Odd fellows

Misfits figures and Shaggs tunes

"The Misfits -- are they one of our toys?", one merchandiser at the American International Toy Fair in New York City a few weeks ago muttered nervously to another, watching bassist Jerry Only and guitarist Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein pose for snapshots with wrestler Stone Cold Steve Austin. The occasion was the debut of the Misfits action figures, which are to be manufactured this fall by 21st Century Toys. The resurrected horror-punk band had turned out in full corpse paint, immaculately set devilocks, and several cows' worth of leather, looking amazingly well preserved, even for zombies, and amiably pressing the flesh with chubby men in suits.

There's always been something suggesting Famous Monsters Of Filmland model kits about the band anyway, but apparently there was some legal shuffling necessary to bring the toys to market, since the Misfits was also the name of the evil rock band on the '80s cartoon series Jem and the Holograms. Jerry and Doyle will be the first two dolls; if those sell, new singer Michale Graves (who took the place of founding frontman Glenn Danzig several years ago) and drummer Dr. Chud will get their turn. There are no current plans for additional accessories, though Only confesses that he'd really like to see a Misfits 'copter. He's a dad now, and he says he'd like to be able to visit kids' hospitals with the figures (which come in coffin-shaped, red-velvet-lined boxes), maybe through the Make A Wish Foundation.

It's unclear whether the dolls are supposed to be used for action scenarios -- "Oh no! Danzig's attacking!" -- but it doesn't appear their guitars can be turned around to whack overzealous fans, say. Still, there are some other possibilities for playing with them. As my companion pointed out, the Misfits figures are Barbie scale rather than GI Joe scale. "When I was a little girl, I always wished that my Barbies could hang out with more interesting men."

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One of the oddest albums of all time has just been reissued. The Shaggs' Philosophy of the World was released in 1969 on the aptly named Third World label, in an edition of 1000 copies, 900 of which promptly vanished. The remaining 100 sneaked out across the world, though, and became an underground legend, a permanent #1 on the "What the hell were they thinking?" hit parade. It was reissued on Rounder in the '80s, along with the band's later album, Shaggs' Own Thing. But the new edition on RCA Victor restores its original mix, running order, and indelibly tacky artwork. The product of sisters Dorothy ("Dot"), Betty, and Helen Wiggin, whose father had more or less pushed them into being would-be-hitmakers, it is nominally a collection of 12 pop songs recorded in a Revere studio. But the Shaggs gleefully skipped over what closed-minded people ordinarily think of as band prerequisites, like the ability to tune instruments, keep time, carry a tune, or make some pretense of attempting to stay in synch with one's fellow musicians.

Helen Wiggin keeps an insistent, if not exactly rock-steady, beat that somehow manages to never, ever have anything to do with what the rest of the band are playing; the Shaggs' best-known tune, "My Pal Foot Foot," would not be the same without her introductory drum solo. Dot and Betty (and sister Rachel, who adds some apropos-of-nothing bass to "That Little Sports Car") rarely switch from one chord to another without a Herculean struggle, and they seem to have some need for a decent speech therapist. And Dot's lyrics occupy the territory between embroidered platitudes and years of psychotherapy: "Parents do understand, parents do care/We must remember parents are the ones who will always understand."

All of this sounds awful, but it's actually compulsively listenable, just because it's so unlike anything else that's ever been recorded. The old Trouser Press Record Guide refers to "My Pal Foot Foot" as a "perennial candidate for worst song of all time," but to call the Shaggs "bad" is a category error -- they are beyond good and bad, fascinating not like a car accident but like an alien life form. Philosophy is a work of absolute originality. Even though most of these songs are not in any recognized meter, the Shaggs know exactly what they are doing. Dot and Betty sing "I'm So Happy When You're Near" and "Why Do I Feel?" in unison -- try to sing along and you will quickly discover that they have a sense of rhythm that is impossible to follow if you're thinking in conventional terms.

There's one other point that gets lost too often in discussions of the Shaggs. Philosophy of the World was not meant as a joke. These were actual people making art that was important to them, and they were agonizingly sincere about every note on it (Lisa Carver did a fascinating interview on that subject with Dot Wiggin in the 'zine Rollerderby a few years ago). They said their piece and went on to live their lives when music became less important to them. There are a lot of bands who could follow their example.