They locked and docked for two hot shows. If you were there, you know what we're talking about.
Keep checking for more hot pix from the shows.
Check out this letter...
contact your fav sex
All three Sex Police cd's are now available on itunes.
Now for sale and
Ring oieen with some of your favorite
Sex Police #1 hits. No logs here.
Formed fall 1988
released 3 cd's
last show Jan 4, 1995 at the ATTIC, Greenville, NC
Reunited, 3/98, 12/31/04, 1/1/05
Oh, you lock to read?
-a fan’s perspective
by Julie Pangborn
“No WAY!! Robo, are you serious?!?,” we asked, jumping up and down like little girls. “Yeah, we decided to play for New Year’s. It’s something we have talked about for a while, and now we are finally going to do it,” said Robo. My best friend since childhood, Deborah looked at me slack jawed. I had a hard time believing myself what I was hearing. The last time we heard Sex Police live was at Cat’s Cradle, the same venue they we going to play for New Year’s. At that show 5 years ago, they were playing in honor of the late Stacy Guess, a former bandmate that had made his success both with the Sex Police and with the Squirrel Nut Zippers. We thought as we heard them play that we were hearing them for the last time. We were absolutely astonished and excited when Robo gave us the news that they were reuniting to play two shows.
I play the air guitar better than anyone else I know. As Norwood sings with such conviction and clarity, I was screaming my fool head off as I had the CD Second String turned up loud enough for my neighbors to take note. I am still grateful that they did not ask me if I was having seizures as I was flailing around to the song “Elevator”. I was getting ready for the night, brimming with excitement as I envisioned what the guys must look and sound like now. I Googled their names to see what was up with the guys since I saw them last. Norwood’s name came up with a timeline of his accomplishments. I didn’t know that Je was so involved with SNZ, or that Shoney and John still lived locally. We ran into Robo all the time in Chapel Hill, and he has been the “Sex Police Lifeline”, as he is the only reason we knew about the Stacy Guess tribute and the New Year’s celebration. My bones crackled as I jumped around, reminding me that I was no longer the 23 year old in the mosh pit 10 years ago. Insanity won out over my groaning muscles and I continued to thrash about and play my air guitar. The phone rang, a fact I knew not because I could hear it above the lyrics to Amanda Falls, but because the phone was lighting up. Not even bothering to turn the music down, I answered the phone out of breath. “Yeah, baby!,” I screamed while holding the phone closer to the surround sound speakers in my living room. It was Deborah, and she was as stoked as I was. We saw every Sex Police show together, and the band and the music was something we identified with and reminded us of the good times we shared in college. “Get your ass over here. I am cracking open the champagne!” It was only five o’clock, and we were starting the festivities early. We only lived 3 miles from each other, and had remained logistically close to each other our whole lives. Deborah was getting the old crowd together to enjoy dinner and memories before the show started. We reminisced about the first time we saw the band, which songs were our favorite and what news we have heard of the bandmates since the last show. “Hang on, I just have to finish up my shirt,” I said. I had made a shirt with the names of each CD on the back. Bexter actually shot footage of my shirt while I was greeting Norwood before the show.
“Holy shit, they are GOOD,” Deborah said as the opening band, Apollo Heights, wrapped up their set. Deborah, being an accomplished singer who sings with an a capella group had a musically trained ear to distinguish truly gifted vocals from unpleasant wannabe rockers. I was blown away by the singer’s voice, a clear tenor with lots of vibrato and a hell of a range. Deb immediately went to the window by the door to purchase their CD. What a surprise she had for me when she handed me the Sex Police DVD!!
The crowd in front of us swelled, and we fought for footing. As the first chords of “To The Bone” were heard, a shot of excitement and an old familiarity struck me. I looked over at Deborah, and she was smiling ear to ear and tossing her blonde hair around. The crowd all around us jumped up and down in unison, just as the millions of muscle fibers in the heart beat as one. Norwood hadn’t changed at all. He spoke of getting out the WD-40 to spray the arthritis out of our joints, but age hadn’t touched his talent, silliness, or his lust for the music. He gave 100% to the show, and we all appreciated it. John looked like he had mellowed with age, but still sounded great and could still play the guitar as skillfully as ever. Shoney, bless his heart, had duct tape all over both hands, but it didn’t stop him from putting himself totally into the percussion. I made a mental note to bring my medical bag with me for the next show. Je and Robo still looked and sounded awesome. The hottest band in the land hadn’t even begun to age!
