DUETS FROM HELL!

DUETS FROM HELL!

ONE TIMES ONE EQUALS SOME PAIR!

FEATURES

Rick Johnson

by

It was another typical afternoon at CREEM's posh eddytorial digs in luverly downtown Birmingham. Einsturzende Neubauten tapes blare, almost drowning out Bill Ho'ship, who is alternately hollering "He'p!" and "Yoohoo!" out the window at pedestrians below. Dave DiMartino has his face buried in the glacial wasteland of his desk, softly whimpering a sad song, the lyrics to which sound something very much like, "... dru mm m.. supplement..." Eddytorial Assistant Ann Marie is up on her seat, screaming "NO MO' AD COPY! NO! I REFUSE! I WILL NOT WRITE THE WORDS 'WIN BIG' EVER AGAIN!"

MICHAEL JACKSON & DAVID LEE ROTH

At first glance, the pairing of MJ and DLR appears as unimaginably ridiculous as the two MJs. After all, Michael's so totally clean-o, he looks like somebody spilled oil on him and the petroleum-slurping-bacteria licked it off. David Lee, on the other hand, looks like a huge, wet cheese log that's been battered by the prop wash of passing barges.

Upon closer examination, however, some interesting facts develop. Our crack (showing) investigative team has discovered that both subjects have been sighted in Southern California on 173 different days during the past three years. Neither can account for their whereabouts on all of these days to our satisfaction. In fact, neither of these dupes can do anything to our satisfaction.

A few other amazing fax turned up in our investigation: 1. The same day Michael had his nose reduced in size, Roth was hospitalized for undisclosed plastic surgery. One can only imagine where those extra inches of MJ's nose cartilage went; 2. Both were born of alleged females in a year beginning with the numerals 19; 3. Roth was a hyperactive child—-Michael still is; 4. MJ owns a German shepherd bitch; DLR only...aw, never mind; 5. If you throw out DLR's first name and add up the number of letters in his middle and last names, you get a total of seven. Both Michael's first and last names have seven letters! Can you deny that something fishy is going on here?

Meanwhile, the author is slyly writing all this down between trips to his "private" office. Being a deranged Tab addict— especially when the idea flow is down—and never being one to let a sleeping bladder lie, the author misses many of his fellow eddytors witticisms. He hopes.

Yes, these are desperate times. Deadline approacheth, as deadlines are wont, from "around the corner," to "almost there," way past "about that time, kiddies," right up to smack dab in the middle of DOOM DOOM DOOM. The only thing that elicits a smile from the misbegotten eddies at this point is the occasional hateful in-joke about "paying" the writers.

Suddenly, the sound of the eddytorial hatch being unbolted from the outside fills their hole with metallic scraping sounds not unlike what's playing on the tape deck, only much more melodic. The door swings open eerily, and several Mr. T-sized uniformed men rush in. After a quick sweep with metal detectors and a sawed-off staple remover, CREEM's Fearless Leader herself strolls in, views the slimy premises, somehow keeps her lunch down at the sight of what appears to be a cross between an Alien Sex Fiend dressing room and a maximum security Roach Motel, and snaps, "attenshun!"

"Whudduh concept," mumbles the author as the motley eddy crew fumbles to their very best approximation of "attention." Looks like they're gonna need some pipe cleaners.

"I heard that new Michael Jackson/Mick Jagger record on the way in today," Fearless Leader begins (amidst barely audible groans of "not again" and "Fluffo alert!"), "and that's gonna be our next coverl What d'ya think, kids?"

"Wonderful," says Dave.

"Excellent," says Bill.

"Quite excellent," says Ann Marie.

"Best idea I've ever heard," adds the ever brown-snouted author.

"OK, then do it, A.S.A.P.!" FL suggests in a somewhat forceful manner, pounding her fist on the author's head. Kronk, it goes, emptily. The bodyguards form a phalanx around Fearless and negotiate her through the free-fire saccharin zone safely.

