The following is an excerpt from the October 1999 issue of The T-Team, a monthly newsletter written, published, and distributed by Lawrence Tero, better known to friends and fans as Mr. T. Tero began the newsletter in 1983 when he was starring as B.A. Baracus in the NBC hit television series The A-Team. Each month, Tero offers his personal views on politics, pet grooming, the stock market, jewelry care, and entertainment, as well as interviews with such celebrities as Conrad Bain, Jason Bateman, and various A-Team crew members. This review appeared shortly after The Mr. T Experience released its ninth album, Alcatraz.
As many of you are well aware, I have pursued numerous legal actions against The Mr. T. Experience during the past decade, for reasons that are obvious. Yet despite the various depositions and court hearings I have endured because of them, I have remained a fan of the band's witty pop-punk songs. If you ask me -- and you did, since you are reading this! -- it is the only group from the sounds-like-the-Ramones school worth listening to, with the occasional exception of the few Queers albums where Joe "Queer" King was clean and sober. (Nothing personal, Joe; you really kept me going when T. and T. was canceled.) As you know, I was first introduced to The Mr. T Experience via my lawyer; I didn't even listen to any of the albums he brought to the set of The A-Team, simply signing the documents he brought along with them, occasionally seeing Dr. Frank and the rest of the group during court proceedings.
But when I finally listened to one of the albums, 1996's Love Is Dead, MTX won me over. All that time, and I had absolutely no idea! When Dr. Frank sang, "The search for love and happiness turns out to be a game of chess / You can't move or you flip the board and you're lying in pieces on the floor" on "I'm Like, But She's All No," I knew I'd found a soul mate, even though Frank is white, skinny, and I've never known him to wear one ounce of gold. (As I've often said, I believe in the golden rule: The man with the gold rules.) But I respected Frank and the band anyway, especially after hearing the next album, 1997's Revenge Is Sweet, And So Are You. "Who Needs Happiness (I'd Rather Have You)?" No kidding. Sucka, when I tell you that Dr. Frank knew what was going on in the Mohawked head of Mr. T, you know I'm not lying. As my good friend Dirk Benedict, whom you all remember as the lady-killing Face on The A-Team, once told me, "T, they're all bitches, man." Amen, brutha.
MTX wins more of my respect with Alcatraz, though I have to say I was surprised at first. The three-chords-in-three-minutes songs about girls were gone for the most part, replaced by acoustic guitars and pianos ("Hey Emily"), horns ("Naomi"), even tape loops ("Re-Activate Your Heart"). Not only that, but the first song ("I Wrote a Book About Rock and Roll") wasn't even about women! When Frank attacks rock critics on the song, I couldn't help but be reminded of when my buddy Hulk Hogan and I beat the hell out of "Rowdy" Roddy Piper and Paul Orndorff at Wrestlemania I. My mama always said you have to stand up to bullies. And the way he uses their own words against them -- "I know words like 'sobriquet,' 'malaise,' and 'plutocrat' / How cool is that?" -- man's a fucking genius, not unlike the late George Peppard, God rest his soul.
With Alcatraz, I was expecting another paint-by-numbers masterpiece, and I received a good, old-fashioned rock album, which just might be the best thing MTX has ever done. And, yeah, it helped that most of the songs were still about girls. If I've learned anything in my life, it's that girls will always find a way to break your heart, whether they're only after your money or your prime spot in line at the welfare office. My man Frank understands all of this, and for that, I am proud to consider myself a part of The Mr. T Experience. But if he thinks I'm not going to take his skinny ass to the cleaners in court, then I pity the fool. Soul mates are one thing, but another thick gold rope around T's neck is another.
Zac Crain
