of the album’s more engaging melodic refrains. “Helena,” the Misfits’ ode to the 1993 surgical farce Boxing Helena, kicks off with a bouncy pop punk verse before a slab of fierce power metal stomps it out (proving that Kryst the Conqueror was never entirely dead).
The vestiges of the band’s Reagan-era glory years pop up occasionally—see “The Crawling Eye” or “Witch Hunt,” two songs that slam forward on little more than a few menacing barre chords, Dr. Chud’s throbbing drums, and Michale Graves’s melodic delirium. The Misfits play it a little straighter in the heart-pounding quasi-ballad “Saturday Night,” which sounds ported from the same Elvisy dimension as Static Age.[3] One could also imagine the classic era of this band performing the giant ant creeper “Them,” which strikes the best balance on the album between goofy chills, driving melodies, and memorable lyrics.[4]
Coinciding with the release of their second reunion album was the music video for its first single, “Scream,” an auspicious union between the Misfits and pioneering horror movie director George A. Romero. The bespectacled Night of the Living Dead helmsman was gearing up to direct his first feature in six years, the odd thriller Bruiser, and happily accepted work on the “Scream” video on the condition the Misfits appear in his latest cinematic exercise (the band naturally agreed). The four-minute, mostly black-and-white video centralizes its visuals around a small hospital overrun by wounded Misfits fans and undead versions of band members themselves (the zombie makeup effects are enormously impressive for what appears to be an otherwise limited production budget-wise).[5] Doyle, Graves, Chud, and Jerry crash through medical equipment, soak themselves in the blood of unwitting doctors, and chase a few pretty nurses around the dimly lit halls of this treatment ward. Overall, the “Scream” video is a fun and appropriate tribute to the original 1968 zombie attack that made Romero a household name in those homes obsessed with all things cult. In addition to filming their cameo for Bruiser, which was released the following year, the Misfits penned the film’s heartaching title track with one of the best lyrical couplets Graves ever wound together (“If looks could kill, then death would be my name,” the singer laments in its tender refrain).[6]
Famous Monsters’ very existence coupled with the fact that it appeared to be forging a new sonic place helped the reunited Misfits overcome the stigma of being another post–Green Day cash-in nostalgia machine. Criticism did not escape the band, though. Accusations of the Misfits being the Kiss of punk dogged the band even back in the Danzig days, but the relentless merchandising that accompanied the reunion made comparisons between Lodi’s horror punks and the cottage industry classic rockers more apropos than ever. The Crimson Ghost logo was being plastered on everything, from T-shirts to wallets to shoelaces and lunch boxes. Toy shelves soon found themselves invaded by fully articulated twelve inch Misfits action figures packaged in cardboard coffins with tiny guitar accessories. Jerry Only discussed the marketing with MTV in 1999, saying the Misfits “want to be able to sell our toys to kids and for [kids] to be able to buy our record”; the bassist then pointed out that the word “raped” in Famous Monsters’ “Helena” was altered to “draped” to help the album avoid a parental advisory sticker.[7]
The most dubious of all Misfits cross-promotions didn’t arrive until November of 1999, though, when the group began a working relationship with Ted Turner’s World Championship Wrestling organization. They partnered with Halloween-themed wrestler Vampiro, and the punk band once steeped in so much mystery and confusion was now taking elbows for a basic cable audience of millions a couple of nights a week. Not all band members were enthused by this partnership. Michale Graves in particular, who admits he appreciated the resources the WCW was willing to lay at the band’s feet, knew he wasn’t a wrestler and was not keen on “getting punched in the face by Buff Bagwell.” Jerry Only, on the other hand, embraced the venture, so enamored with this new development that he had a wrestling ring installed in his father’s machine shop in Vernon so he could practice during his off time.
The Misfits partnered with WCW in the middle of the much-ballyhooed “Monday Night Wars,” when the organization’s Monday Nitro television program would go head-to-head against rival wrestling company WWF’s Monday Night Raw in a fierce b
attle for several hours’ worth of basic cable Nielsen ratings. “Macho Man” Randy Savage, the gravel-voiced WWF Superstar who reigned in the 1980s as a wildly gesticulating cowboy perpetually bedecked in neon fringe, defected to the WCW in the mid-1990s,[8] reinventing himself as a black-clad heel complete with buxom five-foot blonde wrapped in skin-tight leather. The woman in question was Gorgeous George, a.k.a. Stephanie Bellars, Savage’s real-life girlfriend. The pair met in 1997 at a strip club where Bellars was a performer.[9] They began dating, and Savage eventually used his clout to bring Stephanie into the WCW fold as his valet. The bloom was off the rose by late 1999, though; Bellars had grown increasingly fed up with Savage’s bizarre demands (the final straw allegedly came when he suggested a menage a trois with her seventeen-year-old sister) and began looking for a new paramour. She quickly found one in Doyle once the Misfits began regularly appearing aside Vampiro. Quiet, even-keeled, and classically handsome out of his corpse makeup, Doyle was almost the mirror opposite of Randy Savage—save the similar brick shit-house physique. The guitarist was equally enamored of the flashy Bellars and their love blossomed despite the fact that Doyle already had a wife.
