The first and only time I saw The Mooney Suzuki was in 2003 for the Nokia/CMJ/MTV2-sponsored Advance Warning Tour. The Raveonettes were the headliner with White Light Motorcade, Longwave, and The Mooney Suzuki opening. I remember the evening vividly because my soon-to-be roommate Paul and I assisted in booking the event on our university campus.
But we did the event one better. We also volunteered to help staff the event. Generally, that would consist of ensuring the venue space didn't exceed capacity, but for reasons beyond Paul and I, we found ourselves as roadies for a day, doing cigarette runs and loading in gear for The Mooney Suzuki. The Raveonettes, Longwave, and White Light Motorcade weren't as demanding, and/or had others to do such work, and/or were capable, and/or content in doing the work themselves.
Paul and I obliged perhaps because we were foolish college sophomores or perhaps because we felt star-struck. Probably a bit of both.
I fancied myself as a burgeoning music journalist and viewed our exploitation/volunteerism as an opportunity. Shit, after loading the band's gear onto the third floor and fetching the bastards a pack of Camel Lights, the least they could do was agree to a brief interview — I had the questions already written; I stayed up late the night before researching what little press I could dig up.
Much to their credit, they did oblige to a brief interview, but they gave snide remarks for the few questions I could get in. Who was I, after all, to be asking THE MOONEY SUZUKI questions such as their favorite albums or their favorite movies? And perhaps to my detriment, I didn't take very good interview notes. The only thing I remember is Debbie Does Dallas being their favorite tour bus movie. They were huge assholes otherwise.
The show was free, but come to think of it, the barrage of Nokia, CMJ, and MTV2 advertisements was taxing on the brain. Nothing's free, I guess -- except the labor of Paul and I. Despite not selling any tickets, The Mooney Suzuki certainly had the attitude of The Rolling Stones. And their set sucked just as much.
Our attitudes were in the right place, though, and we watched their show from the back of the room, standing on chairs, pumping our fists sarcastically, sipping on our first beers in public as under-agers.
From the start -- as the third band to play that evening -- we were wishing we had more concert-going experience under our respective white and black belts. A few years more experience would have dictated we arrive only in time to see The Raveonettes. Nonetheless, we appreciated the advance warning: all of these bands were dismissible, nothing but a few cash cows beating the dead horse that was The Strokes' debut album.
Fast forward a few years, add a major-label deal with Columbia, tack on a crap album with a Santana rip-off cover, and you're pretty much up-to-date. And I'm left thinking, has it really been four years?
And I have every reason to believe that The Mooney Suzuki are still huge assholes. But is that all I can leverage against a few opportunistic, cool-at-the-moment, denim-clad, circle jerking, Coors-advertising cocksuckers? Am I only playing into their coy media ploy?
Probably. Their new album on Elixia titled Have Mercy is scheduled for a June 19 release. They're also going to tour behind that album. Apologies to The Photo Atlas and The Dark Romantics who will open. But I rescind my apology, for apparently ‘The’ bands still exist aplenty.
The Mooney Suzuki's name, by the way (as I've had plenty time to do my research this time), is an amalgamation of the two Can vocalists Malcolm Mooney and Damo Suzuki. The Mooney Suzuki sum to less than what fits into Damo's paper bag; is it a dose of vitamin-C?
Paul and I aren't really friends anymore:
* The Photo Atlas opening
# The Dark Romantics opening