Pool Party's Creep Guirdo Admits "Crocs Are Shoes," Releases New Seven-Inch
South Florida is no stranger to the summertime shenanigans of a quad of deranged eternal teenagers the Icelandic press once proclaimed "greater than the touch of God between your legs." But who are, rather, what is Pool Party? A prolific rock 'n' roll power combo for sure. Eighty-degree-weather-clad young men? Yes. Enigmas wrapped within the overpartied carcass of a mystery? Why not?
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If anything, Pool Party has long represented the idea, theory, and execution of fun. How it managed to convince Chicago's Mooster Records to pony up hard currency to satisfy its recording whims will not be fully explained within these digital pages, but singer, Svengali, and, at times, road-rash manager Creep Guirdo did find a little time in his busy schedule to discuss the band and give us some advice.
New Times: Would you say that you can have a pool without a party or even, in that same vein, a party without a pool?
Creep Guirdo: A pool without a party barely qualifies as a puddle. While you shouldn't have a party without a pool, you can. And this is how to: Strip down as seminude as you feel comfortable, keep your Chucks on, ingest everything and everyone in sight, set three boomboxes to play the first three Ramones LPs simultaneously, and you'll be having a pool-free pool party in no time. Well, not "no time"; it'll take about 30 minutes.
I had the opportunity or, rather, the medical condition, that required an MRI last year. You've described your personal experience in the past as something not as medical, but more "time machine-y." You've also claimed that in the future, "everybody" wears shoes. All I fucking saw were sandals; what gives?
As much as I hate to admit it, sandals are shoes. Crocs are shoes too. I know it's messed-up. It's wrong, it's offensive, but people get away with it.
There is a wild theory circulating within local journalistic circles that Pool Party "stole" anywhere between 95 and 127 percent of the late, great Barry White's undiscovered back catalog. How do you feel about these allegations, and what is your non-legal-counsel-advised retort on that?
We're going to reference -- as we always do -- Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, 510 U.S. 569 (1994). It states, explicitly and clearly, if you use music to make a party of it, no one can sue you. We'd like to thank 2 Live Crew for laying down the long hard law on that one for us.
There's a seven-inch and a CD. If you could tell the ladies right now, what makes seven inches of recycled Jamaican wax a much better option than a shiny five-inch slab of retro-fabulous dead technology?
It's the ladies who tell our bassist Dick Dumb that they love his nine inches the best. They do stuff to him, like "this is great; it's like more inches than normal." So using the "bigger penis is better than smaller penis" logic, bigger record is better than smaller record. And when the ladies say, "Oh, yeah, it's not the size of the disc that matters; it's the amount of megabytes it stores," they are lying.