Book Review: “33-1/3: Highway to Hell,” by Joe Bonomo

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

The 33-1/3: Highway to Hell
By Joe Bonomo
The Continuum International Publishing Group, Inc. (NY / London), 2010
131 pages
Continuumbooks.com

First, some essentials:

This is the third book I’ve had the pleasure to be reviewing by Northern Illinois University prof and music historian, Joe Bonomo. I’d like to digress and give a quick shout out to his previous two (non-fiction) books, SWEAT: The Story of the Fleshtones, America’s Garage Band, and Jerry Lee Lewis: Lost and Found. Both are excellent reads, and worth seeking out.

This particular book is number 73 in a series of digest sized books that Continuum Books has issued that focuses on a particular groundbreaking album that had a dramatic effect on culture. A brilliant concept, as each book is decidedly different, with the author given freedom to write about the release from their own perspective, anywhere from a straight bio to an academic polemic, to a personal reflection.

Lastly, as a “truth in publishing” statement, one of my photos appears within its pages (p. 67), and myself and this very blog is quoted extensively at least twice. As there is no such thing as objectivity, and I have no plans in leaning that way, I decided to review the book.

Bonomo has a definite style in his writing that flows in an auteur manner (so far). He is a knowledgeable participant in the history of the groups he documents, and he mixes this considerable information with his own history related to the topic, such as where he was when he first heard the 1979 AC/DC LP that would be a major US breakthrough for the Aussie band, and the last for it’s doomed lead singer, Bon Scott. Bonomo describes how the licentious nature of the music touched his teenage (i.e., horny) psyche, as well as that of the generation.

The Bon Scott period is more remembered fondly as a past moment than it was in the time of its incarnation. With new singer Brian Johnson (who still fronts the band to this day), AC/DC hit their popular stride, and can fill auditoriums across the planet, but it’s the Bon Scott era to which everyone harkens back, and Bonomo places the reader in the time of that slow, upward popularity swing of the band.

What helps make this book special is that Bonomo does not put the band on a pedestal. He looks at the music frankly, and even states which songs on the album are the weakest (and, of course, why they are such). As for Bon himself, Bonomo writes:

I won’t romanticize Bon Scott. I can’t forgive that he was a self-destructive alcoholic who drank himself to death, but I can forgive that unhappy truth, and I listen to the songs that dramatize that hazardous dancer with more than a little sympathy, and with rue at the human mistakes he made, however fun they were.

The book is formally broken into chapters that literally and figuratively mark the three chords that AC/DC relied on so heavily. We are introduced to the rise of the band, the tour before Highway to Hell’s release, the making of the album, the tour after, the effect of the death of Bon on the band and its audience, the rise of their popularity based on this album and subsequent reworking with a new singer (yet keeping their style and mojo going), and the aftermath of a world that has had AC/DC as a paradigm for rocking hard for all these years.

As Bonomo discusses the final product of Highway to Hell, he analyzes each song as he posits what the particular piece denotes and projects, and what it has meant to him over the years, using himself as the representative of his generation. As he describes each cut, I played that particular song, one by one (thank you YouTube), as if he was a tour guide taking me through the highway of AC/DC.

A topic that crops up occasionally in this analysis is one I don’t hear very often, and that is AC/DC’s occasional descriptor as “punk.” This is funny to me, as my Brooklyn crowd always associated them with the likes of the heavy anthem rock of Slade, more than, say, other Aussie punk bands of the time, such as the Saints. Yes, AC/DC were essentially three chords and their songs reveled in the sordid, but even their insisting on keeping their particular brand of rock going (as did the Ramones) gives the application of “punk” as questionable. Heck, Tom Petty’s first album was labeled as “punk” in 1976.

AC/DC is a band whose whole emphasis is fun: drinking, women, and rocking out. Bonomo keeps the flow going from history to analysis to the band as personal touchstone throughout the book, from beginning to end. Whether one is familiar with the band or not (personally, I only own their first LP, High Voltage, which I bought after seeing them play at CBGB in 1977 for $1 in a bargain bin), the story of them is still intriguing as present by Bonomo, who seemingly effortlessly flows through AC/DC’s history, their importance, and their legacy. This was an especially fun read.

Book Review: “Jerry Lee Lewis: Lost and Found”, by Joe Bonomo

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

Jerry Lee Lewis: Lost and Found
By Joe Bonomo
Continuum (NY/London), 2009
208 pages
ISBN: 978-0-82642-966-7
www.continuumbooks.com

Joe Bonomo wrote the book on the Fleshtones, SWEAT: The Story of the Fleshtones, America’s Garage Band, and now he goes back a bit further, looking at one of the master’s of rock’n’roll’s riotous career.

