A trip to the Dentists today, but first: May Kevin Dubrow find nothing but zebra-swirl microphone stands where he's going. I once saw Quiet Riot for free --for free - in a NJ club in 1999 or 2000. They were horrible. But the crowd delivered. There were guys present who hadn't left their basements since 1986. Mullets like prehistoric fauna.
Why the Dentists? Only because a cd case of old stuff fell out of a bookcase I was moving and, zipper borken, fell open to the D cds, and therein, sparkling, lay the Dentists' collection of 80s EPs known as Dressed.
I won't sketch their bio details here - there's a critically and factually accurate profile on allmusic --but Dressed contains their best work, a collection of amazingly accomplished britpop that can only be slagged for maybe a tad too much Byrds worship. Yet while the Las get idolized, this goes ignored, and it's five times better. In the case of "Turquiose Castle," at 1:00 total and maybe the best minute of their career, the Dentists presaged the minimal pop masterpieces of GBV by seven or eight years. Only one song on the collection tops 3 minutes, and that's by six seconds.