PISSING VINEGAR Vol. 22: Gimmick Battle Royal
Written April 2002

Okay, here's the situation...

It's been long enough. I will no longer be silent on this issue. I have to speak out now, and maybe... just maybe... the world will hear my small, singular voice and somehow realize the error of its ways. It's time to rise up and fight the evil that is... GIMMICKS.

This particular rant was inspired by the CHSR Battle Of The Bands. And it should be noted that I'm going to get really pissy about one of the acts I saw that night, but it should not be taken as a rant against the people themselves. I'm sure they're fine people who happened to trip over an untied shoelace, bumped their heads, and had a momentary lapse of reason. Therefore, please don't take personal offence to my words, as I do not know you as human beings, only the screaming, ugly monsters that have haunted my dreams since that fateful night.

I am speaking, of course, about Pimp T & The Skunky Punks. Now, perhaps their intentions were good, and as I've said in the past, anyone who gets on a stage and gives 'er shit gets a certain degree of respect from me. However, that's only a small piece of the pie. Like it or not, what you do once you get to that stage is the be all and end all of performing. And it seems to me that Pimp et. al. weren't performing at all. While Webster's defines the word performance as "a public presentation", I hardly see fit to let that suffice. When I go to a show, I want something more than a bunch of guys in matching uniforms slobbering on microphones over pre-recorded beats. And yes, I realize that there was, for part of the set, a live band, but I hardly see the effectiveness of it. But I digress. Pimp T, you are not the subject of my rant, but merely the inspiration. Now then, on to the main course.

Ever since Elvis donned sequined jumpsuits to compensate for his creative free-fall, countless performers have seen fit to disguise their lack of talent with flash and fanfare. For some, it has worked wonders. There's no way in hell a band like Slipknot would have made it had they not thought of getting matching overalls and crazy masks. Likewise, if Marilyn Manson had come out wearing a flannel shirt and glasses rather than a thong, self-inflicted razor-blade wounds and the make-up job from hell, no one would have batted an eyelash. But in this business, it's hard to claw your way to the top, and when talent won't do it, so many have chosen the cheap way up, whether it be $200-million stage sets or drinking urine, and it's a trend that just won't die. What really pisses me off about it all is that while a truly gifted artist will toil in anonymity, a bunch of screaming jackasses in color-coordinated jumpsuits sell out all the arenas and make the big bucks. I know this will never change, and I know that for every mind-blowing band that comes into this world, there will be ten talentless troupes of tragically terrible trashbags grabbing all the attention. Well, you gimmick whores, I say this: if you're going to be everywhere I turn, content to rip off the hordes of sorry shits who buy your records with your style-over-substance attitude, at least make it fucking entertaining! If I see one more fucking band with face paint and spiked hair, I'm going to torture KISS in my basement until Gene Simmons agrees to publicly announce a concession of the gimmicks' defeat on MTV. Sweet fucking Christ, I don't mind the flashy shit as long as there's a hint of musical ability to back it up (see: Mudvayne), but if you're going to infest my ears with that repugnant dogshit you wish was music, you'd better give me something to look at, cumsponge (thanks to Clapper for the kick-ass insult). So, for all you aspiring bands who never hope to make it anywhere outside of your parent's basement, smoking butts and jerking off to the lingerie section of the Sears catalogue while mom's getting groceries, I present to you your all-expenses paid ticket to the big time...

GIMMICKS WILLIE WOULD ACTUALLY LIKE TO SEE:

1. The "Husker Do": Basically, this one's inspired by Tom Green, and anyone who saw 'Freddy Got Fingered' knows what I'm talking about, and if you did see it (yes, it was dogshit, wasn't it?), chances are this gimmick is the only thing in the movie that made you laugh. So, anyway, band, here's what you do. Go to the forest (any forest will do). Find some dead animals (you may have to do the killing yourself, but for the love of Bambi, wait til hunting season). Gut them. Wear the husk like you would a raincoat. Proceed to the stage. Note: Deer are the preferred animal to wear for all members except the lead singer, who must wear a moose or bear. And always remember to bring a buddy when you go into the woods. You never know what creatures out there are thinking of making a bathrobe out of you, and you never know when you're going to get hungry.

2. The "Imposters": Think of your favorite celebrity of the opposite sex. Go to the internet. Find a life-sized headshot. Print it. Cut it out. Punch holes in the eyes, nose and mouth. Congratulations, you've got yourself a purty new mask, and the members of the audience will think you're some kind of supermodel supergroup! Besides, I'd much rather look at Tara Reid than your ugly mug.

3. The "Barnyard Buddies": Go to your favorite costume shop. Find a barnyard animal costume that suits you just right. Advise your fellow band members to do the same. Important: no fighting over who gets to be the donkey... that just makes all of you look like asses.

4. "Crazy Hat Day": You did it at your school's winter carnival... why the fuck stop there? Seek out the biggest, stupidest-looking hat you can possibly find. Strap that sumbitch on and hit the stage! Oh, one request, though: NO FUCKING DR. SUESS HATS!

5. "Feeding Frenzy": Think of your favorite food. Then become it! Feel free to smother yourself in hamburger, gravy, ketchup, mayonnaise, spaghetti sauce, etc., etc. Be forewarned, though. People WILL try to eat you (and not in the good way).


I hope we've all learned something today. And I hope that none of you aspiring superstars actually take heed to my word, oblivious to the sarcastic nature of my ideas. Unless, of course, you want to give the husk thing a try. I think I may actually pay money to see that.

Here endeth the ePISSle.