G: Bring the Kids - PG: Approach With Caution - PG-13: In-Laws, Coworkers Keep Out - R: Wife, In-Laws, Coworkers Definitely Keep Out - X: Probably Something Involving Robert Logan
Robert Logan's legend goes back as far as Mike Palm telling me about being chased through an abandoned field by him in 2nd grade, Mike fleeing on his Schwinn Stingray, with Logan in hot pursuit, screaming and baring his teeth behind him. Here's a few of my fonder memories, and check out the best Robert blog of all, by Omlit drummer Rosann.
Robert massaging himself with a moist goats head, courtesy of El Carniceria Valdez. Omlits opening for Naughty Women, basement party in Riverside, circa 1981. More enticing than any Playboy, ever.
The Anti-Christmas Party
The infamous Anti-Christmas party took place at our Fullerton studio circa.1979, with the original idea of Top Wave being the headliner (a concept band of Robert's, me on acoustic pretending I was Marc Bolan, Jon Socie (Sandy's roadie) singing, and Robert scrubbing floors with Comet. I backed out due to my balls not being big enough, so Robert enlisted Little Johnny Monologue and the Albino Family Dance Band, a band Robert assembled with the biggest misfits he could find:
Martin Toben: This frizzy haired guy who worked grave at the local 7/11, and best known for fearlessly beating a gun-wielding thug with a baseball bat. He was about 320 pounds, huge and fucking scary looking.
Kathy Toben: Martin's demure, hunchbacked 200 pound sister.
Ragu: A 240 pound roller derby fan with horn rimmed glasses and a helium voice.
Each were first tasked with writing their own original song about the Jim Jones tragedy in Guyana. Then they all decided on their stage look, with Ragu coming up with the best outfit. Being a Gene Simmons fan, Ragu wore a black cape and attached milk crates to both of his shoes so he could stomp around like a demon. It was awesome.
Their set was basically a lot of noise climaxing with Martin walking up and shoving people as hard as he could over the benches we'd set up for people to sit. The floor was concrete, so there were some great landings to be seen. Even the bikers Robert had brought over from My Shrink were afraid of him. Martin made every punk singer that came after him look like a pussy, which most of them are, btw.
Logan vs. The Mentors
When Robert threw a party, you knew interesting things were gonna happen. One at his parents house started with word of The Mentors coming from Los Angeles, and we saw their 1961 Impala turn onto his street, and the two Mentors in it putting on their hoods to look cooler when they pulled up.
Sometime into the evening someone ran over and said The Mentors were in the field next to Robert's house doing a local girl bass player we knew. A group of about 15 walked over, and sure enough they were having a threesome on a dirt patch. Local girl bass player looked up and was vaguely annoyed at the intrusion, but then went back to business. When Dr. Heathen Scum (bassist) was about to finish, Sickie Wifebeater (guitar) handed him his hood to make sure he finished with his hood on. Friends for life, these two.
While Sickie continued, Heathen joined me in a joint circle. I pulled an amyl nitrate vial (lovingly branded 'Locker Room') out of my pocket and handed it to him, and he sucked in the fumes for as long as a person can suck air back. I looked at him to see if he was gonna fall over, and he looked at me, smiled, and in his best El Duce drawl said, "You gotta take all you can get".
Sickie ended his 69' session by violently bouncing said bass player's head off the aforementioned dirt spot, then they both sat with us in the joint circle and held hands. Aah, young love...
Robert's short-lived band The Mertzes used our old concrete Fullerton studio to film a video. An unsuspecting crew arrived of two guys who looked like firemen and had no idea what they were in for. The first song starts, and before he even starts to sing Logan lifts his shirt and starts hacking away at his chest with a box cutter, blood flying everywhere. The more mustached one of the two ran out of the place with his hand over his mouth. Logan destroyed the video afterwords, possibly for not being violent enough.
The Mertzes were the only band in history to feature Denise Malicoat on Speed Racer Whistle. Yes, that's really an instrument.
Robert Logan vs. Rikk Agnew vs. Box Cutter
After a night of every drug he could get his hands on, Robert was sitting with Rikk Agnew in Tim Maag's 50's VW bus with Rikk being brave going, "Robert.., cut me!" In hindsight probably a bad idea. Without hesitation Robert took his box cutter and went about a half inch through Rick's arm and accidentally through his own thigh. Rick immediately went white & yelled frantically, "Robert! It's too deep!" with Logan smiling at me with the most insane smile I've ever seen. Someone took Rikk to the hospital and we drove Logan to the facility Christie Lantz's dad was a doctor at. After he stitched Robert up, he snuck back to Maag's bus without paying, and we drove off and stopped for beer on the way back.
Robert had a fantasy about us holding hands and jumping to our deaths off the top of the Disneyland Hotel. Whenever he'd see I was in a love funk, he'd pounce: "Dennis! Disneyland Hotel!!"
