Ian Dury notwithstanding, Herman Brood was the epitome of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Mostly unknown in the U.S., Brood was a Dutch painter and rock musician, with an emphasis on excess. I saw the album at right in the cutout bin circa 1979 at Joe Nardone's Galley of Sound in Wilkes-Barre, Pa. It was only $2.99 and just intriguing enough to take a chance.
Thirty-eight years later, it remains one of rock and roll's great unknown records. Drenched in drugs, dripping with sex, this is mostly straight-ahead rock music. But it's loaded, and I mean loaded, with hooks, and the oohs from the back-up girl singers go for the groin every time. Brood is no great singer, but his emotion drives the music. After all, here is a guy who sang, "When I do my suicide for you, I hope you miss me too," 22 years before jumping off a roof to his death due to his drug demons. In "Dope Sucks," he tells a friend (girlfriend?) that (I) hate to see you fade away in some heartbreak-hotel room." Drugs were killing him, but don't let it happen to you too. Another bonus is the slightly weird but ultimately cool "cha-chas" Brood throws into almost every song.
It's just a tad overproduced, but still sounds fresh. Rock and roll driven by pain often finds the sweet spot.
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