DUBLIN-BASED quintet The High Babies have a
manifesto: to restore dirty white noise to its rightful place on the Irish podium. And true enough, as the band s guitarist Ben Starr (real name Glenn McIntyre) testifies, there hasn t been a decent domestic sleaze-rock n roll band doing the rounds in many a year. Until now, that is.
It s been dead since Lizzy, Glenn (or Ben) proclaims in a thick Kildare accent. They ve all been moaney fuckin Pearl Jam clones. Nobody s been singin about gettin hammered and waking up with weird shit all over their dick since Guns N Roses broke up. You know rock n roll s gone to the dogs when it takes someone as poxy as Mick Hucknell to have the balls to sing something like, I ve been blown all around the world .
We re in the (thankfully deserted) bar in Bloom s Hotel on a Wednesday morning, and Glenn has been waiting 26 years to run his mouth off in the pages of this esteemed organ. As well as the gregarious guitarslinger, I m joined by singer Monica Minsky (real name Sullivan), resplendent in leopard-print coat and shades, and bassist Jonny McGoldrick. Drummer Dan is elsewhere, presumably having a bizarre gardening accident, while keyboardist/vocalist Stella is also AWOL, studying , says Glenn cryptically. Yeah, her fingernails, laughs Monica.
So, not to put too fine a point on it, what s wrong with Irish rock n roll?
It s like 1986 all over again, Glenn complains. Bands like Juniper are just Simple Minds clones. And Junkster? Jaysus.
The Republica of Ireland, Monica drolls.
What about The Ultra Montanes?
The Ultra Mundanes, more like. They couldn t play their way out of a paper bag.
You get the gist. These Babies aren t shy about dissing their contemporaries. But can they walk it like they talk it? Well, actually, yes. The band s debut four-track EP Bring Out The Gimp (produced by veteran LA-based Runaways svengali Kim Fowley) mightn t be the most polished of works, but what it lacks in finesse, it makes up for in attitude. Tracks like Do Gonzoids Dream Of Electric Sheep (featuring Glenn on lead vocals, delivering lines like, Your honour, I m sorry, y see/I was tokin some hash/And havin a slash/When the poor beast backed right into me ) exude a doggedly intoxicating plod reminiscent of the finest NY Dolls, or, at a push, Transvision Vamp. Madonna certainly likes em: the Babies management are currently engaged in serious negotiations with her Maverick label. On this side of the water, Chris Evans crew have reportedly been looking to book the band for an upcoming slot on TFI Friday. And even more impressively, The High Babies are lined up to make a cameo appearance in the new as yet untitled David Lynch movie, which begins shooting in Florida this summer.
So, Glenn, how d you swing that one?
We faxed him asking would he direct the video, he reveals. He didn t have the time, but he liked the CD. About a week later we got the call to go over in June.
But it s not all hobbing and knobbing with The High Babies there s substance too. Indeed, Jonny s all ears when I mention the new Art Of Noise homage to Debussy: the band have recently been working on a cover of an old Cramps tune, re-titled Can Your Debussy Do The Dog? And crucially, here s an outfit with something to say: check out the post-feminist hymn that is Unfulfilled , where Monica caterwauls, It s the textbook definition/Of sexual frustration/When he does me with his three inch dong/Then kisses me with a foot-long-tongue .
So, Monica, is this autobiographical?
Don t ask me, the vocalist drawls, sucking on a Camel. Glenn wrote the words.
Okay Glenn, is this autobiographical?
Fuck off! It s just a bit o crack, like.
Fair enough. But if The High Babies are rock n roll made flesh, what s the story with this corny Keltic fiddle/whistle break right in the middle of the song? Are you muscling in on the Corrs market?
It s all the same spirit, trad and rock n roll, the guitarist protests. I ve been into traditional music for years, since I first saw Kila.
As you might imagine with a band so well-connected, the High Babies glitter-encrusted press release has to be seen to be believed. But amongst all the hyperbole, you ll find the following quote, attributed to one B.E. Ellis: The High Babies are the greatest hydra-headed decaped since The Stones. Forget Marilyn Manson, forget Hole, this is the real deal.
Surely not Mr. American Psycho himself?
Yeah, Glenn shrugs, almost sheepishly. We met him and Irvine Walsh in the Clarence the other week, gave him a CD and asked him for a quote.
Jammy bastards. And what s this strange rumour about the band being funded by EC severance pay?
Who told you that? the guitarist demands.
I never reveal my sources.
Tell me.
Alright then. Stuart Clark.
One of the management partners used to work in Brussels, Monica explains, a tad defensively. He decided to invest in the band. It s just a business deal.
There weren t sexual favours involved?
This question, dear readers, doesn t go down well. Monica mutters something about cocksucking journalists under her breath. Glenn examines his black-varnished fingernails. Jonny goes to the bar. And to make matters worse, one of the band s managers, Conrad, a graduate of the showband school, has picked this moment to rejoin us.
Hard work, that s how the band got here, he informs me. Just like Garth Brooks.
I figure it s time to make my excuses and leave, before I m thrown out.
The High Babies the future of rock n roll or the new Sigue Sigue Sputnik? That s up to you. Just don t mention the Oral Office. n
The Bring Out The Gimp EP is out now on Bitchin Heat Records. The High Babies are styled by Cuba of Dublin.