You either loved them or loathed them (some did both), but it was difficult to ignore the bawling, intentionally crude, anti-musicianship coughed up by Pussy Galore. A bunch of scuzzy-looking juveniles from Washington, D.C. -- their name coming from Honor Blackman's character in the James Bond film Goldfinger -- and led by a young punk rockin' bohemian hipster wannabe named Jon Spencer, Pussy Galore created an unholy metallic ruckus that was part serious avant-garde noise wail, part nonsense pose. Considering their limited skills, narcissistic tendencies, and drug-cult mythologizing, there is a sizable body of work from this band. The problem is that it's mostly hit-and-miss, which is a polite way of saying a little Pussy Galore goes a long ... Read More...
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