KIM FOWLEY - Outrageous - (Imperial) - 1968, comment, review, Runaways.

I do not recollect how I ever heard about Kim Fowley but I have about ten of his albums now. His early ones, however, have eluded me in the past. They would inevitably cost a arm and a leg locally and even on the net you can't really find them that cheap. (This one I got for a bargain at $26 US)

To say Kim Fowley is eccentric would really be an understatement. Perhaps "nut job" would be better. Either way "unheralded genius" would be fair and I do not use that term lightly.

He does make Phil Spector look normal though.

His genius is not based on creating anything new but is based on drive, stamina, vision and a single minded determination to paddle his boat his way regardless of where the current is going.

Usually I would put in a bio here, and I will though I will say that I approach Fowley's bio with some trepidation. I do not know where to start as the guy has done everything over the last fifty or so years. So, with that in mind I will do a stream of consciousness ramble and if that tweaks something in you then go to the bio links at the end and … happy journeys.

1939 or 1942, Hollywood Brat, Hollywood supporting actor Douglas Fowley, Catholic school, 1958, Sandy Nelson, National Guard, Hollywood Argyles, B Bumble & the Stingers, Nut Rocker, Paul Revere & the Raiders, PJ Proby, Singer Songwriter, Skip Battin, garage rock, producer, Warren Zevon, Frank Zappa, Gene Vincent, psychedelica, Rodney Bingenheimer, poet, Helen Reddy, prime bullshitter, svengali, The Runaways, Joan Jett, sex, punk, no sales.

Allmusic politely introduces Fowley with: "One of the most colorful characters in the annals of rock & roll, Kim Fowley was, over the course of his decades-long career, a true jack-of-all-trades: singer, songwriter, producer, manager, disc jockey, and published poet. He was also the catalyst behind much of the music to emerge from the Los Angeles area during the 1960s and 1970s, guiding his associates and protégés to fame and fortune while remaining himself a shadowy cult figure well outside the margins of the mainstream."

If you haven't figured it out yet you are not going to be kicking back with some nice Sgt Peppers tunes here …

This album is "out there" at a time when there were quite a few "out there" albums. There is the tendency for one to say that Fowley is being "outrageous" for it's own sake but a closer listen to the music negates that. There is vision and a consistency of theme that is not manufactured. This is not the rantings of a mad man but it certainly is the ravings of a sane man who does not want to conform. His subsequent recordings vindicate this point of view. This album is no one trick pony but part of a larger body of work.

The album leans heavily on American west coast garage rock stylings with a bit of Zappa, Beefheart and Jim Morrison thrown in and all of these things would be positives that would achieve everlasting fame normally. Fowley however doesn't have the sex appeal of Morrison or the cultural kudos of Zappa and Beefheart (not enough jazz, art or Beat – too much LA Hollywood ) and the music is just too abrasive for commercial acceptance.

Fowley as writer, performer and producer knows what he is looking for. Backed by various members of Steppenwolf, Three Dog Night, as well as legendary guitarist Red Rhodes, and percussionist Joe Torres this is played well and, no doubt, achieves what Fowley was looking for.

What impresses most is that even though there are elements that are dated on the album, especially some of the studio tricks, the album is way ahead of its time. The themes and Fowleys vocalisation look forward to post-Stooges Iggy Pop, Bowie, Henry Rollins and punk. Fowley, like a schizophrenic pornographer on speed at a girls school vacillates between in your face garage rock and crazed spoken word ruminations. The albums grabs you buy the balls and demands to be listened to, and just when you have your most serious rock 'n' roll face on Fowley turns around and slaps you on the head and you realise he's taking the piss … probably.

Tracks (best in italics)

Animal Man– Has Iggy listened to this ? Methinks he has. This is garage updated for the 70s … in 1968!. A year before The Stooges would tackle the same concept and a few years before the not dissimilar "I'm Bored". This song is magnificent.

Oh animal man, you’re so rough and so… big.

Grunt , moan, grunt

It’s too dirty, it’ll be banned

Wildfire – I have no idea what this song is about … but as a meaningless rambling with slow grind backing goes this is great.
Hide & Seek – a instrumental inserted for no apparent reason but a beautiful nod to Kim's roots of the early 60s updated with sleek funky keyboards and wha wha guitar.
Chinese Water Torture – I don't know what is going on here I'm just grateful that he didn't put on blackface. There seems to be a recurrent them of the Chinese invading America in 1987.
Nightrider – more Stooges.
Bubble Gum – as radio friendly as Fowley would get on this album with a touch of The Doors.
Inner Space Discovery – Hello Iggy, you have great taste. Magnificent.
Barefoot Country Boy – Fowleys straight rock number as if Chuck Berry was playing on Elvis' "Kissin Cousins" soundtrack.
Up: Up/Caught in the Middle/Down – these three songs are listed separately on the album but usually listed together as they form a suite … in fact I can't tell where one song ends and the other begins. This is 14 captivating minutes (and I'm not drinking) of stream of consciousness which is part double entendre, part nasty sex, and part treatise on sexual politics building to a apocalyptic or orgasmic crescendo. Straight people going "nowhere", a roomful of virgins, black negroes taking white chicks, white guys taking black chicks, and the Chinese invading in 1987, again, are covered with a backbeat of jagged guitars, freestyle rhythm and sound effects. Benny Hill meets Frank Zappa at Marquis de Sade's house.