Everyone’s got a filter. No one says what they truly think. It’s all pleasantries and hand shakes. Beau Basement wants none of that. What he does want is a little danger in rock ‘n’ roll.
Ed. note: This article originally appeared in the Summer 2010 Youngstown Pulse.
By B.J. LISKO
Youngstown Pulse Magazine Editor
My fondest story of Beau Basement, the acoustic G.G Allin/Darby Crash/punk rock Dylan, as well as First in Space drummer and most recently new drummer for Turbo Lovers, happened a few years back at The Draught House. Myself, Stiv Reynolds of The Hollywood Blondes and Beau were sitting s*itfaced at the bar talking about f*ck knows what just before last call when a college looking guy in a pair of crocs, backwards hat and Abercrombie summer wear came up and tried to drunkenly get involved in the conversation. He asked quite enthusiastically if we were in a band, trying to start the usual music banter that often happens with most musicians and typically ends up in ten minutes of mindless waste of life you’ll never get back. All of us were in bands, of course, just not in the same one, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. He proceeded to tell us about his new Fender guitar to which he got about three seconds into describing when Beau said, “Dude, f*ck you and f*ck you’re f*cking guitar.”
That’s Beau in a nutshell, never one to ever pull punches. He’s only politically correct or scenefully correct when playing in someone else’s band as to not burn any bridges for them out of respect. On his own terms, he’s Beau f*cking Basement – a bad motherf*cker who knows his rock ‘n’ roll inside and out, was on the cusp of stardom some dozen years ago, has been in and out of rehabs twice, and honestly cares what very few think of him personally.
His soft spots are for his soon-to-be-wife Lizzie and punk rock ‘n’ roll – which he can’t believe the sheer lack of danger or excitement in when it comes to Youngstown specifically. He’s loyal as a pitbull to those close to him. He’s also as fierce. He’ll call out his best of friends on bulls*it, but is the true definition of someone who if on your side, has your back, every time, all the time.
Beau has been in countless rock bands, many of which were strictly Ramones-core (he’s still in one, The Lebowski’s from Harrisburg, Pa.), but at 19 fronted The Strikeouts who were signed to Offspring frontman Dexter Holland’s imprint Nitro to be groomed as the next A.F.I. after Davey Havoc and Co. signed to a major. Nitro eventually was bought out by Hollywood Records and The Strikeouts were put on tour with The Deviants.
“After the second show, they said ‘your singer is never gonna make it on tour,’” Beau said. “I was like, yeah, whatever. And because I’m a derelict and I’m a drunk, three shows in I broke my arm falling off 20-foot scaffolding. I was still like, ‘yeah, bullshit.’ They’re like ‘you’re going to the hospital.’ We ended up recording a full-length and they dropped us.” Hollywood Records owns the recording until 2019 – bought with an advance of $10,000 that Beau said “went straight up my nose.”
Beau also plays periodically in The Lebowskis, Harrisburg’s answer to The Ramones, and the biggest rock institution in Eastern Pa.
He is known in Youngstown more for his late night run-ins than music, which is unfortunate. He pulled a knife at Cedars. He despises The Robbie Jay Band, The Kellys and The Zou and most of Cedars’ soundman and Infidels staple Pete Drivere’s decisions. But unlike so many other people in the area, he has the balls to voice his opinion completely unfiltered in public. He is not the guy to tell you your band is tight. “That’s code for, ‘We really don’t like you’re fucking band,” he said. “Why candy coat it? I don’t care. Look, I’m a punk rocker. With puck rock where I come from, you know you’re gonna talk shit. But are you willing to take a punch for it? You could hit me with a f*cking brick.”
I didn’t hit Beau with a brick. In fact he was already pleasantly half in the bag on a full glass, yes full glass of Snake Bites, and a triple Jack and Coke when we met for the interview.
Beau isn’t looking for approval. He’s just looking for a good rock show or two, and judging by this interview, to him there’s been approximately one in the five years since he moved from Harrisburg to Youngstown. “The best fucking show was The Turbo Lovers,” he said with a laugh. “And I just joined the band.”
Little known fact about Beau – he’s got an English Lit. degree from Penn State which he used to grab up a good paying, solid job to provide stability for his fiancée and himself, and in fact went to college on a basketball scholarship and might very well still be playing had he not blown out his knee his junior year with the Nittany Lions.
