Depending on who you talk to, the Plasmatics were either one of rock's most magnetic and radical bands or a pack of hacks with a sackful of stage gimmicks. Certainly, all these years after the demise of lightning-rod frontwoman Wendy O. Williams, and hence the band, the Plasmatics still generate plenty of vehement debate -- a clash of intense adulation and feverish contempt -- especially on the Internet. At the very least, then, one must concede the status of phenomenon to these theatrical New York quasi-punks. Examining ...
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Depending on who you talk to, the Plasmatics were either one of rock's most magnetic and radical bands or a pack of hacks with a sackful of stage gimmicks. Certainly, all these years after the demise of lightning-rod frontwoman Wendy O. Williams, and hence the band, the Plasmatics still generate plenty of vehement debate -- a clash of intense adulation and feverish contempt -- especially on the Internet. At the very least, then, one must concede the status of phenomenon to these theatrical New York quasi-punks. Examining their music is somewhat problematic, in that the Plasmatics phenom was a holistic, life-as-art/art-as-life thing. The posturing, the hueing and crying and sensational press, the stage antics -- all were part of the artistic package. The music was one ingredient in the synergy. That said, the music standing alone is occasionally powerful, sometimes cookie-cutter. A checkered repertoire that served as the soundtrack for Ms. Williams' rabid social commentary and in-your-face indictments. On the (typically) provocatively titled Put Your Love in Me, a new-millennium repackaging of previously released material, the unevenness is certainly in evidence, as is some very distinct derivativeness. But just try turning it off. Not so easy. Maybe it's the power of myth pervading the listening experience, but PYLIM is hard to turn away from. The (typically) provocatively titled opening track, "Fuck That Booty," is one of the highlights. A raging, riffing, hair metal-style number -- which actually predates hair metal and is therefore one of the less derivative cuts -- it steams along fuelled by angry axes and the smell of sex. Meanwhile, "Put Your Love in Me" is chugging hard rock that pushes the same libidinous buttons; "Fast Food Service" is unadulterated post-punk punk; "Bump and Grind" sounds like vintage Kiss (with a blistering guitar solo from resident weird boy Richie Stotts); and the (typically) provocatively titled "Sex Junkie" is a live punk number with Stotts treading hard on the wah-wah for the solo. You'll also find serious nods to AC/DC ("Black Leather Monster") and Thin Lizzy ("Jailbait"). And yet there's something of the Plasmatics' fierce spirit in (almost) every cut -- and there was nothing counterfeit about that. The only track that should go to the scrapheap is "The Humpty Song," a bunch of chanting, so-so rapping, scratching, and studio noodling that brings nothing to the game. Despite some shortcomings of originality, Put Your Love in Me is an entertaining record that grabs your ear tighter with each listen. While it's not going diminish the polarity of opinion about the Plasmatics, it serves as a reminder that rock & roll isn't about analysis but about just letting rip. By that measure, it's hard to knock this album. ~ Adrian Zupp, Rovi
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Add this copy of Put Your Love in Me to cart. $30.05, new condition, Sold by Revaluation Books rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Exeter, DEVON, UNITED KINGDOM, published 2002 by PLASMATIC MEDIA.
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