The late, great Roky Erickson saw dead people. He also saw zombies, vampires, demons, Lucifer, two-headed dogs, a creature with an atomic brain, alligators, and Sputnik. For all I know he saw unicorns too, but if so he didn’t tell anybody.
The former 13th Floor Elevators frontman was both a survivor and a hero; he struggled with mental illness for over 50 years, but never let it defeat him. He was forced to undergo electro-convulsive therapy, had thorazine shoved down his throat, and lived to tell the tale. Anybody who suffers from mental illness or knows someone who does understands just what a hard road he traveled. The man had spirit.
Given this back story, it can be difficult to distinguish Roky’s mental illness from his love of Grade B horror and science fiction movies, especially on 1981’s The Evil One, a veritable parade of all of the beasties, ghastlies, and ghoulies enumerated above. Produced by Creedence Clearwater Revival bassist Stu Cook (who played on two cuts), The Evil One’s songs are surprisingly catchy, mainstream even–take away the Halloween themes and dress ‘em up a little, and many of these songs would have sounded right at home on FM radio.
The songs on The Evil One stick with you–listen to the LP a couple of times and you’ll be able to hum along to most of ‘em. You may know all of the lyrics too. Erickson had a lot in common with Blue Öyster Cult, who also mated surprisingly melodic rock ’n’ roll with outré subject matter: Godzilla, extraterrestrials, Nazi fighter jets, flaming telepaths, and I think you get the idea.
Most of the tunes on The Evil One are straight-up garagabilly, but Erickson’s doesn’t stop there. “I Walked with a Zombie” has a shockingly Motown feel. “I Think of Demons,” “White Faces,” “Mine Mine Mind,” and “Click Your Fingers Applauding the Play” could be Nils Lofgren, Graham Parker, or even Warren Zevon songs. (A couple of tunes on 1986’s Don’t Slander Me owe their all to Buddy Holly and Little Richard, but that’s a different story.) But Roky always put his unique stamp on his material, and such greats as “Two-Headed Dog (Red Temple Prayer),” “Creature with the Atom Brain,” and “Don’t Shake Me Lucifer” could only have come from the musical imagination of Roky Erickson.
My personal faves on The Evil One include “I Walked with a Zombie,” which brilliantly juxtaposes brain-eating lyrics with a tender boy-meets-girl melody; the demonic shake, rattle and roll of “Don’t Shake Me Lucifer”; the classical simplicity of “Creature with the Atom Brain”; the almost New Wave feel of “If You Have Ghosts”; and the fun house rat-a-tat-tat of “Night of the Vampire.”
Roky’s Werewolf in Austin vocals set him apart from the pack; he was a soul possessed, a mutant Hank Williams howlin’ at the moon. His rabid snarl on “Don’t Shake Me Lucifer” and “If You Have Ghosts” will make you dial Animal Control; on songs like “Creature with the Atom Brain” and “I Walked with Zombie” he reminds me of the Maryland boonie boys I used to work alongside at the hardware and foundry in my rural hometown, after they’d downed a couple of boilermakers. And while he doesn’t demonstrate it on The Evil One, Roky also had his soft side; on such songs as “Realize Your Mind” off Don’t Slander Me, he practically croons.
Roky Erickson lived at the edge, and his music is outsider art at its best. He didn’t just think of demons, he wrestled with them, and toughed it out long enough to forge a strikingly unique body of work. Roky stared into the abyss and the abyss stared back, but in the end the abyss lost. Roky walked with zombies, and music lovers will still be listening to him when the zombie apocalypse comes along for real.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
