Wild and wooly psychotic punkabilly rowdiness crampacked to the tantalyzin' tee with pulsatin' perversion...deviantly degenerate ditties switchblade-slashed with evil atomic ampings and nasty sleazy S&M naughtiness... latex and leather audial lasciviousness which sandblasted my ears with an abrasively raucous blend of sonic insanity and roaring whirls of garish pinup-girl giddiness! Cacophanously combine the decadent auditory plunderings of the Stooges, the voodoo cemetary vampings of The Cramps, the dark and tortured debauchery of 45 Grave, the hedonistic hell-raisin' haplessness of the Damned, and the gutter-tramp ferocity of X... there you have the Satan-spawned Blue Flames, folks! Yep, this lil' heartcrusher of a cassette is a musical motherlode of rampaging brilliance and feverishly impassioned rock'n'roll grit to be blasted LOUD at ear-damaging decibels... indeed it's left me in a tobgue-tied cross-eyed droolin' state of splendorous stupor, causing my heart to rapidly palpitate and my mouth to slickly salivate! HotDamnShit, The Blue Flames sure fire me up, bub! -Rog

THE ROGUISH ROGER REVIEW:
The Blue Flames:
Drivin' N' Dyin' In Texas-

This is primal voodoo-crazed rock'n'roll swagger at its sleaziest, naughtiest, and most outrageously immoral-- it's savage and untamed Texas-style psychobilly madness that's as evil, vile, indecent, and debauched as a sweat-soaked free-for-all orgy in Hell but as sensual, sleek, and cool as a leather-jacketed Marlon Brando hoodlum casually struttin' his stuff in the primitive black-and-white world of "The Wild One".

Imagine a sadistic Betty Page goddess lewdly frontin' The Cramps; Johnny Cash as a vampiric leather-clad vixen backed by The Damned if they were a hootin'-and-hollerin' group of rockin' Mississippi Delta swamp-rats; a trashed-out Concrete Blonde thoroughly drenched in cheap booze, sloppy meaningless sex, and other delightfully taboo conjurations of the devil which eventually drain a man's soul dry; or X as a rowdy bunch of musical cattle-rustlin' bandits performin' in a ramshackle saloon along the tumbleweed-strewn streets of Dodge City during a raging apocalyptic dust-storm.

Yep, this is rebellious sonic insolence at its loudest, liveliest, and most festive and boisterous! The seductive enchantress vocals are sultry, enticing, and unequivocally sin-inspiring to the point of erotically inducing a concrete-solid erection upon my penis; the dangerous and deadly guitar strafings are a frenetic flurry of conflagrant attitude-driven fury (beyond unbelievably bad-ass!); the bass and drums are an unholy cacophonous union of unbridled barbaric virility. Indeed, taken all together, these are the most sinfully sensational sounds to seduce my ears since my momma squeezed me out like a wet-nosed lil' puppy many, many moons ago! "Drivin' N' Dyin' In Texas" is so aurally thunderous, it knocked a big ol' knot the size of Dallas upon my head and mercilessly pummelled my brains to a pulp before I ever knew what hit me (bruisin', batterin', and smashin' my brew-sloshed senses silly!).

Hell yeh, that's exactly the reason The Blue Flames are still my all-time favorite lil' ol' band from Texxxas! - Roger Moser, Jr., Razorcake.com

The Blue Flames: A Sonically Smokin' Sit Down with the Blue Flames Roger Moser Jr. - 3/18/2001

Unadulterated pure primal American rock'n'roll… a sourmash swirl of venomous satanflash voodoobilly sonic raunch… a nipple-twerpin' noggin-thumpin' ear-bruisin' slice of rampaging musical mayhem… barhound sloshed-to-the-gills down'n'dirty dizzyin' punk-grit-blues… the explosively hair-raisin' rock'n'roll equivalent of Frankenstein monster's first blood-curdling roar of skin-crawlin' electrically torched madness! Ladies and gentlemen, without any further aimless ado, I present to you the fabulously ferocious Blue Flames! And, by the way, a thunderous applause of thanks is drunkenly due to Kimberly Boyce for her photographic expertise and finger-clickin' typing skills, and to the infinitely inimitable Blue Flames for rabidly re-igniting the (sometimes) flickering flame of rock-and-fucking-roll…

Blackie Geer: lead guitar  ∙  Kayce Geer: vocals  ∙  JP Portis: bass  ∙  Rodney Baird: skins

Rog: An intoxicatin' introduction, if you will... State your monikers, aliases, and naughty li'l between-the-sheets, in-the-boudoir nicknames; and please inform the perusing populace of your ear-manglin' musical instrument of necessity….

