On the surface it might seem like The Monster Club and Halloween Shindig would go hand in hand; a horror anthology starring such genre vets as Vincent Price, John Carradine, Donald Pleasence and Britt Ekland, that has tons of fun monsters and masks plus numerous monster related musical numbers? It’s a no brainer, right?
And it’s true, we love The Monster Club. It’s kinda like Night Train to Terror, only it’s coherent and cuts back to different and actual songs. It has a fun premise, with 3 solid monster vignettes and a spooky, synthy score.
So what’s the problem? Where’s the “but” that has kept this blog for talking about it for 7 years now?
That, dear readers, is my own prejudice against those same monster related songs. I kinda hate them. I don’t want to, but I kinda do. I want to love them. I want to include them all and have wanted to since the beginning. But I’m just not a huge fan.
I’ve tried, over the years, to warm up to them but the love just never seems to flows out of me. They have this late 70’s/early 80’s British new wave, pseudo-reggae, Clash meets The Police vibe that neither suits the movie, the songs or me, despite their monstrous leanings.
Because I think it needs to be represented and because I do quite enjoy the film, Halloween Shindig has decided to include the tune I’ve warmed up to the most. Performed on camera by The Pretty Things, it also happens to be (perhaps not so incidentally) the film’s Title Track.
After discussing over 30 different Title Tracks across 6 or so hours on the podcast, how did we not mention this one? Well, as we noted, there’s a mountain of Title Tracks and we had to keep some in our pocket, no? Leave a few surprises for the blog still, right? And we may even have a few more up our sleeve this year.
Additionally, this seemed like an appropriate way to kick off the season and usher in a monster block of Monster Songs, which have been sorely under represented as of late.
Lead in here with Vincent Price’s overly long (and overly awesome) laundry list of solid reasons the Human Race deserves to be represented in a club full of horrible monsters.
A Nightmare On My Street (Extended Mix)by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince
I think it’s a testament to Freddy’s legacy and iconography that this Monster Rap is more well known than the Referentially Inclusive (and wildly superior) song by The Fat Boys. Seems more people are familiar with Freddy as a pop culture window cling than they are with the films themselves.
That’s not to say I don’t enjoy A Nightmare On My Street. Quite the contrary! I think it’s a great Monster Rap, and all the more so that the song is its own entity outside of the films. But when comparing the 2, I feel it is the clear also-ran, and i wish Are You Ready For Freddy was the more popular cut.
But here we have the DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Princedetailing an evening in which they take to the cinema with Ready Rock C and some honeys. There, they enjoy a new (and generic) Elm Street film, only to find themselves tormented by Freddy in the real world once the film ends. Shades of New Nightmare, or simply imagery from the original? Only Wes Craven knows for sure.
Though recorded in ’87, this single was released in August of ’88, right when Elm Street 4: The Dream Master was about to hit theaters. And while it’s more probable the the trio was seeing Dream Warriorsat that time, the song seems similar in tone and even references Freddy’s Revenge. So who knows which Elm Street they did in fact see that night. Either way, it was def.
Speaking of The Dream Master, the producers actually considered including this song on the soundtrack, but ultimately could not come to an agreement with Misters Jeff & Fresh. New Line decided instead to just sue Jive/RCA Records for copyright infringement. How’s that for a 180? Apparently there was a music video that was pulled from MTV as a result. Bet that was pretty def too. Unfortunately, that video seems to be lost forever, as it has yet to resurface on the Internet. It’ll be a pretty def day when someone find some forgotten copy and posts it.
Adding more intrigue to the mix, there’s even a handful of different versions of this track. The original LP and cassette version ran over 6 minutes long and contained some different lyrics. Now, a 6 minute rap song about a popular horror icon just won’t do for radio play, and the song was not simply trimmed, but altered somewhat. For reals?
Yep, that version we’ve all been listening to for the last 30 years ain’t the original. But, since the Shindig rolls hard on such matters, it has included the original 6 minute LP version for your enjoyment.
What revelations are to be found in this uncut version? Well for one, The Fresh Prince mentions Nancy, and while that could also refer to Dream Warriors, in context It seems more referential to the original. And while the extended lyric of “something about Elm Street was the movie we saw” is more ambiguous than him stating simply (but also a bit ambiguously) “we saw Elm Street,” I think it suggests they indeed done rushed a screening of Wes Craven’s 1984 classic.
What else is revealed? Welp, perhaps most strangely is that a rather innocuous original line about grabbing something cool to quench his thirst was replaced by a completely unnecessary product drop for Coke.
Now, I’ve read about fans being upset about this, but I’m not convinced its the nefarious product placement it may seem.
I guess if you need to shorten the song, the whole bit about coming downstairs, being alone but seeing the TV on is a little expository, so its a good spot for some revision. Moreover, the replacement of “remote” with “coke” actually alleviates the initial false rhyme with choked. It’s not great, but its an improvement.
Is it the marketing arm of Jive records stepping in and forcing a commercial? Naw, probably not, but I will admit, it is a little suspect. But mostly the omitted lyrics just add a little color, honestly. Just some more depth of descriptions to the events.
Because I couldn’t find one online (read: because no sane person really gives a shit or wastes their time on such nonsense) I’ve composed a comparison of the 2 versions for other dorks to look at and find interesting for a half a second.
Lyrics featured in both verisons will be in normal text color.
Lyrics specific to the Single version will be in green.
Lyrics specific to original Extended Mix will be in orange.
[Fresh Prince:]
Now I have a story that I’d like to tell
About this guy you all know him, he had me scared as hell!
He comes to me at night after I crawl into bed
He’s burnt up like a weenie and his name is Fred!