Love him, hate him, whatever. Beau Basement is a true talent in more ways than one. Whether it will ever outweigh the persona he’s made for himself remains to be seen. But Beau Basement is one of the few, true punk rockers left. And perhaps, or rather, more likely, the only one frequenting these parts. He’s not looking for a fight, specifically. But he will fight for good rock ‘n ‘roll.
“Nothing is dangerous anymore, and that’s why it’s dead in Youngstown,” he said. “Play fast, play hard, piss people off. If they don’t like it, f*ck them.”
So Beau, what happened with The Strikeouts some dozen years ago?
We singed to Nitro, which ended up being bought out by Hollywood records, they wanted us to be the next A.F.I., I got to meet Dexter Holland from the Offspring, he didn’t like me (laughs). They set us up on a 3-week tour with the Deviants. After two shows they said ‘your singer is never gonna make it on tour. I was like ‘yeah, whatever.’ And because I’m a derelict and I’m a drunk, sure enough, three shows later, I broke my arm falling off 20-foot scaffolding. Then we recorded a full-length and they dropped the band and shelved the record and owned it. They still own it. It was a standard record deal. The only thing that’s been released from The Strikeouts was a split EP and we did a split 7-inch with The Vapids from Canada. And I was 19, 20, and I thought I was gonna be a rock star, and it didn’t happen. Sh*t didn’t work out. They said I wouldn’t make it on tour. Like I said, I told them ‘bullsh*t.’ Three shows, and ‘nah,’ they we’re like ‘yeah you’re done. You’re going to the hospital.’ So I went back and I graduated college. I’ve been in like 30 bands. The Nighttime Dealers. The Del Phantoms. Black River Mafia. I’ve been in The Lebowskis for six years on and off.
You’re obviously outspoken, and I’m sure you’ve got some crazy tour stories. Tell me more.
Well I was in Black River Mafia. We weren’t Nazis, we were fascists, and there’s a difference. You can put that in print. We strapped guns to ourselves when we played. Our singer was in jail for 12 years for shooting a guy with a shotgun. He got out of jail and started a band. It was mostly all ages shows, but with strapped on guns, forty millimeters, you know, stainless steal, chrome handles with iron crosses on them. So imagine kids watching a show and the singer takes off his jacket and he’s got hand guns strapped to him. That’s rock ‘n’ roll. That’s the most dangerous band I’ve ever played in. That’s probably about it. That and a lot of drugs.
Any specifics? Shows? Anything stand out above and beyond?
The singer in Black River Mafia punched out a bull-d*ke chick. I felt stupid because I was the drummer sitting in the back while everyone was up front having fun. I don’t know. There was lot of drugs, lots of cocaine. Every show we played we got kicked out. We had seven shows in a year, and we had to quit because we couldn’t play anywhere else. No one would book us because they already heard. I played with Johnie 3 for a while, too. They were touring with a chick drummer who was a c*nt. They kicked her out in Harrisburg, and they asked me. Next thing you know I’m touring with them for a hot minute, and of course they don’t like me. They act like they do, but they’re scared of me.
Your fiancée Lizzie brought you to Y-town. What in 5 years, are your impressions?
The first show I went to was at Cedars. I walked in and I wanted to vomit. I got to meet Pete Drivere. I got thrown out that night because I yelled at the bartender for making my drink weak. It was tall Billy. And a couple months later I got thrown out again. In Youngstown there’s no f*cking good bands, I mentioned before when I played acoustic that I liked the Turbo Lovers and now I’m f*cking playing in the Turbo Lovers. Them, Hollywood Blondes, First in Space and Michelle Lynn – Johnny’s (of First in Space) sister are the only good acts in Youngstown. I mean, you gotta give me some more specific bands because I’m fucking hammered. But I went to the show and where I’m from everything is intense. Violence is lost on Youngstown. I miss the violence. There should be danger in rock ‘n’ roll and punk rock. And I move to Youngstown and everyone’s in a math metal band or an indie band. I don’t get it. I don’t know what they’re doing. So then I started playing acoustic because I thought, well, f*ck it, no one wants to play with me, so I’ll play acoustic. It ended up like a G.G. Allin thing, and everybody wanted me to play to everybody and be all outrageous, and then I had the knife thing at Cedars, and they didn’t like that (laughs).
