Whoever does sound in the afterlife is busy ordering backup mikes and stands: the great Lux Interior of the Cramps passed away earlier this week due to a heart condition. The band hadn’t performed since November 2006, which means their around-Halloween show I caught at the Vic that year was among his last. As always, Lux’s performance met that standard easily with its top-form speaker stack climbing, floor-writhing, mike-fellating and pants-challenging.
Like the Ramones, the Cramps perfectly resonated the dark side of golden-era pop, producing a liberating blast of pure freedom and abandon out of the firmament of rock and roll. Since freedom – and the responsibility it implies – scares the shit out of most people, one might say the Cramps had a “cult” following. But I’d say the people who left themselves out of the band’s horror-freakshow were the ones in the cult – and the ones today being deprogrammed daily by the steady destruction of the record business, Wall Street, Main Street and US Empire. Ooh! Eee! Ah! Ah!