Let it bleed

It is hard to pick out a track from this collection of minimalistic maximum rock 'n' roll. "One More Day-One More Night" has a mid-tempo riff as infectious as an out-of-control jungle disease. "Gotta Go" makes you want to do just that. "Stalk" doubles the Stooges' frenetic insanity. The reworking of Suicide's "Bebop Kid" keeps the droning, otherworldly impact of the New York duo intact. "Raw Deal" is an instrumental designed to be played ad nauseam in a lounge in one of the lower rings of hell. As a whole, Lit Up is a stimulant for those glands in the body that have atrophied since rock 'n' roll grew infatuated with the notion of progress. It's the kind of album that would make Lester Bangs shake his bones, wherever he is now.

Wood says he would like to send a copy to madcap director John Waters, who he imagines would "get a laugh out of it and play it at a party to horrify his guests." He admits that his stripped-down, bass-less garage rock has very limited appeal and that Fireworks has committed "commercial suicide" since its inception, but that's how he likes to play it. "Through thick and thin, I will try to maintain my individuality. If you can translate that into music, you can create something powerful," he says. He laughs at the trendy people, young and old, who follow genres of music because they are fashionable and not because they like or understand them.

"I see more and more hipster-type people that are so unhip," he says. "You see little kids holding their mom and dad's hand and they wear a Marilyn Manson T-shirt. If people did what Marilyn Manson talks about, all mayhem would break loose. But fashion has such control over people that everything is acceptable," Wood says.

For the time being, Fireworks will continue playing and writing new songs. Wood, though, is looking for other avenues to channel his songwriting. A new side project with girlfriend Walker called Cat Fur is in the works. Wood says that the new band will be a radical departure from Fireworks. He talks about adding keyboards, percussion, and samples to construct the Cat Fur sound--a departure from the "juvenile delinquent" sound of his other band. Wood says there's plenty of room for something new and creative. "Music has gotten worse in the past two years," he says. "Mediocrity seems to be the key word. The underground is still there, it's just a matter of digging it out. I'm glad not everyone likes what I like. That leaves me more room to do what I want."

Two nights later at the Orbit Room, Wood, Underwood, and Walker unleash a sonic monster. Two years' worth of bottled-up adrenaline spurts out in the form of the guitarists' switchblade riffs and Walker's drumskin bludgeoning. Fireworks sound as together--and just plain cool--as if they'd played this place a week ago. The crowd is forced to pay attention, especially those who've never seen the band before. With the exception of the Mood Swings, no other band in Dallas taps that primitive rock vein as well as Fireworks does.

"We're back! Expect to see us around more," Wood announces.
Fireworks plays the Orbit Room Sunday, September 21.