Bronson Wastes Creeps (www.bronsonwastescreeps.com)
Here’s the gag; this is supposedly a recording by Paul Kersey, a liberal, namby pamby conscientious objector and architect that just happens to be played by the professional human rights violator with the brick shithouse physique and a face that could make a bear cry, Charles Bronson. For those of you non-film school types that aren’t familiar with the Death Wish series, in broad strokes: Kersey, trying to mind his own business, is backed into an ethical corner where the only tenable solution is to go on murder sprees with increasingly sophisticated firearms. Any woman he is close to will be raped, murdered, or both. This went from a relatively subtle and influential first film, where Bronson, frustrated with street crime and traumatized by the rape of his daughter and the murder of his wife at the hands of Jeff Goldbloom, takes to the street armed with a small revolver. In later films, such as Death Wish 3, Bronson, the police, and the elderly citizens of New York engage in a lengthy firearms battle vs. a multi-ethnic street gang accompanied by bikers. Bronson traded in his small pistol for the Widley Magnum, which makes Dirty Harry’s .44 magnum look like a powder-puff, a belt-fed ant-aircraft machine gun, and finally, a rocket launcher. Bronson, also manages to strike up and romance with the local prosecutor, (who is knocked out then pushed into oncoming traffic), and a friendship with a young Hispanic woman (she is raped, and dies as result of her injuries). On this album Bronson/Kersey grabs the mic and releases bizarre, always-in-character diatribes about killing creeps and being frustrated with the cops, over spaced-out guitar and a loose backbeat. Yeah yeah, I wanted to turn up my nose at such silliness, too, but this transcends any tee-hee! aren’t-we-clever chuckles into a hypnotic and & excellent record. First off, whoever is doing Bronson’s voice does an incredible job, and has Bronson’s clipped syntax, and nuance-free, blunt delivery down pat. You forget you’re not listening to an actual stream of conscious rant from an out of touch, grumpy, myopic Bronson. Second, they did their homework - Bronson’s real life and the Paul Kersey character are blended into a kind of uber-Bronson, combining the latter’s love of “killing creeps” with actual details from the former’s life. Bronson’s wife, the late Jill Ireland’s decade-long struggle with breast cancer is detailed in a tasteless, yet funny song, where Bronson sadly intones “I tried to waste as many creeps as I could, but,” he adds regretfully, “it didn’t do any good,” or his problems with his son, a junkie who “became a crawling, degraded, piece of dung” before Bronson shot him in the chest with an elephant gun (or he overdosed, I forget which). All these yuks wouldn’t be worth a shoebox full of dirt if there wasn’t a bassist laying out a steady murk while a crackerjack guitarist squeals and squawks in all the right places, whipping out something that sounds not-unlike Stick Men With Ray Guns, & the drummer beats his kit in a nice, improvey cadence. This is top-notch stupid entertainment for anyone that’s ever had their heart warmed by the sight of Charles Bronson, clad in a members only jacket, shooting a fleeing car thief in the back, or blasted Chrome from their car stereo. These anonymous yuksters are offering this thing for free online at the address above, and you should get clickin’ ASAP. Wonder if Bernard Goetz has got his copy yet?