“Andy Warhol would be proud. Spinal Tap would be jealous. Sergio Leone would be transported.” — Washington Post
Much like predecessors New York Dolls, Stooges and Dead Boys, The Factory burned like a roman candle, then disappeared into the night. The Washington D.C. band ruled the roost in the late 1980’s, opening for Iggy Pop, The Ramones, Public Image, Ltd. and Johnny Thunders, turning the heads of both fans and music industry reps along the East Coast.
Led by Vance Bockis (formerly of The Obsessed, 9353 and doom metal gods Pentagram), The Factory were a brash extension of late 1970’s Rolling Stones, picking up where the strut and sneer of Some Girls and Tattoo You left off, creating an explosive concoction of straight ahead Rock n’ Roll, Punk and R&B. Unfortunately outside influences got the best of them and The Factory broke up in 1992 without formally releasing anything more than a track on a compilation LP.
Acetate president (and D.C. native) Rick Ballard held on to The Factory demo he got from guitar player Robbie Limon for the last 20 years and recently found the band online. He immediately contacted them to discuss a release – the master tapes were located, cleaned up and mastered.
“Self Submission” starts the record with the subtlety of an alarm clock, Bockis barking and sneering over tight rhythms, while closer “Six Feet Down” is a warning shot of things to come in a lifestyle pushed too far. In between, they effortlessly explore seedy, drugged-out, and sometimes transcendent side of the city. From the disco-tinged “Love To Dance” to the melancholy of “Misfortune Son”, The Factory capture the gritty pulse of the D.C. streets on this self-titled release.