The Cramps
Songs the Lord Taught Us (I.R.S. Records)
King Coffey of art-punks the Butthole Surfers told us about his love for a Cramps classic...
“You ain’t no punk, you punk. You wanna talk about the REAL junk? I’m your Garbageman!” - Lux Interior (1980)
There are times I think the Cramps are the greatest band in history. These are one of those times.
I bought Songs the Lord Taught Us when I was 16, and I was instantly in awe. It was as if the Groovie Goolies had somehow come to life and gotten a record deal. So insanely catchy, so perfectly realized from the get-go. I was convinced guitarist Bryan Gregory was a Satanist. I mean, he's wearing bones around his neck on the cover. The evidence is right there, people.
I can only imagine what the producer Alex Chilton thought when this crew walked into the birthplace of rockabilly, the Sam Phillips Recording Studio in Memphis. With this album, the Cramps simultaneously paid tribute, destroyed, and reinvented rockabilly in their own image.
No one could hold a candle to them. Everyone was too scared.
While it felt like the Cramps came from Mars, it also became clear they were A-level students of rockabilly and American trash culture in general. About a third of this album is cover songs. To the casual fan, though, it was hard to distinguish what was a cover and what was an original. They were natural artists who learned from the best, “Songs the Lord Taught Us” indeed.
I spent countless hours in front of the mirror trying to mimic Lux Interior's look. But I learned to play drums by playing along to Nick Knox. I didn't even own a drum kit yet. Just a pair of sticks and an old phone book, which I beat to a pulp playing along to “Sunglasses After Dark”.
This album, more than any other, taught me the beauty of feedback, primal beats, and great songwriting. In essence, the Cramps taught me what makes a great rock album.
Years later, the Butthole Surfers opened up for them at a show in DC. When the Cramps arrived for soundcheck, they ARRIVED, dressed in full Cramps regalia. It was clear that being a Cramp was something you live 24/7.
Ivy Rorschach walked up next to me and asked, “Can I put my amp here?” I couldn’t breathe. My idol was talking to me. I collected myself and stammered, “y-y-yess. Miss Ivy.” She gave me a little smile, a little smirk, and I knew I had just talked to a goddess.
My life would never be the same. It all goes back to this stunning debut album.
The Butthole Surfers' "lost album" After the Astronaut is out June 26.
Photo courtesy of Butthole Surfers