Blackie: Hi, I'm Blackie and I play guitar. But sometimes I'm known by my evil voyeur name, Sneekapeekachu. Or you can call me El Jefe. Or just yell "Hey, pervert!" Also, waving a bottle of Jack Daniels will get my attention, probably the quickest.

Kayce: Kayce... AKA Vampirella. Or Elvetta (the female Elvis), mainly because I shake a lot. I can't help it - our music is so loud and sexy... it makes you gyrate in the pelvic zone. When I'm singing, I can look out in the crowd and see guys and girls licking their lips and making naughty gestures... And when I do the splits, everybody screams - especially if I'm on the bar!

Rog: How about a shamelessly revealing rundown of The Blue Flames' fearsome formation and harried history to date?!

Blackie: A friend of ours named Brooks Tuttle died, and we got asked to do a show at his wake. So we did it and realized it was really cool, and figuring we could break out of the wake circuit - off we went. We went through more drummers than Spinal Tap before we found Rod. Billy Keith Leatherwood (Mood Swings, Graceland); Terry Graham (Gun Club, Alice's Bag Band); Hank (the Stingrays)... these are only the ones we remember! It was crazy. They'd come in and everything would seem great - then they'd go insane, or disappear or get snatched by aliens. Judy Hill of Psalm 69 played with us in town and contributed rhythm guitar on our upcoming CD.

Kayce: I had been so discouraged by the music over the past few years - it worse than sucked - it was milk toast. Then I went to see a farewell gig by Lithium X-mas [a local band I had somehow missed] with our first drummer, Billy Keith Leatherwood. The lead singer, KY Boys, was so theatrical and did lots of costume changes and pelted the crowd HARD with giant wild sunflowers - wow! She's our friend and "confidential advisor" now. Yeah - Lithium's bass player, Mark Ridlen, produced our CD - what a genius! That night changed my life. I had a new religion in music.

Rog: Certain members of this badass band of thunderin' rock'n'roll thugs have illustriously colorful pasts! Blackie - weren't you a featured participant in the raucously roarin' Phantom Rockers who contributed a divine track on Cargo's cacophonous psychobilly comp, "Hotter Than Hell!!"?

Blackie: I was in the famous and infamous Phantom Rockers - we toured the U.S. last summer. Those Limeys rock their balls off - but they must have their tea and biscuits like proper ladies. That was the end after touring, cause I can't do anything simultaneously, and The Blue Flames came first. I can be the boss - and I really love telling people what to do. I also had a short stint (rehearsals only) with the Nervebeakers, that li'l old band from Texas. I never thought they would go anywhere, but that shows you how smart I am. They opened for the Sex Pistols at the Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas. My most notable band was Cringe, with Suzi Mustang. One night we all came to the gig wounded. Suzi had a knife cut from playing mumblety-peg with her crazed punk rock beau, Bobby Sox of Stickmen With Rayguns (he lives in the bushes behind Taco Cabana now). I'd wrecked my motorcycle on the freeway - and we always had to help Chuck'ee onto his drum stool. His wounds were self-inflicted from booze. But we went on in a pool of blood - opening for the Red Rockers at the Hot Klub. I also played with the Projectors with a little sex kitten who screamed kinda on key and who went out with Joan Jett. The rest is a blurrrrrrr.

Rog: Kayce, didn't you accurately portray the curvaceously spectacular queen of the kittenish vixens, Betty Page, a couple of years ago in an underground indie flick?! Please tell all, and eagerly include any relevant info regarding various side projects any of you are currently affiliated with.