He wears the same hat and sweater every single day
And even if it’s hot, outside he wears it anyway!
He’s gone when I’m awake but he shows up when I’m asleep
I can’t believe that there’s a nightmare – on my street!
It was a Saturday evening if I remember it right
And we had just gotten back off tour last night
So the gang and I thought that it would be groovy
If we summoned up the posse and done rushed the movies
I got Angie, Jeff got Tina
Ready Rock got some girl I’d never seen in my life
That was all right because the lady was chill
Then we dipped to the theater set to ill
[Fresh Prince single:]
We saw Elm Street
And man, it was def!
Buggin! Cold havin a ball
And somethin bout Elm Street was the movie we saw
The way it started was decent, ya know nothing real fancy
Bout this homeboy named Fred and this girl named Nancy
But word, when it was over, I said, “Yo! That was def!”
And everything seemed all right when we left
But when I got home and laid down to sleep
That began the nightmare, on my street!
It was burnin in my room like an oven
My bed soaked with sweat, and man, I was buggin
I checked the clock and it stopped at 12:30
It had melted it was so darn hot, and I was thirsty
I went downstairs to grab some juice or a coke
Flipped the TV off, and then I almost choked
I wanted something cool, to quench my thirst
I thought to myself, “Yo, this heat is the worst!”
But when I got downstairs, I noticed something was wrong
I was home all alone but the TV was on!
I thought nothin of it as I grabbed the remote
I pushed the power button, and
then I almost choked
When I heard this awful voice comin from behind
It said, “You cut off ‘Heavy Metal’ and now you must die!”
Man, I ain’t even wait to see who it was
Broke outside in my drawers and screamed, “So long, cuz!”
Got halfway up the block I calmed down and stopped screamin
Then thought, “Oh, I get it, I must be dreamin”
I strolled back home with a grin on my grill
I figured since this is a dream I might as well get ill
I walked in the house, the Big Bad Fresh Prince
But Freddy killed all that noise real quick
He grabbed me by my neck and said, “Here’s what we’ll do.
We gotta lotta work here, me and you.
The souls of your friends you and I will claim.
You’ve got the body, and I’ve got the brain.”
I said, “Yo Fred, I think you’ve got me all wrong.
I ain’t partners with nobody with nails that long!
Look, I’ll be honest man, this team won’t work.
The girls won’t be on you, Fred your face is all burnt!”
Fred got mad and his head started steamin
But I thought what the hell, I’m only dreamin
I said, “Please leave Fred, so I can get some sleep;
Or gimme a call, and maybe we’ll hang out next week.”
I patted him on the shoulder said, “Thanks for stopping by.”
Then I opened up the door and said, “Take care guy!”
He got mad, drew back his arm, and slashed my shirt
I laughed at first, then thought, “Hold up, that hurt!”
It wasn’t a dream, man, this guy was for real
I said, “Freddy, uh, pal, there’s been an awful mistake here.”
No further words and then I darted upstairs
Crashed through my door then jumped on my bed
Pulled the covers up over my head
And said, “Oh please do somethin with Fred!”
He jumped on my bed, went through the covers with his claws
Tried to get me, but my alarm went off
And then silence! It was a whole new day
I thought, “Huh, I wasn’t scared of him anyway.”
Until I noticed those rips in my sheets
And that was proof that there had been a nightmare, on my street
Oh man, I gotta call Jeff, I gotta call Jeff
Come on, come on
Come on Jeff, answer
Come on, man
[Jazzy Jeff] Hello?
[Fresh Prince] Jeff, this is Prince, man
Jeff, wake up,
Jeff, wake up
[Jazzy Jeff:] What do you want?
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff, wake up, man, listen to me, Jeff
[Jazzy Jeff:] It’s three o’clock in the mornin, what do you want?
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff, Jeff, would you listen to me?
Listen, whatever you do, don’t fall asleep
[Jazzy Jeff:] Man!
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff, listen to me, don’t go to sleep, Jeff
[JJ:] Look, look, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I’m going to bed
[Freddy:] RRAHHHH!
[JJ:] Ahhhhhh!
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff! Jeff!
[Freddy:] Ha ha ha ha ha haaaa!
[Jazzy Jeff:] Ahhhhhh!
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff!
[Freddy:] RRAHHHH!
[Fresh Prince:] Jeff! Answer me, Jeff!
[Freddy:] I’m your D.J. now, Princey!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaa!
So there you have it. Far too much copy regarding a silly novelty song about Freddy Krueger. But, I’m not sure The Shindig would have it any other way. Enjoy the extended version of A Nightmare On My Street.
Here’s some certified, all-American, 80-proof ridiculous bullshit from the incomprehensibly titled Freddy’s Greatest Hits.
Greatest Hits? Why, that suggests a larger body of work cultivated and condensed into only “the tracks you wanna hear,” no?
First of all, Freddy doesn’t have any other albums. This is it, folks.
Secondly, even if there were several albums, are these the choice cuts? Are these just the “tracks you wanna hear?” Probably not. They’re the tracks I wanna hear, no doubt, but I don’t speak for anyone else, much less everyone else.
Perhaps there were other Freddy songs. Maybe they had 3 albums worth and just decided these were the best, and released it as a Greatest Hits to spare everyone. If that’s the case, then fuck gang, what did those other songs sound like?
These greatest of hits encompass mostly cheese-ball covers of songs that feature the word “Dream” while Freddy cackles randomly around the melody. However, there are a few original cuts, like this number – perhaps the collection’s most unfathomable offering.
The “Do The Freddy” sticker from my toolbox at work. It’s pretty great.
What is this shit? Do the Freddy? He’s got a fucking dance now? Are you kidding me? This shit is out of control.
