Thursday, August 2, 2007

The Bogg Rolls (1976 – 78)

Isn't it strange what you think about to pass the time on the loo? Like inventing toilet paper themed garage bands from the 70's, including their complete back catalogue. Or is that just me?


Vocals/Guitar: 4Pac
Bass: Andy Rex
Guitar: Val Vett
Drums: Charmin’ Al O'Fearah

Formed in the Fall of 1976 in Shittaus, Nebraska by school friends 4Pac and Andy Rex, The Bogg Rolls quickly built a reputation for raw, high energy live shows. Audiences were blown away by their fusion of power pop chords and country and often pelted the stage with toilet rolls – thought to be the inspiration behind punk audiences spitting in the UK. Sony A&R man, Mick Nouvelle was sufficiently impressed at a Shittaus homecoming gig, and drew up a contract there and then on a sheet of toilet paper. Nouvelle’s enthusiasm wasn’t to be shared and The Bogg Rolls were largely ignored by the record buying public. It wasn’t until the gospel tinged single Soft (And Strong) that they made any impact on the charts, reaching Number 37 in the last week of February 1977. Keen to capitalise on the success of Soft (And Strong) they rushed out live favourite Don’t Run Out On Me Now, which proved too much of a departure for fans of its sugar-coated predecessor. Pressure from Sony resulted in their only album, the prophetically titled Down the Pan. Of the eleven tracks, only the saccharine, Andy Rex penned The Last Sheet charted, climbing to Number 56 in the August of 1977. Disheartened and disillusioned by public apathy 4Pac released a series of vitriolic solo singles through his own label, Loose Stools. These included Everything is Poo and My Shite Life. Alienated from fans and the band he formed, 4Pac put a double barrelled shotgun to his anus and took his own life on 2nd May, 1978. A suicide note written on a double-ply tissue was found nearby, but it had absorbed so much blood the writing was rendered illegible. Without their inspirational leader The Bogg Rolls disbanded and drifted into obscurity. Commenting from his home in 1990, Andy Rex said, “If only we’d had a number two things might have worked out different.”