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which John Freeman (Uncle Sloppy) was been
involved in during his illustrious Denton career.
Dooms UK was comprised of a gaggle of very
talented folks that the master puppeteer
orchestrated into this wonderful selection of
tunes. So I can say a lot of things about John
Freeman, but instead I’ll just tell this story … John
was driving out to my house which at the time was
located in the suburbs of Dallas. If you know
John, then you know what I’m talking about when I
say he is a one man freak show (John has “many-
o” tics which manifests in quirky body movements
as well as verbal outbursts) John is driving this
beat up piece of junk across Dallas in the Texas
heat, and by the time he hits the suburbs, the
radiator is steaming. He pulls into a gas station
near the house to get more water for his car –
meanwhile a bunch of redneck college frat boys
have pulled into the station with their jet ski on a
trailer behind their behemoth flat bed truck. The
tanned frats are drunk from spending the whole
day out in the Texas sun (which is insane) riding
their jet ski on the lake. They are just ripe for
some bullying, one idgit climbs on the docked jet
ski, and raises his cowboy hat yelling “yee-haw”,
mocking a bull rider, when it happens … one of
the hillbillies gets wind of John who by now is “tic-
ing” away under the duress of the situation. John
can’t seem to get the radiator cap on/off without a
whole lot of spontaneous body spasms (none of
which are under his control) – the moron at the
pump swings around and with his arm out straight
points and yells to his good ole boys, “LOOK, he’
s on drugs!!!” At this point everyone who is at
the busy gas station, stops what they are doing
and stares at John. John being the only sane
person in the vicinity, knows by now this could be
either a dangerous situation or something to be
laughed at later, so with good sense, John slams
the hood down and jumps into his car barreling
off to his destination.
Anywhoo, sit back and enjoy what is the
greatness of the Dooms UK.
Heavy mettle
Bless 'em, Dooms U.K. make art for Art Rock's sake
By Robert Wilonsky
Article Published Sep 10, 1998
Music Details
John Freeman was here yesterday, picking up Blue Oyster Cult CDs; today, he browses Borders' bargain bins and
fingers a couple of Hawkwind discs, cut to half price. This is how Freeman likes to spend his time, skipping through
the dustbins of history--surely there's something in here he can use.
Walking through a record store with him--even a Borders in Lewisville, where alternative means Shania Twain
instead of Trisha Yearwood--is like strolling through a supermarket with your grandmother as she picks up fruit,
smells it, squeezes it, then sets it back down with her nose scrunched up in disgust. Only Freeman looks for
produce that's been in the bins for decades; nothing is too ripe, or too rotten, for this rock-and-roll hero.
The first record Freeman bought, as far as he can remember, was Styx's 1978 album Pieces of Eight. He recalls
the purchase with affection, like someone talking about a first love; even now, 20 years later, Freeman won't bad-
mouth the almost unlistenable disc, which features among its collection of bombastic tracks "Renegade" and
"Lords of the Rings." Then again, Freeman's not the kind of guy who passes judgment on such records; one
culture's trash is another man's treasure, and Freeman is capable of extracting genius out of the most reviled pop-
culture detritus.
Indeed, during his mid-'80s days at Booker T. Washington School for the Performing Arts, Freeman discovered
the prog-rock of the 1970s, and never once did he find it within himself to make fun of groups long since written off
as pretentious, grandiose, ridiculous. To him, their music was brand-new, exquisite, bigger than life, capable of
encompassing everything "rock and roll" had to offer.
"By the time I started listening to progressive rock," he says, "I was too much into it to make fun of it. Maybe if I had
heard it when I was younger, I might have made fun of it. I'm just lucky I didn't go to a regular high school, because
I think it probably would have been uncool to listen to Yes."
A decade after graduating from high school, Freeman now fronts his own brilliant prog-rock band, Dooms U.K.--
and yes, at its core, the Dooms are very, well, progressive. Any band that opens its second record, the brand-new
Art-Rock Explosion! (art-rock, prog-rock--it's all semantics, anyway), with an eight-minute song titled "Japanimation
Nation" that leaps from bombastic Rock Guitar riffing to swelling vocals to keyboard roars to turntable scratches to
Spanish vocals is indeed progressive. It's downright fanatical.