Nowadays, whenever I hear that people find it impossible to be scared of this character, I completely understand, and it’s because of shit like this.
Once a master of fear in the hearts of children the world over, Freddy is here reduced to a few dance moves. And not even good ones! Behold…
Pick your feet up
swing your arms up too
Move you head both ways
like you see him do
Then jump 3 feet to the swinging beat
Of The Freddy
What? What kind of fucking dance is this? I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be doing really. And the weirdest part (as you may have thought to yourself) is clearly the “move you head” instruction.
What, exactly, does moving your head both ways actually look like? Is it just shaking your head? Turning and looking in either direction like your crossing a street? It’s too vague.
Moreover, is this Freddy’s signature move? Not “claw at the air” or “scrape your blades on the wall.” Nope, it’s moving your head both ways. Ya know, that thing everyone probably does several times a day. That’s it. That’s Freddy’s big move. You could have written a more appropriate, or hell, even a slightly less vague line with roughly 2 minutes worth of thought.
Also, I think it’s important to note that no one listening to this song has a 3 foot vertical. Fuck, Michael Jordan had a 46 incher, and he’s one of the greatest dunkers of all time.
To put a more comparative and current prospective on it, Russell Westbrook has a 36.5 inch vertical. He can barely complete this dance. And Kevin Durant, at a paltry 33.5″, can’t Do The Freddy at all.
I’d ask “Just who the hell is this for, exactly,” but as you’ll soon hear Mr. Robert England proclaim straight away – “this is for you.”
So, there’s that. Enjoy this song, because it’s for you.
As we’ve often said here on The Shindig, it seemed like everything and everyone was rapping in the late 80’s. If you wanted to lame something up real quick, you made a fuckin’ rap.
Which is apparently exactly what composer Joe Renzetti and songwriter Simon Stokes did in 1988 for Child’s Play. Only problem was that someone above their pay grade said “Yeah, I dunno about this bullshit, fellas.” And like that, the The Chucky Song was shelved.
Now, while that person may have had half a brain, they were also a goddamn communist. How the fuck do you axe this track? In 1988? As a Sweet Song playing over the end credits? I mean, I understand why maybe it makes some logical sense, if you’re attempting to keep up the appearance of a legitimate horror film, but c’mon. This shit is gold, and not just because it’s ridiculous. I mean, it is, but all playing aside, this is a legit song, and not a half bad one.
Sure it’s goofy, but it’s catchy as shit and the lyrical content is on point. There’s tons of direct references, Good Guy Doll phrases, a Chucky voice, kids singing, and they even toss in Charles Lee Ray’s voodoo chant. C’mon! There’s a lot of bad monster raps out there, and this definitely isn’t one of them.
As such, I’m stoked (pun firmly intended) that this escaped. I don’t know how, why, or who’s responsible for this ultimately seeing the light of day, by they deserve the goddamn Noble Peace Prize.
This could easily have never graced the public’s ears. Or worse yet, we could have quiet rumors of it’s existence with no actual proof. But we are a fortunate people, and for that we bestow upon it the highest of honors we can…a spot on The Shindig.
When it comes to Monster Raps, I’m a huge fan. A legitimate fan. I legitimately like these songs.
That’s not to say I don’t see why they’re ridiculous. But I like them. I bump them in my car. In a lot of cases, they’re actually good songs.
I can not say the same for this particular Monster Rap.
Don’t get me wrong, I love The Leprechaun. I love Warwick Davis. I have the box set. Vegas is awesome. Space is fun as well. Leprechaun in the Hood is a particular joy, and even Back 2 the Hood has its moments. But Lep In The Hood is not a good song.
I enjoy it. I love that it exists. It’s hands-down playlist material, but it’s a bad song, to be sure.
It could have been good too; with a better beat, some more inspired lyrics and a little more commitment than the halfassery on display here, this could have been a great Monster Rap.
But I’m not one to stare a gift horse in the mouth, and any Warwick Davis rapping as the Leprechaun is better than no Warwick Davis rapping as the Leprechaun, so hats off to the producers on that account.
Thank you for giving this to the World, even if the World doesn’t really appreciate it.
We’re gonna gonna keep the Monster Rap train rolling here for a bit with a Monster Rap performed by an actual Monster, Rockula.
This (essentially) 80’s Monster Comedy gets a little extra love from The Shindig for:
A.) Starring Francis “Chainsaw” Gremp, Dean Cameron.
B.) Taking place on Halloween and
C.) Featuring lots of music for use on the playlist.
Our next selection, perhaps the most sweaty of Rockula’s catalog, is his attempt to do what everyone was doing in at the in 1989…bust a rhyme.
It’s not as bad as you might think. It’s certainly not great, but it’s all in jest and there’s some funny lyrics, which is more than I can say for,…well it’s coming up at #203.
So, before you curse us for posting perhaps the worst Monster Rap in existence, give it a track or two before making any snap decisions.
Yeah, I think it’s gonna be another one of those funky ones…
Ghostbusters 2, the definitive statement on Monster Raps, continues its genre dominance here with perhaps its most popular track, Bobby Brown’sOn Our Own.
Featured during a montage of the GBs kicking it into gear and revving up for a final showdown with Vigo the Carpathian.
Total side note here, but if you’ve never heard the skinny on Vigo’s painting, definitely check this out.
This track’s especially relevant in that Bobby Brown actually has a cameo in the film! His excitement at seeing the Ghostbusters emerge from ECTO-1a is a great moment. He asks Egon and Ray if he can get a proton pack for his little brother. Naturally, Egon flat out rejects this ludicrous proposal, while Ray halfheartedly agrees.
