(A rock and roll cautionary tale)
This is the story of four musicians from Livermush, Ohio, Mick, Mickey, Mikey, and Earl (who was a girl).
It was 1983.
They all worked at Arby’s together during their senior year of high school. As they refilled the horsey sauce containers late at night they would talk and dream about being rock stars. They formed a band and practiced in Earl the Girl’s parent’s garage.
Mickey suggested the name the Meatsweats after an unfortunate incident with some bad salami.
They started out with a most noble musical pursuit, they just wanted to make some savory dance music.
But fame, hurt feelings, and a lack of proper refrigeration can spoil rock and roll dreams.
Their first gig was May 24th, 1983 at the Spare Rib Bowling Alley.
They were good, they begin to get some attention and actually started to get paid for serving up saucy songs.
They became big in their small town.
Then things started to heat up.
They played state fairs and butcher shops all over the Midwest. It was while they were playing at the Big Tex steak house in Goatlick, Indiana that an unsuccessful fry cook named Sloppy Joe McWorcestershire heard them play. He cooked up a deal with them on the spot and became their manager. Somehow, he managed to get the Meatsweats signed to Big Veal Records.
They recorded one album, “Meet the Meatsweats”, which featured their one big hit, “Pastrami, You are no friend of mine.”
BIG things began to simmer for the Meatsweats.
Their video was in regular rotation on MTV and the food network.
Earl was voted Bob Appetit Magazine’s most popular girl drummer in 1985.
Mickey the bass player started a very shortly lived fashion trend: the sesame seed man bun.
But success was a slow burn.
And like many medium rare bands before them, the Meatsweats weren’t ready for it.
Their dreams were toast.
Several factors contributed to the band’s greasy demise…
Mick the lead singer viewed himself as a serious artist. He only wanted to write and perform depressing ballads about burnt brisket. That became the first step in the band’s undoing. You can’t dance to a dirge about overdone barbecue. People wanted peppy music about bacon.
Mick also got a girlfriend, Tofu Ohno, this broke Earl’s heart. She had had a secret crush on Mick since 8th grade even though he treated her like spoiled braunschweiger. Tofu converted Mick to vegetarianism, driving an irreparable wedge between him and the band.
The Meatsweats developed a beef with each other.
Suddenly, they couldn’t be in the same room together without some gristle.
The final blow to the band came on November 9th, 1986 when Mikey (the quiet one) stole a Gyro truck in Porkroll, New Jersey. Witnesses said that he had a half basted look on his face as he hopped in the truck and shouted “I’m jumping off the hot plate now!” And then he drove over the East Porkroll bridge. He was never seen or heard from again.
All of these factors ground up the Meatsweats like yesterday’s sausage.
There was no second hit, no sophomore album, just the pungent smell of what might have been.
Today…
The Meatsweats have gone their separate ways like a loose meat sandwich…
Mick plays disco cover tunes at the Holiday Inn lounge in downtown Livermush. He and Tofu split up long ago. He is no longer vegan.
Mickey met a nice girl named Patty. They married and settled down in Ribeye, Texas, where he manages the Golden Corral.
Earl became a gifted songwriter and poet. She had a bestselling book “My name is Earl, I am a Girl”. She lives in upstate New York where in her spare time she likes to garden.
The morale of the story is clear as beef stew…
Life can grill you. It can burn you. It can leave you fried.
It’s really a bunch of Bologna!
You have to stay out of the skillet.
Don’t forget who your friends are.
Don’t lose your flavor.
Don’t stop the music.
carbonated joy 