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NEIL HAGERTY, guitar terrorist, ex-heroin addict
and one-half of the Royal Trux’s sonic deconstructionist
duo, wants to be called Neil Michael Hagerty now.
Anyone who’s ever relied on the addition of a middle
name to lend an air of significance knows that it’s
a loaded proposition: People who knew you before will
make fun of you. People who didn’t know you before will
get you confused with your former self. Some people
will tell you that adults who use middle names are pompous,
but people, like C. Everett Koop, who use a first initial,
are okay. And some people will tell you the opposite.
Regardless of where you stand on the middle name issue,
his new album is just okay. Perhaps that’s why he’s
decided to start using his middle name. Maybe it’s some
kind of cover—like no one will notice it’s the same
guy playing all that sideways, Burroughsian blooze.
But, it is. Unfortunately, like Burroughs, Hagerty only
had a few good stories in him and they are in his past.
Where once he was capable of conjuring up the raunchiest,
opiated rock ‘n’ roll this side of a Detroit-area NA
convention, now Neil just turns out choogling bar band
riffs that sputter like a ‘69 Camaro with a faulty carburetor.
Right out of the gate, 'Plays That Good Old Rock
‘n’ Roll' falls flat on its face, but for Neil it
doesn’t seem to matter much because he’s finally free
to do his own thing and he’s free of all Royal Trux’s
baggage too.
“Yeah, well, with my own thing, I just write songs and
I try to work with the musicians without any overweening
concept in mind,” explained Neil. “That’s the thing
that makes the difference. With Royal Trux, we would
actually have to have some sort of plan, because a lot
of it had to do with working things or working the system
with the record companies and the people who buy records
and the press.”
After a failed final tour in 1999, Hagerty jettisoned
his Barbie-meets-Barbarella-on-Demerol sidekick, Jennifer
Herrema, in 2000 for her inability to stay straight,
and quickly went back to doing what he does best, turning
out 2001’s self-titled solo release Neil Michael Hagerty
on Drag City. The album was successful enough for Drag
City to let him do it again in 2002. But it’s questionable
if the label that put out seven of the Royal Trux’s
nine full-length releases can effectively judge Neil’s
output. Of course, that’s the crux of the biscuit: Can
anybody effectively judge Hagerty’s music? Well-known
for his ambivalent blend of outsider musical influences,
lo-fi aesthetics and old-school bombast, the thing about
Hagerty’s music is it’s always been hard to tell if
it’s a put-on or pure genius.
“In Royal Trux we would do things like, ‘Okay, every
song is going to be four minutes long.’ So we would
have to extend them out and we would try to say, like,
‘Okay we’re going to write too many songs, or we’re
going to make an album where there’s way too many songs
to listen to, or people will hate the following songs,’
or we’d write something really stupid that we knew people
would like.”
While Neil deserves a big pat on the back for having
the balls, creativity and who-gives-a-fuck attitude
to produce such works, with the exception of a few hipsters
pretending to get the Trux’s brand of heroin-addled
junk rock, most people wouldn’t walk across the street
to spit on his records, let alone care about the nuances
of how they were made. Of course, Hagerty did say he’s
left all that behind. Nevertheless, 'Plays That Good
Old Rock ‘n’ Roll' still manages to unfold like
a secret message without the decoder ring. The album’s
first track, “Storm Song,” for instance, is based on
one long, repetitive and boring riff that just drones
on and on endlessly while Hagerty, doing his best/worst
impression of Dr. John, repeats the daft couplet “Only
God can rescue me/Only God can make a tree.” Yikes!
Despite the title’s implications, “Shaved C*nt” is kind
of boring too, until Neil busts it up with one of his
trademark freakout solos at about two minutes in. The
only problem is the solo becomes the song and then devolves
into an obtuse guitar noodling session only to eventually
turn into an even more obtuse blues refrain which then
ends without warning.“ Oklahoma Township” isn’t much
of an improvement either. Though it gets a few points
for sounding like some little-known Buddy Miles record
from the 70s, with Leon Russell on vocals, again, the
whole song is driven by a mindlessly hackneyed vamp
that doesn’t go anywhere. However, the album does have
some redeeming qualities. “Sayonara” features a wack
and dirty solo that sounds like your brain achieving
virtual satori after a huge bonghit. And both “Gratitude”
and “Louisa La Ray” have that old-school Royal Trux
dirty-boogie sound where guitars cook and shimmer with
filthy innuendo—like the sound of some drunken husband
leering at his wife’s 15-year-old niece distilled. But
again the melodies are kind of boring and don’t go anywhere.
What listeners are left with is an album that neither
beckons nor rebuffs, but mostly doesn’t do anything.
It just sort of lies there waiting for you to dig it.
Of course, maybe the average listener is a rube. Maybe
they’re not meant to get it. Pussy Galore, Hagerty’s
first band, made a name for itself playing some of the
trashiest rock ‘n’ roll ever committed. Some would even
hesitate to call it rock ‘n’ roll. In fact, one reviewer
even remarked, “the only difference between good Pussy
Galore music and bad is that the latter is boring and
the former is not.”
The Royal Trux weren’t much better, so maybe it is all
a joke. But talking to Neil you get the feeling it’s
not. “The thing is, you can’t cheat an honest man,”
Hagerty explained. “I really believe that. We like to
get involved in really weird stuff and get people tangled
up in their own greed and egos and then their personalities
or stupidity will take over.”
The way the new album sounds, most people will never
get that chance. On the other hand, since releasing
the record in February, Hagerty has toured twice - once
as a headliner and once opening up for Wilco - and he
said the reactions to the shows have been positive.
So maybe without having to sift through the subtle tricks
and head games of the past, listeners will finally be
able to unravel the mystery of Neil Michael Hagerty
and not wonder if it’s all a lie. Still, after so many
years of putting out mediocre rock records, who really
cares?
“The Royal Trux was just a bunch of shit,” Neil confessed.
“I mean, I know what we were thinking, but I think the
benefits of Royal Trux come with the person who listens
to it. But with my band, I’m not indulging any of those
[tricks] at all. It’s totally take it or leave it, it’s
for real.”
Great. Unfortunately, it’s a bit like the boy who cried
wolf. Somewhere along the line, Hagerty jumped on the
wagon and decided to get straight with his audience;
however, it might be too late. After so many self-indulgent
years of pushing the heroin-chic blues, Neil’s brand
of doped-out noodlephonics has kind of lost the plot.
Of course, that has never stopped him before. But at
this stage of his career it’s kind of sad that it’s
only when he plays a cover that Hagerty’s cheered.
“We played in Columbus one night and it was bizarre
because we it was a little tense, and then we did a
cover of “Sweet Jane” in the middle of the set and that
went over really well, cuz it was, like, all kids. But
I got the feeling they could have turned on us pretty
soon.”
Allan Kemler for Crud Magazine© 2002
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