“I guess he’s right.” Ray responds.
You guess? Really Ray?
Am I to believe that if Egon hadn’t been there, then Ray would have seriously considered giving Bobby fucking Brown a proton pack? For his kid brother, no less?
I’m not sure if Ray should be allowed to handle such dangerous equipment if he doesn’t know well enough not to just hand it over to random citizens, or fucking children. Maybe dickless Peck was right all along.
Bobby Brown gets in on the action all the same, proton pack or not, serving up a Ghostbusters jam to beat all. Yeah, yeah, you know it.
V. Ice, as the horror-core iteration of Robert Van Winkle (aka Vanilla Ice) refers to himself, was actually born on Halloween. October 31st 1967, to be precise. That’s pretty awesome as far as The Shindig is concerned. What’s more? He cut a referential Halloween track about it.
Double bonus.
Depending on your perspective that is.
From The Shindig’s perspective, it’s an all around winner. First and foremost, its a Referential Halloween Monster Rap. That’s pretty special. Referential Halloween tracks are a rarity, and the few others that appear on this playlist are weakly included in either direction. Not V. Ice’s jam though. Born On Halloween a card-carrying referential Halloween Monster Rap.
This is not a good song though. I love it. At times it fills me with Halloween joy. At other times it makes me laugh. I rock out to it in my car. Genuinely. I don’t change it at red lights when cute girls or tough guys pull up next to me.
It’s on The Shindig, hands down, no question, but it can’t really be called good. I love a lot of things genuinely that are not objectively good. Go scrolling randomly through this playlist; the evidence to that fact is compelling. Many things about this song are not good.
Starting with it’s absolutely ridiculous chorus. Random weirdo’s chant “Born On Halloween” in a manner that sounds suspiciously like This Is Halloween from A Nightmare Before Christmas. Fitting then, 100 songs after posting that track, we’ve finally decided to post this one.
Add to that some of the weakest referential rhymes to hit The Shindig since The Maniac Cop Rap, and it’s hard to make a strong case for the quality of this song.
“Some call him Psycho
the Norman Bates of Hip-Hop.
The ladies call him Alfred
Cause they’re all over his Hitchcock”
Wow.
No one calls V. Ice that, full stop. I doubt anyone calls him V. Ice for that matter, but hey.
I’ll also set my watch and warrant that no woman anywhere has ever referred to Vanilla Ice as “Alfred” for the sole purpose of alluding to his cock.
There’s no fucking way that’s mathematically possible. The amount of cognition involved in devising such a reference, divided by the relevance and knowledge of Alfred Hitchcock to any ladies within shouting distance of Robert Van Winkle on any given night, produces a probability that could only be visible through a high powered telescope, so fucking insane is it.
The kicker is that this incredibly juvenile rhyme…doesn’t even rhyme!
All of the above would be completely forgivable (as with most ridiculous rap boastings) if the lyric was actually clever. This one is not. And I fucking love it for that.
Violent J (not in fact born on Halloween, as he [perhaps] suggests) shows up to add some much needed street cred to the whole affair. I’m sorry, what?
When a rapping Clown from the Posse Insane is noticeably stepping up your track’s game, something is fucking broke. J quite honestly puts V. Ice to shame on this song with better rhymes, better rhythm and a tone becoming of the subject matter. It’s a breath of fresh air when J steps up to the mic. And that’s not a joke, either. That’s my sincere assessment.
The weirdos will intermittently spout off “With my mask I trick or treat, spooks and freaks all over your street” and “born on Halloween” to everyone’s delight, giving the song it’s air of Halloween spirit.
My research suggests that most listeners will find that all of this nonsense adds up to about 4 minutes of Halloween torture they’d rather have no part of. Can’t blame them for that. The more masochistic audiophiles however or any undercover Juggalos in your crowd might actually enjoy this business. Can’t blame them either, except maybe the undercover Juggalos, for well,…being fucking Juggalos.
I’ve been hard here on V.Ice here, as has the world as a whole for the last 25 years or so. Most of that is completely reasonable considering the seemingly disingenuous output of Robert’s career.
But seriously V.Ice, if you’ve somehow miraculously stumbled across this blog and are reading this, The Shindig loves this song, both genuinely and ironically, all at the same time. It loves that it exists and hoists it proudly among the ranks of Halloween rockdom. We wouldn’t change a thing about it. Your references, as weakly constructed as they are, jam-pack the front end of this track and the Halloween quotient is undeniable, right down to the cribbing of Danny Elfman and the good people of Halloweentown.
Please accept my apologies if I have made you feel, through any of the above criticism, that I am anything less than a fan of this track. There’s a lot of Halloween music I hate (there’s a few ICP songs that come to mind here) that I roundly refuse to include on this playlist. Born On Halloween is not one of those tracks. Born On Halloween is a Halloween song for the ages.
Aside for his contribution to Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers, and this (almost) title track for the 3rd installment, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot of info floating around about 80’s rocker John Altyn.
I guess he wasn’t a fan. As you’ll hear in the song, that “Same old story” part toward the end was John taking a little jab at the script for Teenage Wasteland, which I guess he thought was pretty lame.
Can’t say I blame him really. As a franchise, Sleepaway Camp was never all that compelling, and I think there’s a little bit of a noticeable dip for the 3rd installment. And if you’re familiar with Sleepaway Camp IV’s troubles, or have ever seen the ret-conned and wildly uneven bootquel Return to Sleepaway Camp, you know things didn’t follow an upward trajectory.
But as far as late cycle slasher films go, it’s honestly not terrible. Pamela Springstein’s Angela is still very charming and is a pleasure to watch as she does her best here to have some fun with the overtly campy material.
