by Will Tizard

It sounded simple enough--take a soft spoken hack writer (I would put that in first person, but that would be presumptive) who knows nothing about music in general and even less about punk and have him (me again) interview a boisterous punk band, the Effigies.

So, when Albini and the editor approached me about it, I naively accepted the assignment. At that point I didn't know the Effigies were a tattoo-riddled lot, with more than the recommended daily allowance of sexist, racist and other types of tongue-in-cheek Fat Bob jokes and their own record company.

The band had opted for the six-pack-and-cold-cuts style interview, which suited me, since my baggie-lined pockets and quick fingers could provide me with a supply of cheese sandwiches to feed me into my dotage.

They asked me to leave out the who-do-you-hate-most questions, apparently anxious to avoid animosity with other bands. I saw no reason for animosity, that night or since. I mean, come on, they even fed a musical illiterate.

So, armed only with a tape recorder, my ignorance, and Albini as interpreter, I asked question after question as the band and I drank Old Styles and ate salami well into the evening.

Okay, how many tattoos do you have, collectively?

Paul Zamost (bass): Well, five, now that Steve (Economou, drummer) has one...(shouts) Now that Steve has one--

Steve Economou: My folks don't know I have one yet.

Steve looked nervous, since his mother was walking around earlier and might have been in shouting range.

So the consensus is that they hurt, but they're worth it?

Zamost: My next one's going to be on the penis.

Earl Letiecq (guitar): Depends on why you get it if it's worth it or not.

Steve Albini (asshole and associate): They're not like party underwear you can take off when you're bored with them.

Tell me about Ruthless Records, your company. You realize you're talking to an idiot here.

Zamost: So, you're asking an idiot.

John Babbin (manager and label head): The way you go about starting a label is to put out a record, and that sets things up so you can do more.

John Kezdy (vocalist): The actual label doesn't mean anything. When anybody puts out a record, that means he has a label. When there are other bands on the label and more than one release on the label, it means more than putting out a record and going back into oblivion.
Our record label is run like a cooperative, it isn't a regular company. Basically, everybody puts up money for their own productions. It's more of a unification of like-minded proiects, like us, Naked Raygun, Albini's record and the Allied.

Babbin: Also, if we can consistently put out good records, then people can go to the store and see some consistency in Ruthless Records. It doesn't have to be just one kind of music, just hopefully a good record.

Kezdy: It can also be mutually supportive. If Albini goes up on stage, we know he'll be wearing an Effigies T-shirt.

Albini: Or else I'll get a tattoo on my dick.

Babbin: Getting bands from other areas, like the Allied from Michigan or this band from Seattle, Who Killed Society, also widens your support and gets attention for all the bands.

Who else is involved in the company?

Babbin: We've got Enigma, from California, who are pressing and distributing the We're Da Machine record (the Effigies' 12" EP), so that one's on Ruthless/Enigma, and we might do a similar deal with other records. They're also going to distribute the Naked Raygun record and maybe other things.

Kezdy: It's pretty obvious that we're dealing with a limited market for this, so it means we've got to be dedicated. We're not like these idiots who play in these dick rock bands around the suburbs and send demos to the president of CBS Records. They end up in the dung heap.

Albini: Those record people never have to buy blank tapes--ever.

Are the Effigies self-sufficient?

Kezdy: We all have jobs, but the records are pretty self-sufficient. We want to go into the studio for the album, but we're basically using the proceeds from the last gig.

Zamost: Which wasn't that great a turnout, I might add.

What do you do?

Babbin: I'm usually a clerk.

Kezdy: I deliver drugs.

Economou: We all know that Earl stamps hands over at Exit.

Babbin: He carries ice and breaks up fights.

A series of jabs at Earl about Detroit Leo ensued and it wasn't until much later that I found out Paul drives a truck, Steve is thinking about architecture school and John Kezdy really works in a boating equipment shop.

Do you ever find yourself too depressed after a day job to work on rehearsals?

Kezdy: It's not that bad. Most of us are members of the white cane club--stealing your boss blind.

What would the Effigies like to do?

Babbin: Everybody would like to be able to quit their day jobs, or at least not rely on them so much.

Economou: More equipment.

Someone made a quip about a "Marshall stack," and being ignorant, I foolishly asked what those things were.

Kezdy: That's the part of Earl that's not in the room now.

Albini: it's connected by a long, thin cord that comes out of the base of his spine.

Who's your favorite conservative?

Zamost: My stepfather, Gary. He's still got his first nickel.

Babbin: We want to donate money to the John Birch Society and build a cable TV station.

When you've performed, has anything really odd happened?

Kezdy: This guy thought it would be really 'punk' to take a garbage can and invert it when it was full, all over the stage. He got told what punk was about, everybody whaled on him.

Economou: I remember the look on Ray's (from Six Feet Under) face when he was beating the shit out of him.

Zamost: Once, this one fat kid got up onstage to jump, and everybody got out of the way. The look of panic on his face--he started clawing at the air.

Economou: I remember playing on the midget drum kit in Vancouver. The thing just kept getting smaller and smaller.

What are your favorite cartoon characters?

Letiecq: Bullwinkle and Rocky.

Economou: Heckle and Jeckyl.

Zamost: I like Foghorn Leghorn.

Babbin: I like Roadrunner, but I wish just once...

Albini: Somebody should put up a screen so when the Roadrunner hit it, he would come out like strings.

Talk degenerated into a meander about road sex (NANCY: STEVE SAYS HE NEVER, EVER HAS SEX WITH GIRLS ON THE ROAD, HONEST.), Detroit Leo, the towering ancient biker homo who threatened a patron at COD with a cue ball, Earl throwing a girl out of bed for moaning "Good lovin'," and a slew of leper jokes (Why was the leper spy arrested? Trading arms with Libya).

With our beers and sandwiches, we marched onto the porch for some photos and Albini, always a quick boy with explosives, threw a smoke bomb into the ashtray. I had to restrain the band from forcibly tattooing him afterward.

I still know almost nothing about punk, but now I know what to call a legless, armless man lying on the floor--Art.

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