Allmusic says “Teenage Head was the Groovies’ alternate-universe version of Sticky Fingers, an album that delivered their toughest rock & roll beside their most introspective blues workouts. (In his liner notes to Buddha’s 1999 CD reissue of Teenage Head, Andy Kotowicz writes that Mick Jagger noticed the similarities between the two albums and thought the Groovies did the better job.)” Teenage Head is listed in the 2006 book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.

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We saw Nashville Pussy several times in the late 90′s, all unforgettable shows. The first time was at O’Cayz in Madison and holy shit, mind blown insanity: bassist Corey Parks was still in the band and scared the crap out of the crowd in the small club with her signature fire breathing act. Probably a few months later we saw them play in Green Bay at some warehouse-y venue, likely now gone, and my friends and I spent much of the show distracted by a very large girl with a teeny tiny Hello Kitty backpack who danced maniacally and allegedly hooked up with Parks after the show. [Hilarious to me sidenote: a year or so later, Hello Kitty girl was one of the manicurists doing nails for those same friends before my wedding.] [I did not tell Hello Kitty girl about the Nashville Pussy connection.] We attended another concert in Milwaukee at Shank Hall (notable for its Spinal Tap association). Which is all a long way around to when we saw Nashville Pussy open for Motorhead at The Rave – the only time I saw Lemmy play live. Perfect pairing of bands for noise, debauchery and growling speed. The Rave’s acoustics suck, so badly that singer/guitarist Blaine Cartwright stopped NP’s performance to scream “What’s that noise??!! What’s that fucking noise? Does everyone hear that?” It was the sound of another band playing in another area of the club, its music bleeding through the walls. [Someone in the audience said it was barroom country rockers Commander Cody of “Hot Rod Lincoln” fame, but I think that may have just been a coverup for the awful acoustics because I have a really hard time believing that CC could match, much less overpower, the brute aural fury of NP.] Cartwright, pissed as hell, offered free tickets to audience members the next time NP played Milwaukee. We never took him up on that offer. Motorhead, surprisingly, were much more congenial to the shitty sound, or drunk enough to just not care.

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