The kills are all rather lazy and not terribly explicit. It takes place almost exclusively in broad daylight and all at a very leisurely, almost blase pace. It’s not to be taken all that seriously though, and for that we can cut it a fair amount of slack. It’s the Angela show, and for that it works well enough.
This song however, is pretty kick ass. It’s a “sweet song,” used during the end credits of the film. This is a term I just learned from John himself in the above interview, and will henceforth use constantly. In fact, I may even update The Shindig categories and add Sweet Songs. I love that this has a term, and there’s tons of them all over The Shindig.
Here’s the Sweet Song from Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland, John Altyn’sSleepaway.
You’re Just What I’ve Been Looking For (Angela’s Theme) by Frank Vinci
Let’s take a little canoe ride from Camp Blackfoot across the lake to Camp Arawak for a 2 days overnighter with Angela Baker at Sleepaway Camp.
Mostly known for having the creepiest fuckin’ side-swipe ending of any generic Friday the 13thknockoff, Sleepaway Camp spawned several sequels and holds it own as a franchise that was able to climb out of Jason’s long shadow.
I’d love to post a gif, but I’d hate to spoil this for anyone that’s never seen it.
Ah, fuck it. This shit is 35 years old. If you haven’t seen this by now, I don’t know what to tell you, it’s just gonna get spoiled. Cause we can’t talk about Sleepaway Camp without talking about this ending. It’s the only thing that’s differentiates Sleepaway Camp from any number of faceless Friday clones.Horrifying.
Seriously. This shit still gets under my skin all these years later.
I had the fortune of seeing Sleepaway Camp long ago enough so that is wasn’t spoiled for me, and at an age where it could do maximum damage. And it did.
Given our current cultural climate, Sleepaway Camp tends to be derided as an artifact of Transphobia. Much the same way De Palma’s Dressed to Kill is now criticized.
And it’s a reasonable enough argument. If the sight of a girl with a penis was not frightening to you before, Sleepaway Camp certainly goes to some lengths making sure it forever will be. But, while I think that does support the argument against it, I think you can also cite those same lengths as reason why it isn’t perhaps wholly Transoygnist.
Like any good horror tale, Sleepaway Camp takes a social phobia (right or wrong) and uses it as a basis to create horror for its audience. I’m not sure the film is saying anything overt about that fear. Is it exploitive? Probably. But I don’t think it’s a condemnation. It’s not necessarily sympathetic either though, but films from the early 80’s rarely are in regards to any minority concern.
Now, you could argue that simply using a transgender reveal as a source of horror is insensitive, sure. You could also argue that by making a transgender character a violent and horrifying freak because of its transgenderism, and then having the other characters react as such, is just flat-out irresponsible. Thus you could condemn the film for perpetuating a negative cultural view of transgenderism. That is totally valid.
I think part of Sleepaway Camp’s defense though, could be that Angela’s transgenderism does not come from within her, but from an external source. She is forced into it by her adoptive aunt. Being abused into identifying as any gender against your will is wrong and itself horrifying. Almodovar’s similarly criticized The Skin I Live In also comes to mind here.
Considering this, one might argue that Sleepaway Camp is then perhaps even pro-transgenderism; a cautionary tale of the dangers (figurative or literal – mental or physical) of forcing anyone to align themselves with a gender they do not identify with. Maybe the biggest takeaway from Sleepaway Camp, intentional or not, is to let people just be who they are, whatever that is for them.
Additionally (for me anyway) the least horrifying aspect of this ending is the reveal of Angela’s gender. Sure, it’s part and parcel to the whole scene and its endurance, but there are several elements at work which give this scene its haunting quality. You could say they are thus making the transgender reveal horrifying, hence the argument against it. But I would say they are the factors, and not the reveal, which actually make this scene so horrifying. That might just be splitting hairs though.
Firstly, there’s the music. The piercing brass stabs are enough to set your teeth on edge by themselves.
Then there’s the build up. It’s abrupt and clumsy, but Aunt Martha’s characterization is so over the top and cartoonishly creepy, it is enough to give you the willies in context.
This is then followed by Angela’s guttural moaning. She says nothing. There’s no pleads of innocence, no explanations, just a heaving and animalistic breathing that send shivers down my spine still.
Then, the most effective part of this sequence, that wide shot. While this of course features the gender reveal, it is Angela’s frozen gaze which I’m actually disturbed by here.
This shot was made possible by life casting actress Felissa Rose’s face in the making the same horrifying look. They then turned that cast into a mask which was worn by a male actor. For me, this is the most upsetting part of the whole reveal; Angela’s static expression, made doubly creepy (and doubly static) by this horrifying mask.
It’s just stays there, frozen. And then the film freeze frames on Felissa Rose’s actual face and rolls the credits.
Credits over which you will hear this Shindigger, a creepy synth pop number seemingly written specifically for the film.
So whether or not this ending, or Sleepaway Camp as a whole, is something you find totally offensive and reprehensible, you can’t deny that it causes a deep emotional response, and that is something you don’t always get from this sort of lower-tier, copycat effort. And maybe that alone is worth the legacy.
Here’s another classic example of referencing a horror classic without actually talking about the movie at all, from Shindig All-Stars and referential magicians, The Misfits.
Sure, it might be called a Horror Hotel, but God knows what Danzig’s actually talking about here, because it’s not the 1963 Christopher Lee film.
What we do know is that it’s definitely about a hotel and some bad shit’s going down there, maybe even some horror. Particularly in Room 21, where all the underworld scum seem to congregate. Can’t say I know of any specific Room 21s from horror lore, but I’d be open to suggestions about what other references Glenn might be bandying about. Though I’ll wager it’s probably used simply because “Room 36” doesn’t rhyme with “scum.”