"Guess that means we'll have to scrap the Butthole Surfers cover," complains Dave bitterly.

"Maybe we can get Kordosh to interview the Jacksons' dog," suggests Ann Marie.

"What does A.S.A.P. mean?" wonders the author.

Meanwhile, Ho'ship is gingerly unwrapping a new razor blade.

"Who wants first slit?" he asks.

The eddies, however, are silently grateful for the inspiration, which does not naturally occur in their environment. The author, in fact, is as grateful as a murder victim whose killer was caught from the skin found beneath the deceased's fingernails.

His fun reverie is shattered by the sound of his phone buzzing like a particularly objectionable answer on a game show. It's Fearless Leader again.

"And kids," she suggests sweetly, "don't make it all filler this time, K-O?"

...don't make it all filler this time, the author writes.

Now, there are many ways of interpreting the concept of "filler." Does she mean a substance added to a product as to increase bulk, weight, viscosity, opacity, or strength? Or perhaps a compostion used to fill in the pores and grain of wood or other surface before painting or varnishing? Or how about a piece or slice of boneless meat or fish? Oh, sorryl That's fillet!

Just as author-face is thinking of different ways to express fillerous filler, bloated bloating, fluffy fluff, and/or megamung, the phone screeches again. Gotta oil that thing someday.

"Listen, kiddo," uh-oh, it's FL's voice. "I have changed my mind," she announces, exactly like Jethro Bodine in the famous Jethro's Magic Act episode of Beverly Hillbillies. "That Jagger and Jackson record's a bomb! I have a better idea—let's make it a Michael Jackson and David Lee Roth cover instead!"

"In a word, brilliant!" says the author, clutching at his throat as though a noose was being tightened around it.

"And I want it today, or else I'll cancel your dry cleaning allowance!"

"You got it, boss!" sez me, ruminating on the unpredictable mechanics of genius. Either that or senility—he often confuses the two these days.

(TIME WARP: At this very moment in "real" time, one of CREEM's art jammers tiptoes up to the author's desk with this actual story in one hand and a bloodstained sledgehammer in the other.

"Hey, dirtball," she squeaks politely, "We need another 14 lines in this basket case of an intro."

"74 lines?!" wails Tabman with mock interest." Haven't the readers already suffered enough?"

"Fergit those knuckleheads!" she announces with a wink, not knowing her every word is being added to the article. "We got priorities!" GAME OVER)

Hmm, now that we've got that settled, let's see...Sonny & Cher, Jan & Dean, the Righteous Brothers, Eurythmics, Dale & Grace, Friend & Lover, The Captain & Tennille, Chad & Jeremy, Hall & Oates, Bachman-Turner Overdrive. ..dunno about you, but this author does not want to even think about these people, much less write about tnem.

STEVIE NICKS & AFRIKA BAM BA AT A A

A match made in heaven. Stevie's singing always seems as though it's about to float off somewhere like a UFFU (Unidentified Flying Female Undergarment). She definitely needs "roots," and Boss Bambaataa's got plenty of those. We're talkin' 'bout the guy who threatened to kick James Brown's butt if the King didn't produce Bammy's next record. In fact, let's take a readers poll here like the election Trix has every couple years to determine whether the Rabbit gets the cereal. Should Afrika Bambaata beat up Stevie Nicks? Results next month.

JOHN COUGAR & BARBARA STREISAND

You may laugh at this pair, but CREEM spies have confirmed the Rock 'n' Roll News item of a few months back which stated that Babs had called up the Coug and asked him to write and produce her next album. Of course, the original item was from the same spy, who is now doubtlessly amused by all the other silly publications that've since repeated the tale. If you ask me, confirming your own rumors is the gossip biz equivalent of paperboys who dump all their papers in vacant lots.

