Me First & the Gimme Gimmes
In Your Living Room
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But pop culture has a way of conferring respectability on all sorts of ridiculousness over time. For instance, in recent years the popularity of the tribute band–a close relative of the cover band but not quite the same thing–has exploded. In addition to the usual Elvis impersonators, Beatlemaniacs, and Jerry Garcia wannabes, there are bands directing the sincerest form of flattery at everyone from Blondie to Ratt to the Sisters of Mercy. A group called Badness pays homage to Bad Manners and Madness, while the Beautiful Southmartins are devoted to the Beautiful South and Fatboy Slim’s old band the Housemartins. There are at least 30 bands dedicated to reliving the glory of Thin Lizzy alone. For a while there was a band from LA called Nudist Priest, which played Judas Priest songs naked, and in 1996 Tim “Ripper” Owens, the singer for a string of Judas Priest cover bands in Akron, Ohio, actually joined the real Judas Priest; a movie based on his experience, starring Mark Wahlberg and Jennifer Aniston, is slated to come out this year.
Me First & the Gimme Gimmes are something of a west-coast punk supergroup: Fat Mike from NOFX, Joey Cape and Dave Raun from Lagwagon, Foo Fighters guitarist Chris Shifflet, and golden-throated crooner Spike Slawson, who normally plays bass for the Swingin’ Utters. For three albums now, they’ve specialized in reprocessing the cheese every self-respecting punk is supposed to despise. On their 70s-themed debut, Have a Ball, they took on Barry Manilow, Paul Simon, and James Taylor; on their second record, Are a Drag, they tackled Broadway, delivering blistering punk versions of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” and “Phantom of the Opera.”
It’s only in the past 30 years or so that songwriters have been elevated to their current exalted status. Frank Sinatra, perhaps the pop star for the ages, was no writer–his art was the transformation of someone else’s composition into his own masterpiece. Neither Murphy nor Slawson is the next Sinatra, to be sure, and thanks to their kitschy approaches–the Gimme Gimmes pose as Shriners with martini supplies on the cover of Blow in the Wind, while the Chestnut Station disc is emblazoned with a sticker promising “America’s #1 Party Album from America’s #2 Party Band!”–they’re not likely to be taken for contenders. But once you get past the shtick, both records affirm that the molding of preexisting material can be an art form in its own right.