But that was sort of Glenn’s deal. Name a song after a classic movie and then whip up some lyrics that sort of jive with the mood that title conjured. Unless of course you’re talking about Return of the Fly, which basically reads like a Videohound entry of the film of the same name, right down to listing of its actors and characters.
None of that really matters though, does it? I mean, at least not where The Misfits are concerned. Personally, I rather like that these songs are less overt in their referential nature. Something like Blitzkid’sCandyman lacks any of that artistic (?) subtlety, opting to bludgeon you with lyrics so simple and childlike, it sort of takes something away.
You get none of that from Danzig and Co., and as such are gifted that wonderful space of ambiguity and interpretation.
Plus, it give us the opportunity to cram that space with plenty of samples from the song’s namesakes. Couldn’t do that if they just named the song Room 21, now could we?
In 1987, after struggling to work within the studio system and the unfortunate box-office performance of Big Trouble in Little China, John Carpenter decided to go rogue once again.
And rogue indeed, producing a straight-faced and strange (maybe even ahead of it’s time) film that I can’t imagine any major studio green-lighting. What emerged was an atmospheric, dread-drenched affair of Science converging with Religion to prove the existence of God.
Or perhaps more appropriately, the existence of Satan.
Sub-atomic. Moving within the atoms of things, where logic need not apply. Liquid evil. A green, putrid substance filled with all the abominations of the earth.
It was captured and sealed up long ago. A race of Humanoid Aliens, of which Jesus was a member, kept watch. But the truth was hidden. Wrapped in metaphor and buried under ritual.
Now, in light of our faithlessness, it has awoken, and it wants control.
I like Prince of Darkness. It’s a little talkie, sure, and maybe a tad slow, but I don’t mind. I could listen to Egg Shen spout off about theoretical physics all night. Donald Pleasence is solid, even if he feels like he’s just plugged in from The Devil’s Men, and A.J. Simon is only distracting if you actually used to watch Simon and Simon, which you probably didn’t. The supporting players do a fine in their respective roles, including Carpenter regulars like Victor Wong, Peter Jason and Dennis Dun.
And, once the scientists start being slowly absorbed by the evil and the hobos begin to gather, John turns on the gas a bit.
Speaking of the street people, Alice Cooper jumps in to play the pale-faced, beanie-rockin, head-hobo. He even kills a dude with a rusty, old bike. A dude who happens to be listening to this very song on his Walkman….meta.
Seems this bike was Alice’s own personal prop too, as he used to do this gag live during his stage show. Now thats pretty bitchin’.
Here’s reigning All-Star Alice Cooper rockin’ again with the patented Title Track Prince of Darkness.
How does one follow up The Ultimate Experience in Grueling Horror?
Well, if you’re Sam Raimi, you revisit the same basic concept and style, crank that shit the fuck up and call it “The Sequel to the Ultimate Experience in Grueling Horror.”
Fair enough.
You also create one of my favorite horror experiences of all time.
Well, if you’re Halloween Shindig, you take a page outta Sam Raimi’s book (of the dead), use another death metal song, this time about Evil Dead 2, follow the same basic concept and style, and crank that shit the fuck up!
And with that spirit firmly in mind, Halloween Shindig presents Deicide’sDead By Dawn, or The Sequel to the Ultimate Experience in Grueling Metal!
From 1985’s made-for-TV Halloween bonanza The Midnight Hour comes this creepy curio with so much mid-80’s budget-pop pizazz it even features a Soundwave-styled vocorder performance. Radical!
Harry Belafonte’s daughter Shari (pops wasn’t big on creativity, I guess) stars in the film and sings this tune, perhaps fashioned after the recent mega-hit Thriller.
In fact, the whole project seems to be an attempt to cash-in on Michael’s occult success; semi-spooky, family friendly, monster-mash madness with a throwback, 50’s drive-in flare. And this tune, an ensemble dance number staged at a Halloween party, appears to be the piece de resistance.
Though clearly made for TV and a little toothless, The Midnight Hour is a pretty enjoyable and festive addition to anyone’s October line-up. It’s even a fair bit more creepy than something you’d imagine was just made for TV.
You’ll get some fun guest appearances too, from the likes of Spaceball’s King Roland, Clarence Boddicker, that one guy from 21 Jumpstreet, UHF’s R.J. Fletcher, Yori from Tron and The Reading Rainbow Dude who wore that bitchin’ visor on Star Trek. Studded.
Plus there’s tons of Halloween ambiance, creepy Thriller-Lite graveyard scenes, a lot of cool make-ups and FX, a bunch of fun Halloween costumes, more monsters than you can shake a stick at and this kickin’ ‘digger. What more could you want from an October evening’s Televison adventure?
Freddy Krueger: What can be said about the quintessential 80’s man-specter that hasn’t been said a thousands different times by a thousand different nerds? Who am I to pretend like I’ve got some groundbreaking shit to drop on you? I’m no one, and I don’t, so I won’t. I’m simply another nerd with a foolishly myopic blog, so I’ll just stick to the script.
Freddy (whether I’ve said this before or not I can’t recall) is the reigning champ of horror tunes. He owns the 80’s pop-music-via-monster-icon scene. The guy even cut his own album. He’s all over it.
Jason comes close, but the Friday people didn’t fully climb aboard this particular train until part 6, and they never really bought a ticket. Freddy was shoveling coal in it’s boiler room.
And from the jump too, as even his first outing got its own little referentially inclusive tune in the form of 213’sNightmare.
Well, who the fuck is 213? Apparently they’re no ones, as no one seems to have any information on these guys. Well, aside from the painfully obviously “they were some local LA band that provided this track” or the goofier and obviously nonsensical “they were Johnny Deep’s band” theory.