But to call the Dooms "prog" is to summon the worst sort of fatuous, grotesque rock and roll--at least as far as its
detractors are concerned. Prog-rock has long been the genre's whipping-boy, a description summoned forth to
dismiss ambitious, large-scale rock and roll. Where pop was once the derisive term of choice, suddenly prog has
become the pejorative. Even its biggest fans can't avoid defending the music before celebrating it: In his 1996
history of the genre, The Music's All That Matters, British author Paul Stump admits that prog "seethes with ordure,
groans with junk" before insisting that it "contains some of rock and pop's most glittering inspirations."
If nothing else, the Dooms U.K. prove that prog is alive and relevant after all these years. They rescue the genre
from the history books and the dung heaps, proving unflinching ambition tempered with sincere passion results in
music that lasts beyond any nostalgic smile they might elicit when they render Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" into a
ska tune (on 1995's debut Greasy Listening) or bury the title track from Grease (featured on the new disc)
beneath so much inspired distortion and avant-skronk.
Since the early '90s, when Freeman began performing on local stages under myriad names (solo as the Dutch
Treats, on and off as Duck Duck Annihilation! and the Meat Helmets, and with the rotating amalgam that has
become the current lineup of Dooms U.K.), he has embraced the notion that progressive rock simply means rock
and roll that is all-inclusive. It's the heaviest of metal and the lightest of pop, sincerity hiding behind an indulgent
smile, rock and roll masquerading as performance art. Freeman and his band of merry men live in a world where
Krokus, Steely Dan, Styx, Journey, Rush, early Genesis, and Blue Oyster Cult get played on the radio. They're
grown men not so much stuck in the past but ignoring the fact that there's a calendar at all--every tomorrow is a
yesterday, every yesterday is a today. And everything is fair game.
"The whole reason we started the band in the first place is anything we wanted to do, we could just do it," he says.
"We wouldn't say, 'No, we can't do that 'cause we're a country band, and we can't do that 'cause we're a free-jazz
band. We'd say, 'We can do country and free-jazz, because we're an art-rock band, and that encompasses
everything.'"
For years, the Dooms were a sort of revolving-door of Dallas and Denton's most eclectic and talented musicians.
The band has long been a sort of magnet for musos looking for a chance to play anything and everything without
having their tastes scoffed at by their peers. The band that appears on Art-Rock Explosion! is its most solid, long-
lasting roster--though even then, some changes have been made since the record was completed. Dave Seiden,
who played guitar and Moog on the disc, has since been replaced by James Henderson--who plays bass and
keyboards on Art-Rock Explosion!. Matt Pence, the drummer on the album, has since been replaced by Eric
Eisenmann; Dave Wallin also has been added on guitar. Other than that (whew), the lineup remains the same:
Freeman on vocals, Ian Bjornstad on guitar and sax, Corbett Sparks (who prefers D.J. Geeky C) on samples, and
Jon Cunningham on keyboards and accordion.
"It's just really strange how we came together," Sparks says. "James Henderson, for instance, I used to live with
him, and he would be at our shows, and I never thought he would be interested in coming in. He just asked one
night, and he just started, and he's totally, totally into it now."
Cunningham--best known as Corn Mo, he of the glamorous blond poodle locks and the Kevin Von Erich arena-
rocker homage "Shine On, Golden Warrior"--joined in 1994, without knowing much about the band and its history
and intentions. Cunningham, who had grown up in Kentucky and San Antonio adoring Kenny Rogers and Christian
metal band Stryper and the likes of Van Halen and Mstley CrYe, had simply heard the band was looking for an
accordion player; having since split from his partner, Mauve Oed, Cunningham was free to sign up. Had he not
joined the Dooms, Cunningham says, he might well have turned into "Tiny Tim looking like Tommy Shaw."
"I didn't really know them that well," Cunningham says. "John was melting a plastic spoon outside Bruce Hall [on
the University of North Texas campus], and I thought, 'That guy's fucking weird.' He was hosting a Bruce Hall jam,
playing by himself, and he said, 'Who likes Stryper and Rush? Raise your hand.' I did, and then I realized he was
making fun of me. I had heard about him through the girl I was dating. I saw one Dooms show, but I was real drunk
when I saw it."