Go into the knife thing at Cedars, because you’re kind of infamous for it, and not a lot of people really know what the deal was surrounding that.
I moved to Youngstown and everybody talked about how tough it is, you know, murder capital of the world per capita, which is bullshit. Detroit pisses on Youngstown. I was opening up for First in Space. There was probably about a hundred, hundred fifty people. It was an okay show. I’m hammered. I had probably been drinking for about five hours and a bouncer with a big beard comes up to me at the end of the night and says ‘You’re f*cking outta here.’ And I said ‘No I’m not. I didn’t get f*cking paid yet.’ And he said, ‘You’re outta here,’ and I said ‘You’re f*cking crazy. I’d like to see you get me outta here. I didn’t do nothing, I been drinking, I played, you should pay me. Where’s my money?’ The guy grabs me and throws me into a bunch of chairs. I jump up and hit that fat f*ck as hard as I can, and to his credit that stupid son of a bitch, his head just went (makes quick back and forth motion with face), and I was like ‘Oh f*ck, I ain’t getting beat up tonight, I’m f*cking getting too old for that s*it.’ So I pulled out a brass knuckle stiletto knife, 8-inch blade, and I wasn’t getting beat up. Next thing you know, 20 people are dragging me outside screaming ‘You don’t get it, what are you doing?’ and I was like ‘F*ck you, I thought this town was supposed to be tough.’ Everyone got me outside and was like “Oh my God, what’s he doing.’ Then the cops come, you hear the sirens, and suddenly everybody gets tough and says they’re gonna kick my ass. I’m like, you wait for the cops to come? I’m the one with the knife! And then Pete Drivere looks at me and says, ‘I think you better get outta here.’ So I f*cking left. I started walking down Mahoning Ave. across the bridge, and that’s when Stiv (Stiv Reynolds – guitarist/singer from the Hollywood Blondes) and Lizzie pick me up and Stiv’s like, ‘We need to get you in the car now.’ I pulled a knife on an asshole, and they fired him later. I will say this for Cedars though. Tall Billy called me two days later, and was like ‘Dude, you can’t come back here anymore.’ And I was like ‘Alright.’ And the only reason I think that’s cool is that’s the only bar I’ve ever been thrown out of where they called and told me. Usually I heard word of mouth about not being allowed back. He called. And you know, it took a year and a half, but they let me back in. It was playing in First in Space that got me back in. And I was only allowed to come in the band door, play the show, and then leave. They didn’t want to offer me any drinks, and that’s f*cked up. I spent a lot of money there (laughs)! I didn’t really do anything. Where I come from, you pull a knife out, whatever, no big deal.
As far as the rock scene in general overall, is anybody doing anything that gets you off? Last thing I know you told me was that you were into the new Coheed and Cambria, but that’s not really rock to me anyway. Anything going on worth while?
Overseas, there’s something in the water, like Norway and Sweden. Backyard Babies are still playing, Hellacopters got back together, Peep Shows are back together. Eastern Europe and Canada has some good bands. The Vapids are off and on. They are more like Ramones core/Motorhead. There’s a band called the Rocket Reducers up there. They got a singer called Matt Ellis, he’s 21. He’s the future of rock ‘n’ roll. He’s a trainwreck. I think they went to Seattle just to play one show with the Black Halos for no reason. They drove 1,500 miles to play one show. They’re good. United States, there really isn’t anything. There’s one band from Harrisburg, The Blood Meridian, they f*cking wail. They are rock ‘n’ roll. The United States hasn’t had a real good rock ‘n’ roll band since shit, (pauses), I mean come on, chime in.
Everybody that I liked or got into, or the bands I really got into from that initial surge around 2000, Gaza Strippers quit, Dragons quit, Unband quit, the only ones still doing it are Supersuckers, Electric Frankenstein. Looking back, some of the bands that made it through, do you look back with any regrets? You were on the cusp, man.