DALE BOZZIO & ANGUS YOUNG

When daddy Jim Anderson of Father Knows Best described dynamite to Kitten as "noisy but short," he could just as well have been talking about Angus. Or Dale's intellect, for that matter. Of course, Angus doesn't have the classy musical past of Mr. Bozzio. He's never played with Zappa, not even when Frank used midgets in his London snow. Still, the very idea of the beshortened AC/DC guitar killer trying to pick a note nigh enough to crack Dale's plexiglass bra is something to think about.

ROB HALFORD & THE ARIZONA WRANGLERS (USFL)

People who think Rob's a bad guy in real life are way off base. In fact, one of my own favorite rumors involves Rob getting the word PLACEBO tatooed on a part of his body that's normally viewed only by certain species of toilet bowl slime. And since singing football teams have always been the rage in the U.K., hey—what're you waiting for, sweetcakes?)

VINCE NEIL & ANNIE LENNOX

This duet would resemble a good baseball trade: Eurythmic Annie could dump her jaded sophisticate image and Vince—who claims he's starting to get tired of punching out women—would definitely up his sensitivity rating. The way / see it, there's nothing wrong with either of 'em tnat a corndog sideways wouldn't cure.

BOY GEORGE & WEIRD AL YANKOVIC

Putting these two diverse tweet/birds together would be as advanced a concept as "getting" the telephone. Can you imagine what Boy G. could add to Al's "Eat It"?

TONI TENNILLE & BILLY IDOL

Here's a pair that go together like warring militias. Toni's teen appeal is way down, even though the Human League had a big hit with "Mirror Man," which is just a shinier version of her famous "Love Will Keep Us Together.",Billy, on the other hand, seems to need the kind of seasoning an older woman could bring into his life. Either that, or a concrete shampoo.

BELINDA CARLISLE & JOE STRUMMER

The "singing" Go-Go has a true Teflon quality to her voice. Nothing will stick to it. Joe, well, he's got grit. You might say he's full of grit. The combination of Strummer's politically-yeasty songwriting and Belinda's meowville pop sensibilities would create the Kind of match-up that, if synopsized by TV Guide, would be described as a "lurid melodrama saved by some fine scenery."

KEITH RICHARDS & LATOYA JACKSON

The logical extension of the Jagger/Jackson duet, Keith and LaToya would be just right for each other, vocally speaking. CREEM's resident Jacksons' authority, Jim "Don't Call Me Farber" Feldman...or is it Jim "Don't Call Me Feldman" Farber?...whatever, one of these guys has pointed out that, "LaToya can't sing." Anybody who's heard Keith's vocal Alfalfa-isms on "Little T & A" will agree that these two deserve each other to death!

JOAN JETT & TONY CAREY

Here we gol Joan obviously needs a man to tame her wicked ways (HAHAHAHAHA) and I feel Equitorial Tony is Mr. Right. He sings about dead gangsters, doesn't he? OK, then he's tuff.

OZZY OSBOURNE & KEVIN DUBROW

These two luv-birds are a match, duet-wise. The Ooze, who writes anonymous letters to rock magazines cryptically signed #1 Dio Fan, has never been in better voice—he's been giving really good interviews. Just recently, he told our own J. Kordosh, "I ain't gonna say jackshit about that fucking DuBrow," then went ahead and said jackshit anyway: "He's got more mouth than a cow's got twat." Kevin, for his part, indicated that Ozzy was a "putz." I dunno about yours but my desktop copy of The Joys Of Yiddish says putz (rhymes with nutz) is "literally a vulgar slang for 'penis,' not to be used when women or children are around." Don't ya just love it, "pen/s"?

JULIO IGLESIAS & WILLIE NELSON

This one's so idiotic, we just hadda squeeze it in. Seriously now, getting these two in the same recording studio would be like taking your fire engine cookie cutter to the dough pony corral and ...WHAT? You mean to tell me Julio and Willie really have made a record together? And it's on the charts? Right, I am soooo sure. Next, you'll be telling me Mike Reno and Ann Wilson are on the charts too! Gawd, that's rich!

Note: If you're one of the people who bought this magazine exclusively for the cover story, the author would like to personally apologize to either of you.