We were rehearsing in Santa Ana early 1978 the night we met Robert. He showed up with a little entourage (Robert always travelled with an entourage, which helped cause he didn't drive). Right away he starts baiting me about my long hair (The Ramones were long hairs, never got that with punks :-) I started back baiting him about being so cliche' with the safety pins through his forehead and the tired thrift store clothes. I gave it back to him and he went from antagonistic to having the coolest expression, as if to say, "We are gonna be great friends now!" We were too after that. We worked at jobs together, he set me up on dates with the weird girls he knew, and I'd fend off his drunken advances when he'd try to charm me by telling me I looked like Marc Bolan :-)
At an Omilt's show at our Fullerton studio, Robert did a Pete Townsend with a cheap Mexican guitar, and started heaving the pieces at everybody in a rage. One hit me under the eye, and in a moment of humanity he froze and looked at me to see if I was O.K. I was pumped and put my fists up to show it was O.K., and he went right back to the mayhem. I still sport the scar there, which is infinitely cooler than any Germ's burn.
Robert was the first person who told me about the Hillcrest Park bathroom thing where gays would cruise & have sex in the stalls. He met someone there once and they met away from the park for a while at the guys apartment. The guy, being an opera buff, would sing opera while Robert would hit him doggie style. This clearly is what love's all about.
Sandy's roadie Johnny Socie was working at the pawn shop across from our studio on Harbor, and on one drunken night Robert talked him into letting him inside so they could play around. Johnny opened the place up, not knowing he'd trigger the central alarm, and ten minutes later we watched as the Fullerton SWAT Team arrived, rifles drawn. They pulled a sheepish Robert and Johnny out, made a call to the owner, and 15 minutes later they were back drinking with us in our studio.
(I recently emailed this recollection to Denise, the daughter of the late, great Weasels singer Mike Brophy): We knew a punk legend named Robert Logan who thought I'm The Commander was the greatest song in the history of mankind. One Saturday night when we were completely hammered, he challenged me to a contest to see who could listen to I'm The Commander the longest. The turntable was on repeat from about 8:30PM to 2:30AM, and we were both groveling on the floor at that point, ready to pass out, when I finally caved: "Robert, that's enough! You win! Take it off!!" With a newfound victory energy Robert bounced up off the floor, crouched down with his nose an inch from my face. and started screaming the lyrics along with the record that had been playing for six hours; "I told you what to do, yes, I'm the Commander!!" That was awesome! :-)
Robert Memories, Courtesy of Mr. Frank Agnew
Someone (I think John Socie) grossing out on Omlit as he admitted to eating out his recently deceased dog and Robert stating with real emotion... "BUT SHE WAS MY WIFE!"
Theresa and Kirby Jones b-day party at the Black Hole in Feb 1980. Clem Cadidlehopper (Stuart Barnes) standing in the bedroom doorway next to Omlit cutting off his pubic hair with scissors, rolling it up and tacking it on to the bedroom wall. Omlit not to be outdone (he was on several hits of acid) made Clem piss in a cup. He then took six of Kirby's birth control pills and washed it down with Clem's piss.
Sparky McCracken running into Omlit on the bus in his later years and asking what he was doing. Omlit was going grocery shopping. Sparky peaked at the shopping list in Omlit's hand and all that was on it was "Fish".
For Rikk's 19th birthday, Omlit as a gift gave him a check for 7 cents and his entire Black Oak Arkansas record collection.
I have to add here that this was as close to love as I've ever heard for Robert - He worshipped BOA and once had a 'Jim Dandy Day' where he only talked like Jim Dandy for 24 hours. Godhead.
Korye Logan: I Am Just A Skeleton
Rosann's blog says this was the last song Robert ever wrote, presented here nicely by his brother.
The Omlits opening for the great Naughty Women in a basement in Riverside. Drummer Rosann is covered in cow blood, proving Death Metal bands are freakin' pussy's.
Robert next to the lovely Cat Gwynn at a Mechanics house party.
Robert with Carl the Biker, moments before 'Night Boxing' where Carl almost knocked Robert unconscious with one shot.
Internet find. PS, there's a shot from 1976 that was either in Playboy or another mag of Robert standing in a punk crowd at night, wrapped up like a mummy and screaming insanely at the camera. Was for an article about this newfangled punk rock thing. If you know what I'm referring to please clarify, thanks! :-)
A quick PS...
There seems to be an epidemic of Omlit's MP3's on peoples websites, and I can honestly tell you not a one of them is Robert. I suspect they're his brother years after the fact, or some fanboys, but they're in no way Robert. How to tell if you have the Wonka Golden Ticket:
What Robert called The Omlit's evolved from him with a cheap classical stringed guitar. He didn't actually know how to play, so he'd lay one finger across the fretboard (which is actually an 11th chord) and chord that way. He'd also only up-stroke, a response to Johnny Ramone only down-stroking, since The Omlit's were supposed to be anti-punk.
Omlit's cassettes were released on Angel Trumpet Records, Robert's own cassette label, which also put out Naughty Women tapes. I have one. It's awesome.
Robert's voice is very distinctive (check the Several Pamela's YouTube video below). Robert didn't play 'Metal.' The stuff on the Internet sounds like fucking Danzig.
He wrote a ton of songs in his one chord style, 'Me To Die' being the best of them. If you have a copy, please send it and I'll be your friend forever.
Several Pamela's on New Wave Theatre
Latter day interview from Creatures of a Disturbing Nature fanzine.
Little known Robert band The Duplicators, which sometimes included our singer Scott on bass, Rikk Agnew, and possibly Glenn the Indian on drums..
RIP Robert...The Mechanics vs. Franco Columbu »