Randy Savage, a man known outside the ring for carrying a temper as hair-trigger as that of his beloved beef jerky-chomping character, was equal parts heartbroken and enraged when it became apparent Stephanie was shunning him for Doyle. The breaking point arrived one evening that December when Bellars stood her former lover up after the wrestling legend secured box seats at an NFL game in an attempt to woo her back. In an angry tailspin, the Macho Man made some calls, discovered where the Misfits were performing in that night—the House of Blues in New Orleans—and immediately chartered a jet so he could finally confront and/or mortally wound Doyle. Being one of the most famous faces of American pop culture, Savage easily breezed past security upon his arrival and planted himself firmly backstage. The Misfits, in the middle of their headlining performance, were flabbergasted when they noticed the angry Macho Man waiting in the wings, clearly visible as he shotgunned beer after beer. Mere seconds after pounding out the final guitar chord of the night, a very aware Doyle leapt into the crowd and exited through the venue’s front door. Moments later Michale Graves and Gwar’s Matt Maguire found themselves cornered by a frothing Randy Savage. “WHERE’S DOOLIE?” he seethed in that famous voice, violently man-handling a trembling Graves in the process. Graves and Maguire were adamant that they nothing of Doyle’s whereabouts. The pair pleaded with Savage not to brutalize anyone; after a few minutes of tense back and forth, Savage slithered off into the night.[10]
Interestingly enough, Jerry Only steered clear of this brouhaha, which was odd considering the amount of time he allegedly spent egging wrestlers on before and after WCW events. The boisterous Only would openly challenge younger and more experienced industry professionals like Bill Goldberg to unsanctioned matches backstage, embarrassing his band mates. Jerry’s dreams of conquering the squared circle became so overwhelming that for a brief moment the other Misfits considered letting their founding bass player go after his sports entertainment dreams. A series of talks were held weighing the pros and cons of forming a brand new group with Vampiro on bass. That wouldn’t happen, though: Only effectively dashed his wrestling dreams by talking up a union among the WCW stable of talent. The Misfits were released from their wrestling contracts shortly thereafter. This brief, contentious episode as grapplers was but a microcosm of the interpersonal problems that continued to plague the band. Many on the inside could see the end was coming.[11]
In 2000 the Misfits expanded their cinematic résumé and tested their comedic chops in the crime farce Big Money Hustlas. Hustlas was a vehicle for controversial harlequin hip-hop stars the Insane Clown Posse whose murderous rhymes centered around an evil entity known as “The Dark Carnival.” Big Money Hustlas leaned hardest on laughs, casting its madcap (and painfully low budget) caper with a wide range of comedic personalities including Half Baked funnyman Harland Williams, “What’s Happening!!” star Fred “Rerun” Berry, wrestler Mick Foley, porn star Kayla Kleevage, and blaxploitation legend Rudy Ray Moore (reprising his most famous role of feisty pimp Dolemite).[12]
At the helm of Big Money Hustlas was new director John Cafiero, an artist short on professional experience (his only prior credit was camera work on a 1995 episode of A&E’s Biography) who had nevertheless landed the Hustlas job partially because of his work with the Misfits. In 1997 an animated short Cafiero put together with several other artists entitled “Misfits Re-Animated” caught the eye of Jerry Only who deemed the cartoon worthy for use in the American Psycho promotional campaign. The Misfits hired Cafiero shortly thereafter as a creative director for the band; by 2000, John Cafiero was managing the Misfits in place of Ken Caiafa[13] (who, after an unspecified disagreement with brother Jerry, exited rock n’ roll to enter the less stressful field of swimming pool installation[14]) while simultaneously producing and directing their music videos on the strength of “Misfits Re-Animated.” The same animation secured Cafiero the director’s chair for Big Money Hustlas,[15] and Insane Clown Posse’s label Island Records gave him a budget of $250,000 to complete the direct-to-video feature based around their rapping clown duo. Those monies evaporated a month into shooting, and, even worse, Cafiero’s crew, irritated by the cast and film’s subject matter, went on strike several times. Violent J, the more heavyset of the two Insane Clowns, had to step in at the eleventh hour with $100,000 from his own pocket to make sure Big Money Hustlas was completed.[16]
Hustlas wrapped without further incident, though Cafiero’s issues with the self-proclaimed “Wicked Clowns” ensured he wouldn’t be asked back for the inevitable sequel (2010’s western-themed Big Money Rustlas). During their scene, the Misfits are seen attempting to enjoy a leisurely snack at a late night eatery while Harland Williams’s clueless cop character (the cleverly named Officer Harry Cox) disturbs the peace by playing with his food, pretending to be a “donut cyclops.” Annoyed, Doyle wings a pastry down the counter that hits Williams square in the temple. Williams is shamed as the Misfits crack up, but only momentarily—once the outfit’s laughter dies down the cop puts his foodstuff back up to his left eye like a monocle and carries on as “a donut gentleman from London.”[17]
It should come as no shock that Big Money Hustlas was not nominated for any Academy Awards the year of its release. Insane Clown Posse’s virgin motion picture outing did debut at number one on the Billboard Home Video chart,[18] though, proving that two rapping carnival obsessives can succeed in this country on the strength of a 1970s action adventure farce featuring Rudy Ray Moore, the Misfits, Rerun from What’s Happening, and one or two porn stars.
