Daddy, where are my balls?
— “Prepubescent Punk”
Sometimes you find the records. Sometimes the records find you, catching your eye for reasons unknown and eventually going home with you. Which is precisely how I got pulled into the orbit of Dr. Sadistic and the Silverking Crybabies. Their two releases were displayed on the wall of Bend, Oregon’s Ranch Records during our recent visit, and the absurdity of the band’s name all but forced me to check my phone and see what I could find out. Which, at the time, wasn’t much (though later I found a great history by one of the Silverking Crybabies HERE)… but it was enough to not only buy both records, but to also break one of my cardinal rules, “Don’t Buy Old Sealed Records Because They’re Always Warped”. Fortunately my rule breaking paid off, as the self-published Pyramid Punk is in a sturdy jacket that never got messed up by the dreaded shrinkwrap shrink.
Dr. Sadistic and the Silverking Crybabies formed as a revolt against not only disco but also crappy punk. The result is Pyramid Punk, a quasi Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of concept album about a kid with some extra chromosomes named Jerome who is accidentally castrated by a drunk Dr. Sadistic, an unfortunate event that sets his life on a trajectory of teenage binge drinking, discovering punk, herpes, being held hostage in a bondage condo in Aspen, Colorado, then escaping and living in a dumpster… before being kicked out of the dumpster too. All the while railing against everyone from his fellow punks to Aspen’s wealthy. Gucci-Pucci asshole / Small dogs / Big cars / Face lift / No scars! Stylistically it’s punk attitude to be sure, but musically almost more like show tunes, a blend of light rock, doo-wop, new wave, funk, and glam. There’s nothing hard or fast here, but that doesn’t matter, because the whole thing is one big middle finger at anyone and everyone.
The crew continued Jerome’s story a year later with Maroon Balls, Jerome having apparently survived the events of Pyramid Punk despite the album ending with him being beaten to a pulp (“Beat Me to a Pulp”) and the playing of “Taps” to close out the record. The emphasis, however, shifts to Dr. Sadistic himself, as he travels to Aspen and becomes the frontman for the Crybabies. From there it gets racy, irreverent, ridiculous, and everything in between (as well as on top of and underneath). Musically the Crybabies play in a style similar to that on Pyramid Punk, a blending of various genres and this time even adding in a dose of polka (“The ‘Won’t You Please Go Back to New Jersey…’ Polka”), all of it played quite well even if the whole thing is tongue-in-cheek.
Will I ever play these Dr. Sadistic albums again? Well… I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Their absurdism is tempered by decent playing, so while both records would almost qualify as novelties, they’re awfully good ones. But regardless, I’m glad they found me.