Now, Freeman and Cunningham are almost inseparable; you can't think of one without the other--both tap dance
on the line separating the bizarre from the genius. Both men refer to the Dooms as something more than just a
mere band: Freeman calls it a "secret society"; Cunningham, a "collective." Both mention wanting to make more
than albums. They talk of the desire to make films, of writing a rock opera based on the life of Howard Hughes (it
would be titled Goosed!), of staging elaborate pranks. The Dooms is more than a band--it's a lifestyle, a scheme,
an ongoing performance that takes place no matter the setting. Live, they're the funniest band in town--but also
one of the finest, pretending the smallest club in Denton is the largest stadium in the world. Rare is the night when
Freeman doesn't don a costume, bite into a blood tablet, and rock your world as the Dark Messiah.
Perhaps, in the end, that's what separates the Dooms from any other band in town: They have a mission beyond
playing some shithole on a Saturday night for free drink tickets and a few lousy bucks. The band's members have
created a whole fake history for Dooms U.K. revealed in the Freeman-penned liner notes inside Greasy Listening
and expanded upon in Art-Rock Explosion!. According to this history, the Dooms are a "rock band" in name and
deed only; they're actually a "splinter faction of the Freemasons" who greet each other with a secret handshake
and hand signals (including the MONKEY-CHUM). "The members' true strength lies in the usual secret society
activities of controlling world governments, political assassinations, and putting on really bad-ass puppet shows.
Go watch the 'rock group' and scoff if you will. But if you see the 'MONKEY-CHUM' on stage tonight, don't be
surprised if the price of gas goes up in the morning."
"I think the eventual goal is this power group--not a band--of people at the controls of pop culture," Cunningham
says. "I would like us to do movies together, and there's one idea where we're all superheroes and D.J. Geeky C
has five arms. We want to do the teenage romp movie, which would be a total tribute to the movies with the blond
asshole with the sweater around his neck. We want to go as far as we can with as much financing as we can. It's
not limited at all. It's sort of Mason-like."
That said, Art Rock Explosion!--which was recorded over a four-year period yet sounds as though it was done in
one take--is also a brilliant record. It's a bigger, badder, leaner, and ultimately better album than Greasy Listening.
There's more music on this record than in most record stores' bins, and trying to describe Art Rock is like trying to
count the grains of sand in a Coke bottle. It's a genre unto itself, each song starting out as one thing and ending
up as 15 other things; and always, Freeman sings in that squeaky-high voice of his, sounding like Geddy Lee on
helium. "Going Steady" might well be a catchy pop song, but its chorus devolves into a montage of keyboard
tweaks and car-crash explosions; "(I'm a) God Walkin'" does metal-rap with more savvy than anything Korn could
ever imagine; "Skyscraper 3-D" is a talking lounge ("the sun cut through me like a hot knife through a warm bowl o'
chutney"); "Golden Shower" might be the damnedest power ballad ever recorded; and the closer, "Melody and
Harmony," kind of sums up the entire record as a sort of Meco-meets-The-Who disco-ambient-trash wrap-up.
It would be too easy to dismiss Dooms U.K. as an art-rock parody; with songs like "Heather Has Two Mommies,"
"Licking 4 Jesus," and "Cum Play with My Kitty," it's hard not to. But to do so would imply they are in it for the
cheap laughs, that they think themselves above the music they play. Theirs is not a comedy routine with guitars.
They perform Night Ranger's "Sister Christian" or Journey's "Open Arms" with a straight face because to do so is
almost revolutionary. Anyone can screw up those songs, play them loud, turn such refuse into laffer travesties. But
to play it straight, to be sincere about rescuing rubbish, is to defy convention; it's to risk being laughed at when all
you want is to be smiled with.
"That is very important to us--the one thing we don't want to be is a novelty," Freeman says. "A lot of people think
you can't have music that's funny without it being a joke, and that's totally not true. Frank Zappa is a classic
example. He's right up there with 'musically valid rock,' but some of it's so hilarious you laugh all the way through it.
I don't think music has to be serious to be valid. I mean, there are wacky parts of 'Japanimation Nation,' but it's not
even like a parody.
"Just because you do something in a style that most people think is nostalgic and bygone doesn't mean it's not
relevant. Just because we don't live in 1972 doesn't mean we can't play like we're in Genesis in 1972."
To which Sparks adds, very simply: "It's pretty much from the heart
http://50waystoloseyourliver.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_50waystoloseyourliver_archive.html
John Freeman. One-man Rock Assault!
