Born on the very day that Jimi Hendrix died, Remy Maxwell was destined for greatness. But mediocrity would have to do. Raised on a farm in South Louisiana by free-spirited freaks, Remy was inundated with music from day one.
Weaned on a healthy diet of Zeppelin, Elton John, The Beatles, Joni Mitchell (no, not Ween … they weren’t born yet) and the like wafting from the speakers in the trees, Joni and Elton were quickly replaced by Nugent and KISS, which provided an effortless transition to Van Halen, Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth, Pantera, Alice in Chains, Janes Addiction and TOOL to name but a few.
Finally, the impressionable youth’s life calling was made apparent! Since that lucrative gig as an exterminator didn’t pan out, Remy spent his formative years playing in bands in New Orleans, Orlando, and Los Angeles. That never blew up into rock-star-size proportions, so a life behind the mic bouncin’ off the walls doin’ a show on the radio would have to suffice.
During a brief two-year interlude in L.A., he engineered records for such luminaries as Motörhead, Great White, Blind Melon, Irene Cara (FAME, baby!), Keith Sweat (pullin’ jailbait waaay before R.Kelly), and Gerardo. After stints at the ground-breaking KNAC and KLOS in Southern California, the allure of monster mosquitos in the summer and sub-zero ice fishing temperatures in the winter became too tough to ignore. Remy packed up his Harleys, DVD collection, and rolling wet bar and landed in Minneapolis, where he has reigned as rock radio’s premiere “Dirtbag Dujour” for almost a decade.
And SPEAKIN’ of movies, I haven’t been THIS excited to see one since Operation Dumbo Drop…
Who’s up for a movie?
Sounds like somebody’s been listenin’ some ’90s-era Marilyn Manson…
They’ve come a long way from Kara’s Flowers, wouldn’t you say?
Another chance for you to get your “I SAW BRET MICHAELS!” card punched…
Brandon Boyd was an early Man Bun prognosticator, and I’ll continue to hold that against him for years to come
More Rock n’Roll Hall of Famer BANG for yo BUCK!
Austin hipsters REJOICE!
Ready for a parking lot ’90s resurgence?
That’s it–I’m gonna organize an official Man Bun Ban, the worst fashion trend for dudes since fanny packs…