Gregg has recently relocated. An even more revised synopsis will be replacing the one below shortly.
as recounted by co-founding member
Hi everybody. Gregg Turner here. Here? Well, if you haven't hit on this Web page previously, then I'll tell you that "here" means here in Santa Fe, New Mexico. But why there? Not necessarily to escape the smog and white noise of el A, that's not why I find myself out on a ledge of 7000 feet above sea level, surrounded by Juniper and Pinon trees, no-see-ums (pin-sized nasty sand flies that bite and itch for eternity) and children-of-the-earth (more bugs), hippie and cowboy subhumanoid lowlifes that can't replay enough Jim Croce and Joan Baez drivel -- help! Here, because of the job - I teach at The College of Santa Fe, I'm the lone math prof at a primarily art-oriented 4-year private college. Hey - it's not funny. The job market in four-year college mathematics is tres bleak - sometimes over 1000 applications for a single tenure-track advertised position. So I guess I'm lucky to have landed with a gig anywhere (it could've been in Indiana, right?). Point is, I'm not, to put it kindly, overloaded teaching courses in topology and partial differential equations or anything else I would find challenging, mainly lower division stuff, but I also get to create bitchen courses like "Understanding Infinity" and " UFO Mathematics" (don't ask).
Moved "here" in summer of 1993. Now I collect rocks a lot (impressive assortment of petrified wood and agate have I) and that keeps me going. Don't miss at all the "music scene" of a big city (admittedly there've been withdrawels, severe ones, at first); but in fact, listening to "alternative" radio and witnessing the corporatization (is that a word?) of pop music into generic dogfood -- I feel like I've been granted asylum. You give me an Oasis and an Alanis whatever-her-name-is and I'll trade you back the Weirdos and Nico. You'll lose.
If this sounds like a bunch of sour pinon nuts, you might be right. Actually, I really like the 2nd Cracker (Kerosene Hat).
Angry Samoans ?? Oh yeah, I should probably say something about these guys, right? That's why you're "here," ostensibly. OK -- this is the scoop. Last show we played was at the Club Lingerie (LA) in December of 1991. Saunders (he and I co-founded the band in 1978) got into a car accident (his 23rd?) later that night, that was it. The End. No-one could stand the sight of anyone else, so after twelve years of mounting antipathy (not Samoan but always Angry) we did the honorable thing: stopped communicating and, breaching that final passive aggressive existential crossroads, stopped playing together!! For sure not the first time we had retreated into safe corners and threatened to throw in the towel. There are many bloody stories involving maggot-infested psychic entrails, as it were. But it turns out that on this particular evening of December 1991, we had arrived at apparently, the final, uhm, maggot. All bones of contention aside, quite remarkable that we lasted 12 years in close quarters. Three trips down the East Coast, one up in the Pacific Northwest, San Fran Bay Area, of course, lots of times. And LA by default for what it was worth. Oh yeah, can't forget that show at the rent-a-hellhole in San Diego with the Vandals. We were headlining but never made it onstage - lead Vandal guy made some racist crack at an Afro-American dude in the front and a full scale riot broke out. But that was the nature of the dog in San Diego. A really horrible place in general [we almost made it to Europe, theoretically a big following. But Saunders wouldn't fly and - at best - offered to take "the boat" - insisted he should be compensated for days missed at work (the "boat" takes 4 or 5 weeks across the ocean). So 1991 marked the end of the Angry's. The end?
Yes, the END. But apparently a footnote to this. Seems that Saunders, after initially pursuing some solo-performance forays up in the Berkeley Bay Area, has "re-invigorated" The Angry Samoans once again and if you're in that neck of the bay you might spot ads for this bastard progeny. For those who enjoy the spectacle of a lame horse in search of the the glue-factory barn, this could rate prime time entertainment. I mean, c'mon. Metal Mike must be the better part of his latter 4th decade on this planet - can he still be venting dad-rage ("My Old Man's A Fatso") and/or singing "Slave To My Dick" to a new generation of 12-year olds? Wouldn't psychotherapy (or, uhm, medication -- the question must be asked!!) at this stage in one's life be a healthier platform? Recall that on many occasions once upon a time MR. Metal has been quoted as saying that "the only thing lower than a heroin junkie is a rockstar - or someone who wants to be" (such a thing). Time to get the guy on methadone.
Ok, wait a minute. Bile extraction time ... Got it, I'm ok now. Geez, you're saying to yourself (I can hear it!) : "I just wanted an Angry Samoans update -- or chronicle of sorts -- and I walked into this lunatic's diatribe about how much he can't stand his former band-mates." Did I say that? True that I haven't talked to Todd (original bass player) -r since 1987 (or was it 88? memory fails me), there are liner notes on the recent XXX-released Unboxed Set compilation which speaks of this (Todd etc). Drummer Billy, well it's been a few years too. But I think I actually will give Toddy a call soon -- and Mike just sent me a box of T-shirts (ugly new Samoans tees he's made, but cool Kinks) so maybe the lines of communication have evolved (still haven't said a word to each other in 4+ years) ?? In any case, the band appears to have achieved some sort of vintage status of late, what with Foo Fighters leading off their live set with "Gas Chamber" ? You think? hmmmm.
Rather than bore you with the usual chronicity (or dyschronicity as it was/is) of evolution, when we formed, blah blah blah -- I thought I'd scan in an old interview and that'd relay the same info. Also, I've been getting about 2-10 e-mails a day from the previous WEb-text (incredible!) and I thought that maybe this space would be best served by answering common questions posed. OK? OK. I'll even throw in some you hadn't thought of!