Kayce: I went to New York in '98 after being depicted in the magazine "Beyond" as a modern day Betty Page - I didn't realize how famous she was (I thought I looked like Emma Peel from "The Avengers."). From that I got a part in a B-movie about Betty. During the shoot I was left on the floor freezing, gagged and bound with a black ball gag during rewrites. It seemed like hours! But the most titillating moment was meeting John Waters. What a seedy set. I got to wear authentic '50s lingerie and get spanked on a regular basis. The film was mentioned on the "Howard Stern Show" and "ET," and showed at the Cannes Film Festival. Then Betty's brother got an injunction against the film and unfortunately it stopped everything.

Rog: Nestled within your tumultuously titillating tunes, I detect a cacophonous cornucopia of psychobilly / swamp-punk / S&M-induced aurally infectious influences; whether it be The Cramps and 45 Grave ("Bad Li'l Girl," "Satan Baby"), The Stooges ("Bad Indian"), Johnny Cash and X ("Fire of Love," "Johnny Voodoo"), and The Damned (a Damnified version of "White Rabbit"). Also, you open your belligerently lip-smackin' set with a rowdy'n'rousin' rendition of The Stooges' "1969"! Sooo... what's the one defining musical moment which got ya hooked on this auditory drug known the world over as rock-and-fuckin'-roll? Also, please provide an ever-lasting listing of all of your reckless audial influences and mayhemic musical mentors....

Kayce: I had my first wet dream at 11 years old over the King - Elvis was definitely an influence (but Blackie runs a close race as far as sex appeal!). Others include the Cramps (especially Ivy), early '60s garage bands, Eric Burdon and the Animals (those boys were love merchants for sure!). I know all those guys hugely influenced Iggy, The Damned, Patti Smith, etc... Gun Club is truly one of my most deepseed loved ones. Their bag of tricks came only from "old blues" guys, according to our second drummer, Terry Graham. He played drums for the Gun Club, and he had some great stories from the early punk rock days in LA He played with Patricia Morrison who is now in the Damned and married to Dave Vanian. Terry got us backstage and we all teased each other with a kitten and overt posing and rock sexual overtones. We were asked to open for them at their next Dallas show, but they haven't been back.

Blackie: I've always played guitar, like since I was six fucking years old. I've never wanted to do anything else. As far as influences - X and The Cramps definitely; plus the Pistols, the Clash, the Damned, Patti Smith, the Dolls, Bowie, especially Marrianne Faithfull - and too much porn.

Rog: In your humble, yet inspiring, opinion - who's the all-time forever-reigning King and Queen of rock'n'roll? (By the way, Little Richard, if chosen, would obviously be categorized as a Queen... hahahaheeheeho... Shut up, Rog!...)

Kayce: The reigning King is still King Elvis, and the Queen is Wanda Jackson. Then more recently, Sid Vicious and Patti Smith.

Blackie: Sidney will never be deposed as the most influential - what a fucked up phenomenal phenomenon to everybody here. The King... the King. And then there's Patricia, hairy armpits and all... when she sings I get hard. SHE'S the King - all hail Patti Smith. Tha rock'n'roller, pissin' in the river kind a' girl...

Rog: A difficult, thought-provokin' tuffy: Which recorded release of the past 50 years is your all-time favorite musical marvel which aurally excels above all of the rest (including, but definitely not limited to; soundtracks, "greatest hits" packages and/or "various artist" comps), and what's the rudimentary reason behind your ear-churning choice?! Explain yourself until you're breathlessly flustered, folks...

Kayce: Every Cramps song, Johnny Cash's Greatest Hits, The Blasters' "Dark Night" on the "From Dusk 'Til Dawn" soundtrack, Eric Burdon and the Animals, all Patsy Cline, "Blame the Whiskey" by American Fuse on the "Start Your Engines" compilation from Side One Dummy. "The Pride of Texas" by the Flametrick Subs is on the same comp, and you can hear us as well. "Bad Li'l Girls" is our track, and we did a killer, and extremely twisted, video for it. We suggest strict parental guidance on this one (Promote, promote! Very subtle!). And "Witch" by the Sonics!