“Dude, that was better than sex!” I overheard an enthusiastic fan shout when the show ended. Funny, I was just thinking the same thing as I caught my breath. I headed over to the window to buy my own DVD and T-shirt. We said goodbye to everyone with promises to see them tomorrow at the show. “I’m not done yet,” Deborah said as she popped Medallion into my CD player in the car. She turned it up full volume. Then rolled down all the windows. We were soaked to the bone with sweat. She laughed as she looked at her T-shirt. “Yeah, I guess I do still need it!,” she said.
She called me the next morning, hoarse, just like I was. “Come pick me up around 4ish so we can go out to dinner in Winston. Don’t forget we have to pick up Charles,” she reminded me. Charles, Deb and I were quite the trio in college. Charles was part of the reason I loved the Sex Police so much. He went with us to every show in Greensboro, and was just as enthusiastic about the music as we were. I hadn’t seen him in a few years. Our reunion was just as I had imagined; completely silly yet heartfelt. We were part of a thin crowd at the restaurant-a quaint little bistro in downtown Winston. Thank God not many people were around. We were off the hook. Completely obnoxious and high from just being together, we laughed more than we ate. Deb ordered leg of lamb, and was not prepared for the enormous bowl of beans she got. “Tooting the groove takes a lot of control, keep your butt in the air and your beans in a bowl,” I lost my shit, laughing so hysterically I had to excuse myself from the table.
The energy at Ziggy’s was markedly different than the Cradle. For one thing, the Cradle no longer allows smoking inside the bar-no doubt because Chapel Hill is the Berkeley of North Carolina. Ziggy’s had many different levels and a sunken stage. A smoky haze had started to descend around us. Deb and I got a bird’s eye view from a platform that was higher than the stage-no one to get in our way. It was perfect. I searched the crowd for Shoney, and saw Norwood enter from the side door with his beautiful wife. “I brought my medical bag with some surgical tape,” I told him. “Tell Shoney if he needs me, I am staying right here.” He laughed, and said that he would relay the message. I saw Shoney after the show, as he proudly held out his hands, this time with surgical tape on them. His hands were lost amid a sea of white tape. “I think they’ll heal. It’s always like this when it has been a while since I have played,” he said, dismissing any notion of treatment. He told me about how the guys all got together at his house for Christmas, and how much they have been enjoying one another’s company.
As the band wrapped the show with “Speedball”, I wondered how long it would be before we would see them again, or if we ever would see them play live again. I had no idea that they had played over 500 shows. Or that Stacy had written the lyrics to “Spanish Indians.” The DVD was entertaining, and contained footage that was over 15 years old. It was interesting, because it contained little snippets of Sex Facts that I didn’t know. That the number 23 was closely associated with Stacy, or that Peyton had organized and directed the video “Elevator”. I didn’t know about the black stage and Bexter trying to see if they would mess up. I had forgotten how long Je’s hair used to be. Memories came flooding back as I thought of the first time I had seen them at a little bar in Greensboro, The Cellar, which no longer exists. Norwood had long dreads and striped socks. Je had long blonde hair and some sort of velvet jacket on. Striped socks were favored by these guys, and Je had them on too. John was intensely singing “On the Side of the Truth”, absolutely commanding the stage. Twelve years ago. Wow.
I have now been officially hoarse for a week. I laughed at Norwood’s statements from New Year’s regarding “getting out the cobwebs” as I massaged my sore neck. My neck was sore, my legs, feet, all my joints, my arms. I can’t even imagine how the band felt-they had been in rehearsal as well. Yep, we’re getting older. But as we experienced and enjoyed every second of this Sex Police New Year’s, we realized that none of us are anywhere close to old.