What has XXX Records released or re-released in the last couple of years that may or may not be available in local retail outlets?
There's a 40 or so minute video compilation which includes the cover of the Chambers Brothers' "Time Has Come Today" and the legendary Kenji Shibuya Incident (a 12-minute skit where we, in desperation, hire a professional wrassling manger, the notorious Kenji Shibuya, to jumpstart our career. Instead he jumpstarts our bodies, and replaces us with a fake Angry Samoans - all his wrestling buddies complete with the one and only John "The Golden Greek" Tolos (an impressive cameo here!). But we insist that our fans are too intelligent to fall for such a cheap trick and challenge all of these phonies to a loser leaves town battle of the bands! I remember, that when filming, thinking that meeting John Tolos (my dog's namesake) was surely the highlight of my existence. STill is! XXX has also released an Unboxed Set CD; primarily this is everything previously recorded on one CD. For this, as I recall, I wrote more sour pinon nuts liner notes. But all in all, I'd recommend the original CD's. This seems like just another XXX re-packaging gimmick to cash in on opportunity, if you ask me. Tho if you don't have half of the original five CD releases then maybe it's a good deal. XXX can be contacted at (213) 221-2204.
What have you personally recorded or been involved with musically since the Angry Sams demise?
Well, as long as you asked. Following the great Club Lingerie Samoans belly-up back in 1991, I shifted gears and de-punked myself (or reasonable facsimile thereof). Recorded this CD in 1993 (just before leaving el A) called the Mistaken - it eventually was released by XXX in the summer of 1994 and, as far as I know, is still in print (or orderable via XXX above). Reviews tagged it somewhere the middle of Jonathan Richman and Tom Lehrer if that helps to identify an aesthetic bent. Naturally, this shook the music world to its very foundation and to live down the ensuing notoriety I have been keeping a somewhat lower profile playing open-mike nights "here" in the City Different (aka Santa Fe). If open-mike night sounds pathetic, you're of course right, but keep in mind there's really nowhere else to play in this desert metropolis. There's the fat Burl Ives-guy who sings the Simon and Garfunkle songbook downtown, and the eyepatch blues singer from Memphis who still thinks its 1973. Then there's the Bonnie Raitt clone at the BBQ place on Guadalupe Street. And we won't even talk about all the Salsa and Flamingo ensembles - get the picture? When the New Riders of the Purple Sage (Old Riders??) ambled into some hack dive downtown last year, large lines of long-haired chia-pet beards (they all look like that cretinoid singer from the Spin Doctors in this burg) freezeframed the moment. It's that bad. In fact, I even got banned from one open mic venue for making an "ill-advised Jerry Garcia crack" a month or so after that bozo croaked.
Anyhow, where was I?, oh yeah, the working title of this combo is Gregg Turner and the Blood-Drained Cows. The BDC's are my quiet little backing band (Jessica plays brushes on a snare and Malcolm sings harmonies and doo-wop stuff). I "sing" (a generous description) and play the same guitar (tho much diff sound) I did with the Sams (red Epiphone Riviera). Blood-drained Cows, I'm speaking carved up bovines, are a big deal here in New Mexico. Each August, they find a dozen or so with excised genitals, tongue and rectum .. and red cells apparently extracted (Independence Day missed out on this). Whatta concept, eh?
Are you still writing for Creem, Stone, Spin, etc ??
Nope. Threw in my rock-crit press badge some time ago, just couldn't stand the homogenization of bad talent source, corporate McDonalds-ing of bad talent source and press mags which shill for the industry and bad talent source.
Instead, have, err, branched out - I'm working on written transcriptions (and a compiling an anthology of these) of "campfire" like stories I have become known for over the years (one of these, "The Tapeworm Story," I believe, is included in this Web page package). Hopefully this shall be issued within a year (??).
If I see a listing promoting an Angry Samoans gig in my neck of the woods, could it possibly be a "reunion" show? Would it be worth my money to find out?
Far as I know, the UFO you're describing is probably Saunders + sycophants he has recruited who are meticulously trained to take orders and not subtract from his need for validation. As stated above, haven't seen this recent incarnation, tho I hear some groupie-oid gurl is playing lead guitar. As far as being worth your monies, if it's less than a dollar to check it out (that includes gas and food) .....
That is to say - they pay you a dollar to attend ....
Is it true that Green Day used to open for the Sams way back when?
Funny you asked. I'd been excavating old posters and paraphernalia from my folks garage last time down to Southern California. There were fliers of when GD opened for us on several occasions in Petaluma, CA (egg country); fliers of the Offspring opening shows in Sacramento (boy do they reek); same for the Stone Temple Pilots (in Huntington Beach) and of course Bad Religion various times in Hollywood and so forth and so on. Don't ask what's wrong with this picture.
FOR FURTHER INFO/QUESTIONS ETC I MAY BE CONTACTED BY:
thetapewormstory@comcast.net
gregg@blooddrainedcows.com
If, for some reason, you find yourself in this area, feel free to look me up (I'm listed in the phone book). I try to answer all e-mail I receive, usually I accomplish this within the week it's received. If I'm slow getting back on interview requests or more extensive questions and the like, bear with me. Or keep bugging me! Thx for all the interest! - gt/ July/1996
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