Blackie: Not to belabor the point, but Patti Smith's voice gets me all worked up into a sweaty mess. The number one pick for me would have to be Patti Smith, "Radio Ethiopia."

Rog: What provocative portion of the human anatomy do ya find most tastily titillating and erotically sensuous? By all means, be graphically specific.

Kayce: Good buttocks and necks. Hard buns are such a great ass-set. Not flat, saggy, or hairy... I advise everyone to shave the slightest fuzz. Necks are so soft - you can whisper naughty things and give your guy chills by exhaling as you just touch his neck with your lips, and then... give him just the tiniest little bite... he shivered as her teeth nipped his sensitive flesh. She gasped and pressed her yearning flesh against his masculine length... he moved to take her mouth with a demanding thrust of his tongue, teasing her with pleasure so unbearable she thought there could be none grea - Ummh - where was I? Oh yeah... Necks! Necks are good!

Blackie: Well, I personally like the dark-haired, biochested, kinky lookin' Bettye Page types. But as for a specific anatomical part, I'd have to say I'm definitely an up-the-skirt kind of guy! Very short skirts, given my predilection for voyeurism.

Rog: Since death is an ominously ever-present eventuality, which of these worst case scenarios of an untimely demise would be most torturously devastating to you? Clumsily falling into the pit of an active volcano and burning to a charbroiled crisp; being smashed into a pulverized mess of a flat-as-a-pancake flesh by a careening-out-of-control satellite which swooshes from the sky and crashes through your rooftop; having the morose misfortune of Rosie O'Donell sittin' on your face and causing you to suffocate in a squishy, smothering swirl of blubberly flab; or frantically falling from an approaching aircraft in Seattle and becoming precariously impaled on the razor-sharp point of the skyward-bound Space Needle (Wow - talk about extreme body piercing!)?! Also - if given a choice, what method of breathlessly leaping headfirst into the precpitable void of death would you find most adequately preferable? For example, I'd like to depart this mortal coil in a blaze of glory by ridin' a rapidly falling A-bomb like a rodeo bull (i.e. Slim Pickens in "Dr. Strangelove") to its final point of final point of explosive impact at Ground Zero, Planet Earth - yeeeeefuckin' haw, indeed!

Kayce: Dying by falling into a volcano - burning can't be very positive. Besides - I'm no virgin! If I had to go, it would be in my built-for-speed '66 hot rod Ford Mustang... out cat-and-mousing the cops until they were pissed off to the extreme, and just as they thought they were going to catch me - make it look as if I were the victim of the "Gestapo Tactic" (which HAS happened to me). Then I'd make my break, and crash in a ball of flame into a billboard that said, "Dr. Pepper - The Quicker Pepper-Upper". I just love Dr. Pepper!

Blackie: Rosie O'Donell sitting on my face is too scary to even think about. I can't believe you even brought that up, damn you! I'm going to have nightmares! If I had a preference, I'd like to go out with a cerebral hemorrhage induced by a night of indescribably wild sex! Everything - everywhere - all at once!

Rog: Any craftily conjured closing comments? Enlighten us about the aural inducements of Big D... what most makes it your hootenanny of a home? Also, what are your grand musical aspirations for the ever rapidly approaching future?

Kayce: We live in the most incredible place for sideways influences, like "cow" and "punk." Was that ever supposed to go together?  The Flames will continue to have a Texas-size flamboyance, undercurrents of rage, and outright wild love in strange places. It's thrown out in the air and gets in your veins. It makes you wiggle in your panties, throw your head back, and let out a holler! If The Blue Flames don't make you don't make you want to howl, then I have failed - and I'd NEVER do THAT!!! Kisses... Kisses...

Blackie: We're laying the groundwork for our next music video, and short tours on the West Coast and the Chicago and Midwest. We're happy to talk to record companies, or anyone who'd like to sponsor us (I'd like to make it clear that we have absolutely no objection to drinking ANY kind of beer). In the future, I predict that people will chase us through the streets, screaming and yelling and waving their underwear at us!