Whoever they were, they’ll go down in the Shindig’s book as they guys who churned out that thoroughly apropos end credit song from the original Nightmare On Elm Street, and baby, that’s enough.
So, up yours with a twirling lawnmower,…whatever the hell that even means.
Speaking of Paul Williams, let’s take this moment to segue right into one of Horror’s most beloved rock operas, Brian DePalma’s 1974 pitch-perfect send-up of the entire recording industry, Phantom of the Paradise.
Elements of Faust, Phantom of the Opera,Frankenstein, Portrait of Dorian Gray and even a little Dr. Phibesare all fused together to tell a tale of love, betrayal, fame and revenge set to the backdrop of the doped-out, sinister 70’s music scene.
Williams scored the entire film for DePalma, and stars as Swan, the unscrupulous producer who collects talents and souls for his Death Records label.
Phantom of the Paradise is unique, visually arresting, kinetic and humorous all in equal measure. From DePalma’s active camera, to Gerritt Graham’s flamboyant Beef, to Winslow’s killer Phantom disguise, to Swan’s bitchin’ giant, record-shaped desk, to the parodist music, to the satire – everything here just works, and works so damn well.
Even getting Rod Serling himself to handle the opening narration is like a stroke of genius.
Here we have the film’s final track, a rocking little number played over the picture credits, that has all the seeming of Satan himself speaking directly to Swan.
If you’ve never seen Phantom of the Paradise, give this pop-rock-horror-satire a spin this October. And if you already love it, watch it again, just for the hell of it!
While fairly understated and never quite as rousing as it seems like it should be, The Devil’s Men is a somewhat worthwhile endeavor, if only to see card-carrying good guy Peter Cushing all cloaked out and evil, raising a 10 foot, fire-breathing Minotaur statue he calls “lord.”
Oh yeah and all the creepy , robed Minotaur worshipers.
Oh yeah and them all exploding at that end. That shit is pretty awesome.
But it’s mostly worth seeing for the grooviest title track this side of Scream and Scream Again, which incidentally, Cushing also appears.
Paul Williams performs this number, but apparently not the same Paul Williams with whom many of you may be familiar with from his performance in and musical contributions to, Brian DePalma’s Phantom Of The Paradise. Naw, this is some other Paul Williams. Which is unfortunate, but not terribly surprising, as this Paul Williams doesn’t sound much like that Paul Williams.
But props all around anyway other Paul, cause this one’s a doozy.
However, much like the last 2 cuts in this True Title Track block, someone had it out for The Devil’s Men, someone who sucked at their job.
See, they took the movie and retitled it Land Of The Minotaur. Which (while in and of itself is a cool title) seems pretty unnecessary, particularly during the 70’s satanic panic where one would imagine a film called The Devil’s Menmight play just fine.
They also saw fit to removed a bunch of violence and all the nudity. Seriously? What’s next? Did they cut out an awesome Title Track too?
Yes! That’s exactly what they did, and they should be tried and hung for the successive severity of their crimes.
So, if you’re gonna watch The Devil’s Men, make sure you watch The Devil’s Men, and not Land of the Minotaur, cause it doesn’t have a whole lot going for it, and the censored version removes just about every reason there is to watch it at all. For shame!
Here, now returned to its former glory, it’s Some Different Paul Williams with The Devil’s Men!
UPDATE!
Ok, so weird almost 10 years after the fact Post Script on this number, but I was just watching the Christian documentary Rock: It’s Your Decision,
If there’s one thing The Shindig hates, it’s when foolish producers try to bench a perfectly good Title Track. The Shindig lives for Title Tracks and finds this practice to be an affront to both the films and their visionary creators.
A great example is our next digger, a song we absolutely love, Fall Break.
Now this is a Title Track; tailor made, vaguely referential, tonally incongruous and totally bizarre. It sounds like an 80’s sitcom theme and it’s awesome.
But somebody with a suit and a wallet thought no one would watch a movie called Fall Break.
He was probably right. It’s a strange title. Is Fall Break even a thing? I’ve never heard of it outside of this movie. We certainly never got one growing up. Fuck, the school year just started, they need a break already? It sounds like some lame version of Spring Break in New Hampshire with no bikinis. Who’s getting jazzed for Fall Break?
Nobody, that’s who, and the money guys know it. They want rentals at the local Video Stop, and that same nobody is renting Fall Fucking Break.
Enter: The Mutilator.
People wanna see The Mutilator. Hell, I wanna see The Mutilator, it sounds tough as shit. It’s direct, violet, unambiguous, and a hell of the lot more intriguing then whatever stupid shit is happening in, what did you say that title was again? Fall Break? Yeah, that’s gotta go.
”But the movies already been made, cut and released as Fall Break. We even have a song called Fall Break playing during the opening credits and everything!”
Yeah, whatever to that bullshit, it’s The Mutilator now.
And a Title Track died.
Except, technically the film was released as Fall Break, so here on The Shindig we’re keepin it real; resurrecting all Title Tracks and returning them to their rightful seats on the throne!
Fall Break, like its title, is a strange song. It’s a great fit for the playlist, inspiring autumnal images perfectly befitting our night of All Hallows. As a Title Track to the film however, it feels a little out of place.
As mentioned above, it seriously sounds like a sitcom theme, with a tone straight off the Silent Night, Deadly Night soundtrack. There’s nothing ominous here. In fact, it’s a rather nice love song of sorts, ringing with the hopeful promise of an Autumn getaway; beer, football, leaves, skinny dipping and fun at a beach house. In a way, I guess it’s like the beginning of a slasher movie. No fear, just fun. Maybe it’s not so out of place after all.