I’m going to assume the reader of this blog has enough awareness to be cognizant of The Killer, Jerry Lee Lewis, and his amazing music. I’m not going to insult your intelligence, because neither does Bonomo.

The ultimate focus of the book is a rare 1964 recording Lewis made in Hamburg, Germany, called ”Live” At the Star-Club, where he was accompanied by the British band, the Nashville Teens. To many who have heard it, the recording is one of the highlights of not only Lewis’ career, but is considered one of the best live recordings in the history of the genre. Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity, as this is still considered a hard album to find (anyone wants to send me a copy, I wouldn’t complain…).

Essentially, the book is broken up into four sections. The first covers what happened to the career of Lewis’ during and after his infamous downfall, when the news broke he married his barely teen second cousin (while still married to someone else, no less). The second section deals with what lead up to this Star-Club recording, the taping itself, and the aftermath. The next section deals with the rest of his career as it veered into country, and the final is his legacy.

Bonomo has stated (on Facebook, I believe) that biographies are also about the author. In this case, it’s absolutely true, and all kudos for the acknowledgement. As there really is no such thing as “objective,” it’s refreshing to see an author embrace that notion. He clearly places himself within the story, describing how the album effected and affected him, how he came to know the recording in the first place, and how it fits into his own world of music (including punk rock). One of the ways he does this is by discussing some other excellent live recordings, such James Brown’s Live at the Apollo and one by Charlie Pickett and the Eggs (and yes, it is an amazing LP; I saw them play CBGBs, as well).

It’s telling that Bonomo starts the book with the Oxford English Dictionary definition of the word “ego,” as there should be a picture of Lewis right there (I have an OED, and there is not, FYI). Lewis does not always come off as a likeable guy in the story of his life, but Bonomo does not shy away from that, looking at both good and bad points of the artist as a talented, self-loving, self-loathing, drug and alcohol-fueled, misogynistic and abusive musical genius. As he states on page 102, in discussing a performance of “Mean Woman Blues,” “As always, the lyrics take a back seat to their filthy delivery, which takes a back seat to Jerry Lee’s piano playing, which takes a back seat to nothing and no one.”

As a side-bar, I remember when JLL was set to play the Ritz in New York City in the 1980s, someone was to interview him, but before he could, JLL insisted the writer down a tumbler amount of likker prior to him even being allowed to sit down at the same table (I would have walked out, frankly). I don’t remember who the writer was, where I read this, or what the outcome was, but it shows the personality of the man and his need to control. However, what he dominated the best was the piano keyboard. Lord, the man can play.

While extremely knowledgeable about his subject, Bonomo constantly feeds the reader many facts about Lewis, but with his excellent writing style, he never hits one over the head with it, nor does it resemble a history class, reeling off the facts. Rather, he weaves them into the story in a way where the reader is totally engaged in the moment, which is not an easy task. The author’s love of the topic comes through with excitement rather than gushing, without pretention of raising a flawed character, but rather places the reader there, sharing the experience rather than lecturing about it.

One of Bonomo’s strong directions is taking the events that are happening within the storyline, as it were, and placing them into a larger cultural context, such as telling what the Beatles and Stones were doing at the same time Lewis was at the Star-Club, or details about the Nashville Teens, what let up to their backing Lewis, and what happened to them after.

Bonomo talks to many of those who were involved with Lewis’ career, including the late, great musician Jim Dickinson and producer Jerry Kennedy, both from Memphis, as well as some who had been at the Star-Club that night, such as the person who did the recording, did the mixing the tape onto the album, and who ran the club at the time. All this gives authenticity to the author’s tales of the many rises and falls of Lewis.

Although short, I enjoyed the final part, where Bonomo takes the legacy of Lewis and shows it through his interpretation, and in the eyes of some current musicians of various genres, from the snubbing of Lewis by the Country Hall of Fame, to the punk of X and the Ramones, and the rockabilly revision of the Reverend Horton Heat and Dave Alvin of the Blasters (Alvin has a great quote near the end of the book [p. 188] where he states, “When you’re younger you have all these silly conversations: ‘What’s the best Fuck You record of all time?’ Was it Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music? I’d say, no, it was Self-Portrait by Bob Dylan. Well, so is ’Live’ At the Star-Club. The way I think about it is you’ve got a wolf that’s caught in a trap, and Jerry Lee at the Star-Club is the sound of a wolf biting his own leg off.”

As Jerry Lee Lewis declined to be interviewed for this book, I wonder what he thinks of it. But then again, by not talking to him, I believe that there is more freedom for Joe Bonomo in the book, giving him a bit of a clearer head perhaps, with less pressure to “perform” (Lewis is infamous for his demands), which makes for a grand ol’ time in itself.