I’m currently reading Keith Morris’ highly entertaining memoir “MY DAMAGE”. He’s a legendary gadfly and roustabout who sang for Black Flag, Circle Jerks and a variety of lesser lights, and he’s been a man on the quote-unquote scene in Los Angeles for four decades.
I’ve just finished the part that takes place in the late 80s, in which Morris gets sober and tries his hand at “managing” a couple of LA soon-to-be buzz bands, The Hangmen and The Nymphs. Ah yes, The Nymphs.
What a train wreck. I saw them play at the Anti-Club in LA around 1988 or ‘89, opening for someone I’d come to see whom I’ve now forgotten, and was sort of excited to check them out because Manfred Hofer of The Leaving Trains was in the band.
Their frontwoman was an instantly unlikable – if gorgeous – prima donna named Inger Lorre. She’s popped up in rock scene tell-alls of various sorts since then, starring in her own depraved 90s passion play of LA sleaze, drug abuse and reputation-chasing. She and the band were less than zero at the time, not even a buzz band yet, and yet she strutted & preened & vamped her way through a couple of songs before everything totally imploded.
She started screaming at the guys in her band, for what transgression I don’t know – and then stomped off the stage. They coaxed her back, and they started another song, and then in the middle she just lost it, and went off on the band again. Dropped the mic, screamed herself hoarse, and then completely left the club. The band thought it was hilarious.
Mind you, it was wasn’t the heshers and hair farmers she’d later recruit to be in her dumb band. These were regular fellas like Mr. Hofer of the ‘Trains. They giggled to themselves – clearly, they’d seen this before – and waited for her to return. When she didn’t, they ripped out a short version of “Interstellar Overdrive”. She didn’t come back, so they stopped.
That was my experience with the godawful Nymphs. Thanks to Mr. Morris for reminding me that they’d existed.