FANS (1 of 2 or 3)

On Oscar night I listened to the best bootleg tape ever, "The Shit Hits the Fans" by the Replacements. I planned to give a hybrid Oscar report/song-by-song recap of this classic Replacements show during commercials. Unfortunately, the Oscars sucked so bad that I fell asleep.

Neverthless, 'The Shit Hits the Fans' is golden. This is the best proof we have that rock and roll is abstract, and all-encompassing.

i'll have to finish this up later, but for now here's the first part of a song-by-song review. I've egotistically peppered it with sad second-run observations about celebrity I gleaned from watching the Oscars. If you want timeliness, buy a newspaper. At StinkRock, we sleep late or not at all.

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Ok, enough crap. Readers of this space know I like two things: awards shows and The Replacements. For weeks now I’ve been meaning to write about ‘The Shit Hits The Fans’, the bootleg tape snatched from a fan at the show in question, and released in a limited quantity somewheres at a point where the Replacements were clearly the best, most entertaining rock-and-roll band of all time.

And I will write about it! But it’s Oscar night, and I’m an awards show apologist/starfucker, so I gotta cover Oscar night too. So here’s the plan: I’ll cover the Oscars, and during commercials, I’ll run the tracklist of ‘Shit Hits the Fans’.

Here’s the problem: I taped the Oscars. It’s 11pm as I’m starting this. And I have to start with the Oscars pre-roll, b/c that’s the only time the pretty actresses smile. Once inside, they’re just cleaning/gnashing teeth. So to do this all, I have to…but, wait, at work tomorrow… ah, who cares. No one reads this, and I own mouthwash. Let’s go.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 1:

‘Lawdy Miss Clawdy’

Guys in denim tuxedos around the mall-world have all seen bar bands crumple into a half-assed blues jam. In the Midwest, it makes the beer taste better. But here, something doesn’t sit right: The bar band in question (the Replacements) have just put out the BEST RECORD OF ALL TIME (Let it Be) and are opening with a half-assed blues jam? This band is clearly trashed.

Shit Hits the Fans starts with a fade-in onto this track. If I walked into this bar on this night and heard this song and saw how drunk the band was, I’d leave. Thank Alice Cooper (or god, if there is one) that our taper didn’t.

11:10 p.m.

Amy Adams, Best Supporting Actress Nominee from Junebug (a pretty good movie) just hit the carpet. ABC asks her if she’s an optimist! she says she’s a pragmatist! My take: if an ex-Hooter’s waitress wins an award on a Disney channel, I’ll cut my wrists open. (ed. note: she lost.)

11:17 p.m.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 2:

‘Sleeping Nights of Jesus’

This is a standard Replacements cover orginally recorded by...Robyn Hitchcock? Google, you're fucking kidding me. Anyway, they play it pretty well, and for pretty long, but from a birds-eye view they’re rapidly making the point that they’re here to drink and suck time for their set length.

Paul Westerberg Made Up Lyric: ‘alcohol poisoning in the toilet of my choice’. It’s ugly, and it’s getting uglier. (jee-zum crow, I hope that's a made-up lyric.)

11:25. Dolly Parton! She’s talking like my great grandmother the one time I met her in 1982. She was 92 at the time. Dolly Parton weighs 92 right now, and the breasts weigh at least 44. She gets a big hand. I can only assume that all of Hollywood is on glass.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 3:

‘Lovelines’

The first original of the night is a throwaway from Hootenanny, the throwaway album that sent rock critics burrowing into garbage cans (NY Times #1 album of 1983.) Paul doesn’t sell it like he does on the record, but if you happened to walk into the bar during this song, your girl would’ve started dancing right away, and you’d make it a night. This is a nice and slow hip-shaker.

11:33 p.m.

Paul Giamatti’s baldness is much worse than mine, and he just called boxers ‘crazy and smart’. Wow! I hope he wins!

11:38 p.m. Michelle Williams (brokeback mountain) is dressed like a cheddar ripple pringle chip, and I don't know if that's ever been made, but I’m hungry.

11:40 p.m. Phillip Seymour Hoffman will win tonight for Capote, it’s obvious. Yesterday at the Independent Spriit Awards, he had a kickass beard, and tonight it’s gone. Dude! When you win the Oscar you get laid regardless! You asshole! Back to the mats!

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 4:

‘I’ll Be There’

Here’s where this show starts becoming legendary. If you walked into the bar with your girl during the last song like I told you to, then she just handed you $5 for the first round during this classic Jacksons cover. And in this particular bar, that buys like a six pack of Old Milwaukee and change for pinball.

This is a standard cover for the Mats , and they butcher it, but they get all the way through it, and that’s how you know Paul cares. Or maybe it’s the goofy way Paul ends the song by announcing ‘We’re The Surfaces, from Chicago!’

11:50 p.m.

George Clooney says he’ll be ‘the drunk in the back’. The witless ABC host says ‘Perfect!’ Holy shit. Clooney is Paul Westerberg! Is this happening? (ed. note: it isn't.)

11:52 p.m. ABC Red Carpet Lipstick Girl: “You…made…us…fall…in love with a pimp!” If Terence Howard punches her out right now and gets arrested, I’d sell my heart lungs and kidney to bail him out. Unfortunately, the best actor Oscar usually goes to a guy who looks like he’s not hating every moment of the Oscars.

11:57 p.m. Matt Dillon throws ‘racist cop’ and ‘toxic bile’ into his red carpet interview. Rock. I didn’t like ‘Crash’, but Matt’s publicist is clearly drunk at some neighborhood corner bar giving body shots to bikers during Matt's interview.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 5:

‘Sixteen Blue’

When I was 22, I took a bus from NYC to Old Bridge, NJ to see a couple bands. It had snowed pretty badly the night before. The bus left me and my gf on a highway, and we walked a couple blocks to the club. It’s a long ride.

The bands were good (Buffalo Tom and Walt Mink), but I had a deathgrip on that bus schedule; we had to get back. As BT was heading back to the stage for their first encore, I checked my watch and steered my gf back to the bus stop on this lonely highway in 15 degree weather. We waited for 15-20 minutes and my gf started losing feeling in her toes. The bus finally comes and almost barrels past us; somehow one of the other 3-4 people waiting gets the driver’s attention.

As we’re loading on, two guys run up at the last second and make the bus. They end up sitting opposite me, high five each other for making the bus, they catch their breath, get their heads, and then one of them spouts “that was the best encore ever! And we made the bus!”

Somehow, I think of this story when I hear the Shit/Fans version of Sixteen Blue.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 6:

‘Can’t Hardly Wait’

Lyrics aren’t done yet and/or fudged on purpose. But didn’t these guys just play Jackson 5? This sounds awesome.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 7:

‘I Will Dare’

Nothing special, but it’s still the first song on the best album of all time. Just makes me smile.

12:57 a.m. Ok, Ben Stiller showed up, and I just realized what a bad idea this was. No more oscars.

THE SHIT HITS THE FANS, TRACK 8:

‘I Hear You Been To College’

(And my iPod just died on me. Well, this seems like a good time to take a break.)