I regret a lot. I was 19, I’m still a c*cksucker, and I was a c*cksucker then. I fronted The Strikeouts, wrote all the songs, we were 19, we had the label pay for the recording, put us out on the road, Hollywood bought Nitro from Dexter (Holland), and then they sat us down and were like ‘you’re not gonna make it.’ Like I said, Nitro was looking for another A.F.I. A.F.I. went major and they were looking for another Misfits-style band. And it sucked cause at 19 I thought we were the greatest band in the world and I didn’t even know what I was talking about. They put us in the studio on the basis that we were going to be a speed punk band, which we were. We were hard and fast. We got in the studio and they wanted a minute-and-a-half punk rock songs. I gave them a 43 minute, 14-song album that they paid for and they said ‘it’s unreleaseable.’ I was like, ‘what are you talking about? This is great.’ They said it wasn’t gonna happen. It’s still shelved. They own the record until 2019. It’s a standard record contract. We signed our life away for a $10,000 advance which went straight up my nose, and then when I came to it at 24, I was like ‘Fuck, what happened?’ By then I was drumming in The Lebowskis and touring America and Canada and never made any money. The Strikeouts made money. It sucked, because I got the taste of it when I was too young to get it. We had someone paying for everything, and I was living off of that. They gave me money to pay my rent. And like I said, I had a bag of coke and life was good.
You went to rehab for it right?
Twice. Once my parents made me go, and then once I went and thought it was gonna work myself, and the first thing I did when I got out was buy a bag (of coke). I did heroin, too, and I didn’t like it because it slowed me down. I liked uppers.
What’s toning you down now? I see you drink these days and that’s about all. What’s brought you back, and you’re working, you have a college degree and it got you a good job.
I got a good job ’cause I moved here to be with my girl and I didn’t want to be a scumbag! (laughs). I was on tour with The Lebowskis, and I met Lizzie, and moved to Youngstown, and I don’t know a dealer to be completely honest with you. If I knew someone that could get me drugs right now I would do it (laughs)! No. Heroin creeped me out. I didn’t shoot my arms, I shot my toes because I didn’t want to look like some junkie. And all my heroes are heroin addicts, and they’re all dead. I moved out here, and used my degree to get a job. I mean, I’d rather be 19, 20 doing drugs and doing everything I was doing, but ehh … maybe not (laughs).
Do you still think it’s possible to be a rock ‘n roller and be successful in the states, realistically?
No. I always tell everybody, punk rock, rock ‘n’ roll, it’s all a double-edged sword. When I was growing up, it was the best and worst thing to happen to me. When I was 19, you know, you’d go out Friday night and get a sixer and act like a f*cking idiot, and then drugs kinda got put into that, and it was like, ‘man, we’re all f*cked up.’ But at the end of the day, I don’t know anything. If it’s not this, what else am I gonna do? I came out to Youngstown and it’s so much different from what I’m used to because it’s so centralized. You got bands like The Zou, you got bands like Robbie Jay Band, which are a bunch of Affliction T-shirt wearin’ whatever (Ed. note: tape goes inaudible for a moment as Beau goes on rant and bartender comes by with another round), and you know, I love Pete Drivere, but you know, Pete’s gone elsewhere. I don’t know what to do. Like, I drum in First in Space who sound like the f*cking Replacements. I like The Replacements, but I never thought I’d play in a band like The Replacements. So I come out here, and no one wants to play, no one wants to do any shows. I end up doing acoustic shows, and I end up feeling like an idiot and have to stop doing it because people started to expect this big show, pull a knife out, get into a fight. I stopped carrying guns when I moved here because Lizzie was freaked out. If I had a gun on certain nights I probably would’ve shot someone. I don’t know. For sh*t in the States, it’s f*cked. Nobody gets it. Nobody’s touring. There’s no good bands, the economy’s f*cked. The best f*cking show was the Turbo Lovers show (laughs) and I just started playing in your band, like, what the f*ck? First in Space, I been playing with them for two years and the shows have been f*cking terrible. Two years and it’s terrible. I show up and hide in the corner, and then I go home and watch “What We Do Is Secret,” the movie about The Germs, and I’m like, ‘Where’s all the violence?’ I’m like, I come here (The Royal Oaks), some guy grabs my throat, I knock him into the bathroom, I was like ‘yeah.’ For a hot second I felt alright. And then everybody’s like, ‘What are you doing? Don’t fight.’ Where I come from man, that’s hard. I came here with that murder capital assumption. So I go down to Cedars and everyone is like, ‘oh no, don’t do that.’ I’m like, ‘put your hands up, let’s go.’ Everybody kept saying all this hardcore sh*t about Youngstown – whatever. Where I come from, if a fight’s one on one you back up and it’s a fair fight. If someone goes down then you can pull people apart. I’ve had my assed kicked so many times I can’t even count. It did feel good to play a rock show, though. I got lumped in with that Darby Crash, G.G. Allin thing, and I talk sh*t on stage, and nobody likes that. I played Japan, I’ve played everywhere. I’m alright, You don’t gotta candy coat it for me. Pete Drivere was in the Dead Boys for a hot minute. People in Youngstown should be talking about that. The Dead Boys rule. ‘That’s Pete Drivere he used be in the Dead Boys!’ I mean, what the f*ck? No one gets it. I hate Youngstown man. I talk to my friends in Harrisburg, and we try a little harder. Instead of like one or two bands out here that draw, there’s like 20 there. So your sh*t has to be good or everybody would be like ‘f*ck you.’ I moved out here, and I was like who can I play with? And Lizzie was like ‘Hellvis, but I think they’re singer is in jail (laughs).’ I was like f*ck it, I’ll play in it!