An extremely late Merry Freakin' Christmas to all you unwashed masses! And Happy New Year while I'm at it. It's
about time I paid tribute to a man that you are probably famliar with if you live in the DFW area, and pay attention
to local undergound music. If you don't live here you might have heard of some of his bands, and since relocating
to New York a few years back he's taken to spreading his disease there as well. He's had a buncha these "groups"
but some include: The Dooms U.K., The Dutch Treats, The Meat Helmets, The Cockouts, The Psychos, Duck
Duck Annihilation, Telethon, Danza, Alan Parson's Projectile, The Delicious Bulls, Pink Mistake, The Golden
Vipers, and The Thrilling Chilling Sounds of the Haunted House. John Freeman (also known as Johnny Murder,
Uncle Sloppy, etc.) started out as simply "The Dooms" when he wrote a set of songs about Emmanuel Lewis,
Patrick Swayze, Chewbacca, and other noteable subjects to be performed with his own guitar accompaniment at a
friends's party in Denton, Texas. He soon had a band that seemed to start out with the intention of being a "rap
and roll" band (mind you this was the early '90's). They quickly evolved into a more experimental beast that came
to full fruition with the release of the now classic album Greasy Listening. Though truly a band, it is widely
accepted that John was the "brains" behind the group, writing the lyrics and forging the direction in which they
would head. His songs inhabit a world I can truly relate to; equal parts Bad T.V. and Pop Culture, Dungeons and
Dragons, Punk/Metal, Extreme Sarcasm, Ernest Borgnine and a encyclopedic knowledge of Rock and Roll both
good and bad. The word genius gets tossed around a lot these days so let me throw this fools name into the ring.
(Robert Wilonksy said nearly the same thing in this weeks Dallas Observer, but I wrote this before I saw that rag.)
In addition to making music this Super-Nova is a cartoonist, writer, actor/voice over dude and Nanny to the stars.
His comics are really funny, and drawn in his trademark jittery style, and though I'm most familiar with his writing via
his song lyrics, what little else I've read was very well done. I have witnessed a "performance" of one of his plays,
and the name escapes me but it took place at a science fiction/comic book convention in the '80's. Needless to
say...It was a gut-blasting riot. Watching him perform live is the best way to get a feel (if you know what I mean) for
his whole shtick, as he is an amazing improvisational comedian. I guess a large part of his appeal is that he is
literally one of the funniest people ever to grace this world, and I can't undertand why he isn't at least as well
known as any of those Blue Collar Comedy tour guys or Ruth Buzzie. I didn't make it up to Dan's Silverleaf in
Denton for his only DFW appearance this year last night but I can only imagine there were smiles, and lots of
bodily fluids all around.
I'll never forget the time I was treated to a very intimate solo performance of "Waterfalls" by TLC in my truck during
a run I took John on to retrieve his guitar to play some keg party, or the time he scared an army of zoned-out
hippies by opening the Fry Street Fair with the song "Hippies". (basically a rallying cry for the death of that type of
hairy person.) The Dooms U.K. realeased one more album enititled Art Rock Explosion which documents the later
Dooms fairly well. I love both discs for different reasons, but if you want a little taste you can check out some of
these links:
http://www.polypop.com/comix/freeman/
John Freeman Bio
by John Freeman
Uncle Sloppy was born in 1971 in Shreveport, Louisiana. Home of papermills and hatred. In 1973 he moved to
Dallas and began a long, fruitful relationship with the field of “art.” When he was 11 he was diagnosed with
Tourette’s syndrome ( The barking, yelling and obscenities disease ), this forced him to defend himself against
“bullies” with the only weapon at his command: the weapon of love.
At age 12, he began taking acting classes at the local theater slowly being conditioned to be as loud, obnoxious
and insecure as possible. This came to a “head” when he attended Arts Magnet High School; a “Fame”-esque
place where half the day was filled with regular high school classes and the other half was filed with “art.” After
graduation he moved to Denton under the pretense of attending the University of North Texas. There he started
the first in a seemingly endless series of bands: the main two being the Dooms U.K. and the Dutch Treats. A
tentative Belgian tour fell through forcing Uncle Sloppy to resort to his first love, comix. To become world famous
and squelch once and for all that lingering, nagging yet mostly unfounded suspicion that “nobody likes me.”
In August 2001, Uncle Sloppy went to New York for a 3 week vacation. He is still there, feeling very lucky that he
once again works in an office that has access to a free photocopier; allowing him to distribute his "art" on a larger
scale than ever before. He now divides his time between drawing comix, playing Rock, and making sweet, sweet
love to all the ladies he can find...