Speaking of the beach house, here’s a warning to all would-be college kids seeking a weekend getaway at a similar beach front condo…
If the man who owns the house has a framed picture of a guy he “accidentally” murdered with his ski boat – leave. That’s it. Just take off. Politely excuse yourself, and say “Nope. Not stayin’ here. I hope you understand, but that photo is just too much” and leave. I don’t care if dude’s there or not. Doesn’t matter. Just terminate your presence immediately.
Because this is not just any picture of the guy, mind you, it’s a photo of his actual corpse. Not the guy hanging out during better times, ya know, as a nice reminder of their friendship – it’s his dead fucking body, gore strewn, presumably only minutes after the incident.
This photo is crazy. Why does Big Ed have this picture,…and framed no less!? And why aren’t any of Ed Jr.’s friends even the least bit perturbed by this photo? It’s absolute madness.
As far as the movie is concerned, I’d say apart from a couple of pretty interesting murders staged by Anthony Show and Mark Shostrum (who would later go on to produce FX forDream Warriors and Evil Dead 2amongst other things) Fall Break is a rather throwaway mid-era slasher devoid of any laughs, intentional or otherwise.
There’s barely any skin and all the tension of an untied shoe, kind of like the prospect of a Fall Break. Essentially, this is a who-dun-it where you already know who-dun-it before they’ve even dun-it. What’s the point? I dunno, some cool gore scenes, I guess. Oh yeah, and an awesome title track.
Speaking of which, here it is, the best thing about Fall Break, its Peter Yellen and The Breakers with Fall Break!
What better place to bring our Haunted House Rockin’ block to an end than here, at the Berber House with Hauntedween, a Haunted House Halloween Title Track?
While not a real haunted house, The Berber House is just a festive Haunted House, or rather a Haunt, which has hitherto been unrepresented in our block.
A staple of the season since well before I was brought to this plane of existence, The Haunted House is as much a part of Halloween as Trick-or-Treating, Jack O’Lanterns and slutty costumes.
High school kids in rubber masks weave through a thick mist of dangling limbs and fake fog, looking for their next mark.
Disorienting lights strobe to the beat of pneumatic pistons firing foam jump scares.
A chainsaw is perpetually chugging somewhere, sometimes roaring to life, but from where, you couldn’t say.
Grown adults tip-toe around dark corners, weary of things they know aren’t really out to get them.
The nervous shriek, the tough guys almost instinctively punch and the weirdos laugh uneasily.
Some are good and some are terrible, but they all have that same smell, that same vibe, the same excitement, and you should always treat yourself to at least one visit a season.
If you live around Southern California, I highly recommend Reign of Terror in Thousand Oaks. Skip Universal, Knotts and The Griffith Park Hayride, and check that place out.
Hauntedween is a low budget affair filled with that same sort of passionate home-town charm and love for the holiday you find in local Haunted Houses, and it features a killer lying in wait at just such a local Haunt. You can read The Shindig’s write-up here!
This Title Track (which it is gracious enough to give us) plays over a montage of the Sigma Phi frat boys rebuilding the old local Haunt in preparation for a holiday fundraiser to save their fraternity!
It may be awkward to say, and it may not make one bit of sense, but here it is all the same…it’s Hauntedween!
Ok, so Ghost Fever‘s a pretty shitty movie, right?
Oh, not sure you agree with me? Go see for yourself. I’ll meet you back here in 92 minutes
Alright, so now that we’re all on the same page, let’s talk this through.
I’m not sure how much Ghost Fever you actually came down with but chances are it wasn’t so much that you’ll be requiring any antibiotics.
That being said, I love Ghost Fever. It has the distinction of being the only movie where Sherman Hemsley plays corner man to Luis Ávalos as he boxes Smoking Joe Fraizer with the assistance of Southern ghosts. Well, the only one that I’ve seen anyway.
It’s also the only movie I’ve ever seen with a break-dancing mummy.
Now, that’s pretty awesome.
All of this however does not make Ghost Fever a good movie, it just makes Ghost Fever a singular thing, and that’s worth something. Admittedly, it’s a little more than hard to sit through, but if you can get behind a poor idea executed in the poorest possible fashion, with the most eye-rolling bafoonery this side of Pandemonium, it’s a certain kind of treat.
James Ross at Badmovienite.com probably puts it best in his humorous review:
“At times it’s like a live action episode of Scooby-Doo meets the Harlem Globetrotters. Except it’s not really fun, or funny, and there are no talking dogs.”
Well, there’s definitely no talking dogs, I’ll give him that. But I’m laughing (kind of), particularly when it decides to get all batshit crazy toward the end. It’s not always the kind of laugh Alan Smithee is intending, but a laughs a laugh, right?
Oh yeah, did I mention Ghost Fever is an Alan Smithee film? That oughta give you an idea of what’s going on here.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with Smithee, “he’s” a pseudonym the Director’s Guild of America allows a filmmaker to use if they feel too embarrassed by the final product and can demonstrate a lack of artistic control.
Yeah, so even actual director Lee Madden disavowed this pile. I’m not quite sure it’s that bad, nor it even so bad it’s entertaining by virtue, but it’s definitely bad, that much I can say with confidence. But, dear Weeners, it’s not without its moments and with the right amount of intoxicants and the right amount of friends with the right sensibilities, it could be the right movie.
Of course, here on The Shindig, we don’t talk about this kind of nonsense without merit or a cause célèbre and Ghost Fever (as you might imagine) has a fucking doozy.
Submitted for your Halloween enjoyment, here’s George Jefferson himself spiriting his way through a disco title track of supernatural proportions.
