Appropros my response to Ase’s comment here, please allow me to present Macy “Skip” Skipper’s RaB classic, “Bop Pills.”
Excellent tune, fun lyrics, solid arrangement, the song would go on to become grist for the classic-cover mill for the Cramps, my old friend Tim Polecat*, and a smattering of other artists of discriminating tastes.
* My relationship with Tim got off to a somewhat rocky start when, after the BP’s set on a RaB-weekender bill on which Tim’s band the Polecats were that night’s headliners, me and my bud Too Tall Paul (both of us obnoxious rowdies just drunk as boiled owls, as per usual) stood off to the side of the stage and heckled Tim mercilessly in exaggerated, poofter English accents. This fusillade of aggressive catcalling had poor old Tim glaring angry daggers at us all thru his entire set, and understandably so. The offense which got us started in on him in the first place was the Polecats’ recent recording of a particularly wimpy David Bowie semi-hit, “John, I’m Only Dancing”—a limp dishrag of a song that bore no relationship to the kind of punchy, hard-edged Neo-rockabilly my band and Paul’s Frantic Flattops were known for. Reintroduced to Tim many years later by a mutual female friend; I spoke at length to him over the phone one night at her place, and as it turned out we got along famously. Imagine my surprise to learn during that unexpected conversation that Tim was in truth an entirely likeable, warm, unpretentious cat after all. Tim avowed repeatedly that he remembered the Playboys fondly and admired us as a thoroughly kick-ass outfit; the heckling incident in New Jersey never came up, to my profound relief. Iconic Polecats guitarist Boz Boorer eventually became a good friend as well, but that’s a whole ‘nother story
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Other than my late father, you are the only person I have ever seen use the phrase drunk as boiled owls. With one difference.
Dear old Dad always said drunker than a piss boiled owl.
Massive respect for this song, it’s not about cocaine at all.