Love story

>> Ass-kickin', Rancid-marryin' Brody of the Distillers is no Courtney

by JOHNSON CUMMINS

When you listen to the Distillers' self-titled debut album and hear Brody Armstrong's estrogen-fuelled banshee wail, a sense of familiarity is sure to register. Her vocal delivery sounds dangerously close to the late, great Wendy O. Williams but even more similar to a "Pretty On the Inside"-era Courtney Love.

And the comparisons to Love don't stop there. Like Courtney, Armstrong has to contend with the bashing and trashing that comes with being the wife of a punk rock star, in her case Rancid's Tim Armstrong. Here's how some people who have never met her describe her on the Epitaph message board: "self-centred," "egomaniac," "spoiled brat," "spineless" and so on.

Of course, talking with Armstrong, the first thing I noticed was how nice and courteous she was. And to shatter the Courtney Love comparisons, Armstrong seems to be musically talented and void of rock star pretension.

"I don't read any of that shit people say about me. Those people are misinformed and don't know me. They're not at my house having tea with me and my husband. These people are cowards and it all just stems from who I'm married to."

Adding fuel to Armstrong's witch trial is her husband's status as a well-respected punk and owner of the label her band is signed to. This coupled with the fact that the Distillers are fairly new--and already getting the much-coveted opening slot on Rancid's tour--is sure to draw even more criticism.

"I mean, what was I supposed to do? Go and try to get signed with Nitro or ask Fat Mike from Fat Wreck to sign me? Tim would be fuckin' irate if we signed with someone else. We got the same deal as all of the other bands on the label. I'm not asking for anything more or anything less, I just want complete equality."

Originally from Melbourne, Australia, Armstrong began a long-distance relationship with Rancid's Armstrong before moving to San Francisco's East Bay area and tying the knot two years ago. Talking to Brody, I can't detect one iota of an Australian accent. I try to get her to say, "Throw another shrimp on the barby" and "With all of the savvy I can muster" repeatedly, but still get no hint of her elusive mother tongue.

"I know Australians who live here [California] and still have their accent but I don't know what happened to mine. Tim and close friends can still hear it."

When I turn off the tape recorder, Brody and I continue chatting about her friends in Australia, her four-day drinking binge in Edmonton, new band members and the upcoming tour before she launches into, "You better not write anything bad about me or I'll kick your ass." I momentarily lapse into silence as I envision myself sitting in a proctologist's waiting room before she starts laughing. "I'm only kidding!" WHAT A SWEETHEART!

Opening for Rancid with AFI at Metropolis on Sunday, Nov. 5, 8pm, $18