The curtain began to lower on the resurrected Misfits in late September of 2000 when the group was preparing for a tour through Canada. As their cramped Winnebago reached the border it was discovered that Michale Graves lacked the proper permits to gain entry to the Great White North (a misdemeanor assault conviction stemming from a 1996 concert fracas in which Graves attacked a venue’s sound man complicated his international travel issues). Graves thought the band’s management had taken care of his permit problems and vice versa. Tensions rose, and a vote was held right then and there on whether to replace Graves for the duration of the Canada tour with Misfits pal and Ignite singer Zoli Téglás. The decision was unanimous: hire Zoli.[19] After eight gigs with Jerry Only handling vocal duties, Téglás joined the band in Thunder Bay, Ontario, to sing on the seven remaining dates.
Graves returned to the fold on October 21 when the band came back to the States for an East Coast tour leg.[20] The anger was still there, though—not only over the passports but the general band dynamic. Michale Graves reached his breaking point. “I was so mentally beat down by everything,” remembers Graves. “There was such a bad vibe. I was writing the majority of the music, giving much more material and vision to the project, as were Doyle and Chud . . . [and] I was never respected [for it]. Toward the end, Jerry wanted to
play the old songs more than the new ones. I couldn’t understand that direction. He’d also say I sang ‘too bluesy.’ What the hell? I was ready to hang myself. It was like a never-ending episode of Real Housewives.”
Exhausted, Michale told the band that he needed some time off. Halloween would be his last performance with the Misfits for the foreseeable future. If they wished to move on without him, he understood. Graves would in fact only make it to October 25; that night, the Misfits played at the House of Blues in the bucolic Disney-laden suburb of Lake Buena Vista, Florida. At some point during the show, an increasingly exasperated Graves announced this would be his last show with the band. What happened next is still debated fiercely by all who were in attendance. Doyle stormed offstage immediately following Graves’s words, either because he was experiencing technical difficulties with his guitar or because he was upset with the singer. Graves and Chud quickly followed the hulking axe man into the stage wings, leaving a befuddled Jerry Only onstage alone to perform “We Are 138” alone. Backstage, Graves says he began pleading with an apparently unresponsive Doyle regarding the future of the Misfits, begging the former Paul Caiafa to stand up to his domineering brother. Graves felt Doyle had sway not only because of blood relation but because the guitarist owned a larger legal stake of the band than he did. Still, Doyle could not be moved.[21]
Eventually Only came off-stage to confront Graves. The aggravated and sweat-drenched bassist blew up at his younger counterpart and informed him the Misfits had recently been communicating with Glenn Danzig about a “real” reunion because “this new stuff isn’t selling.” As the situation grew uglier and various band technicians and roadies became involved (many of whom had grown weary of Jerry Only’s tight pocketbook strings), House of Blues security escorted Michale Graves out of the venue. In a show of solidarity, Dr. Chud quit the band effective immediately and joined Graves in the parking lot. Before long the two youngest Misfits found themselves stranded at their hotel with no money or jobs as the Caiafa brothers forged ahead to the next show in Fort Lauderdale, with a Misfits that was only fifty percent intact. Refusing to swallow his pride, Jerry Only anointed himself the new Misfits vocalist, unequivocally letting the world know he was in charge (though Zoli Téglás would be invited back for one or two of the remaining 2000 tour legs).
This Music Leaves Stains: The Complete Story of the Misfits Page 17
