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"I wanted to put it on my album Whereabouts Unknown, but everybody said, 'No, no, no,'" Nixon says in a tone quivering with exaggerated fear. "They all said, 'We ain't crazy like you, Mojo. We ain't burnin' all our bridges and peein' on them. No, no.' So I said fine, I'll fight this battle later. But it showed up on the advanced cassettes--and not even where I had it on the record. The gods of courage snuck it on there. Now, some people said, 'Mojo, you did that yourself.' Well, I wish I was smart enough to think of that, but I'm not that sneaky."
Today, Nixon is as opinionated as ever when discussing Geffen and the tired groups he and his peers at other major labels continue to foist on the public. "It's pitiful," he spits. "P-i-t-t-i-f-u-l-l--or however you spell it. I mean, there's lots of good bands, and every town's probably got at least one. But David Geffen wants to spend $100 million on Aerosmith again, and I already heard all that. I drank the bong water, and I heard rock over and over and over. I say take that money and give fifty new bands $2 million each. But no, it's all bean-countin', money and greed-head stuff. Good music is lost in the equation. There are good bands out there, like the New Duncan Imperials and Southern Culture on the Skids [which records on, believe it or not, the Geffen imprint], but they're not who you read about.
"The problem is," he adds, "that now, with things being more and more consolidated, either you sell thirteen million records or you sell fifty thousand. There's no minor leagues, no middle ground anymore. Pretty soon there's going to be just two record companies--one making large, ugly records, and one making giant, stupid records. And all of them will be owned by some secret Chinese tong."
Until that day comes, Nixon and his Toadliquors plan to stay on the road, where they can be found about six months out of the year. For his latest return to Denver, Nixon promises a show that's "pro-drinkin', pro-fornicatin' and pro-legalization. And if any of those damn right-wing survivalists want to come down there, we'll take 'em on one at a time, round for round and pound for pound, and we'll kick their little Christian-cult butts.
"Part of what I'm doing is celebratin' the weird and the wonderful in this world," he goes on. "But I'm also putting the magnifying glass on the ugliness of the giant hypocrites and the big lie-meisters who go on TV and tell us this highly polished turd doesn't smell like shit when it does. See, they think that if they say it long enough and hard enough and then get Michael Jordan and McDonald's involved, you know, we might just roll over. Well, I'm here to make sure that we don't."
Mojo Nixon and the Toadliquors. 9 p.m. Friday, March 14, Ogden Theatre, 935 East Colfax, $8, 830-2525 or 1-800-444-