Okay, word association time. I’ll say a venue or band or something else and you give me your immediate thoughts.
The city of Youngstown – F*ckin’ terrible. No shows, nowhere to play. I want punk rock, I want danger.
Cedars – Pete Drivere. They kicked me out. That Mara girl, she ended up patching it up like it wasn’t my fault. It was my fault. I mean the bouncer was a dick, but I didn’t have to pull a knife on him. Cedars is everything that’s wrong with Youngstown. I mean, they put on all these shows, there’s too many bands they let play there, they don’t filter it, and they wonder why the scene is terrible. They wonder why there is no f*cking scene and no one plays there anymore. They got a f*cking swing night. What the f*ck is that about? And they got shows on Friday and Saturday, and poor Pete’s gotta go down there and listen to that sh*t. And put this in there, I know Pete hates it but he’ll never say it because he’s getting money out of it. F*ck that.
The Royal Oaks – They at least let rock ‘n’ roll and punk rock bands play which is cool.
First in Space – The most underrated band ever. If Johnny (Stanec) would act like Paul Westerberg we’d be huge. We shouldn’t be too worried about making everybody happy. We can’t get 20 people out to see us in Youngstown and it’s bullsh*t. It’s the best band musically I’ve ever played in. Everybody goes, ‘oh you’re tight.’ – which is band lingo for, ‘you’re good, but we don’t like it.’ We do well out of town for the most part, but not being able to play where you live sucks.
Johnie 3 – They’re getting it. ‘Sex Bomb’ is definitely a step in the right direction. They don’t like me ’cause I stole their girl. Myke’s getting’ it. His look is getting better. Jay’s not acting like such a c*cksucker. They need to put Stiv Reynolds in the band full time because it makes them better. Loud, fast…
– There is no rock scene. There never has been one. You have Pete Drivere sucking everybody’s c*ck so they come out and see The Infidels. You got Robbie Jay Band. And f*ck Pete Drivere and the Pretty Demons. It’s your band, Pete. Don’t hide behind names. F*ck Pete. Put this in there. Cause Pete will get it. He’s a rocker, and I think he understands where I’m coming from when I talk this shit. It’s funny. All these bands go down to Cedars and it’s like a f*cking click. It’s like high school. I hated high school. It wasn’t for rock ‘n’ roll. Everybody wants to be into art and theater. There is no art and theater in Youngstown. I did art and theater in college. No one is doing anything. I come to the Oaks and everyone just leaves me alone, they’re like ‘F*ck, there’s this fucking guy.’ F*ck Youngstown. F*ck The Robbie Jay Band. F*ck The Kellys and their bullshit from outside of town. F*ck Pete Drivere, even though I love him to death. With punk rock, you know you’re gonna talk shit. Are you willing to take a punch for it? You could hit me with a f*cking’ brick. Youngstown is a f*cking sh*thole. I don’t know what to say. If I would’ve done this interview in Harrisburg, I’d be f*cking dead. I don’t know, maybe people will be pissed (about the interview), but I don’t care. I just want rock to be dangerous for a hot minute again. I want it to be exciting. I mean, come on. It just sucks now. But like I said, I’m a c*cksucker. Whatever man. Let’s get another drink.
