Text © copyright Robert Barry Francos
Images and recordings from the Internet
Recently, I was asked by some friends (who are about my age) to teach them a little about the history of punk. For the first class, I played them some proto-punk and influences (Shangri-Las, Iggy, Velvets, MC5, Dolls, etc.). For the second, I did the New York first wave (Televisions, Ramones, Hell, Dictators, Blondie, Heartbreakers, etc.).
The following is the list of records (both LPs and 45s) and CDs I played for them for a history of British punk, or the Second Wave, that are part of my collection. There is more I could have played, but I chose from my heart. Certainly, I could spin them all night, but I tried to keep it somewhat realistic. While many stories, both historical and personal, went with the airings, I will kept that to a minimal here. I have supplied videos for you, the reader, as many of the originals as I could find, with some exceptions (which will be noted). Feel free to leave comments at this blog about my choices, or alternatives, or additions.
1. Ian Whitcomb: Where Did Robinson Crusoe Take Friday on Saturday Night?
One aspect of British music that is generally missing from the US side is the dance hall sound that was a more risqué version of Tin Pan Alley. It is irreverent and usually bawdy with a lot of innuendo (much as some early Blues). As with British punk, this music was embraced more by the lower end of British working classes. Whitcomb, a musical historian, has written two books extensively on both this early period of music (After the Ball: Pop Music from Rag to Rock) and about the ‘60s (Rock Odyssey: A Chronicle of the Sixties, and I highly recommend them both.
2. Ramones: Beat on the Brat
The Ramones tour of England was important for spreading the minimalist anyone-can-do-it sound and initiative, but they also brought a level of (imagined) malevolence in the music, that would be interpreted as actual violence in many cases.
3. The Heartbreakers: Born to Lose (aka) Born Too Loose
The Heartbreakers’ tour of England also brought a nihilistic tone to music that was absorbed into the British scene. And, quite infamously, they also introduced heroin as the “cool” drug. Their other indirect import was Nancy Spungen, but that’s another story. The line I pointed out to the class was, “Living in a jungle, it ain’t that hard / Living in the city, it’ll eat / Eat out your heart.”
4. Nick Lowe: So It Goes
Despite being a strong pop tune, that it was the first release on Stiff Records makes it a turning point in the British punk movement, if not merely a touchstone.
5. The Damned: Neat Neat Neat
Getting signed before the Pistols is reason enough to put them here, but the fact their music was so interesting is a plus. I played three of their songs because (a) the length is short, (b) I saw them at CBGB’s a number of times on a double bill with the Dead Boys, and (c) it’s just so much fun.
6. The Damned: Stab Your Back
7. The Damned: Help
The song starts at 45 seconds:
8. The Sex Pistols: Anarchy in the U.K.
Do I really need to explain?
9. The Sex Pistols: God Save the Queen
10. The Clash: White Riot
The story goes that Joe Strummer was in the pub rock band the 101ers, heard the Pistols, and quit that band to form the Clash. Well, I liked the 101ers, but respect the early Clash as well. I played the singles version, as that’s the one I had and like best.
11. The Clash: London Calling
This is where the Clash end for me. Great song, but they went way too commercial and lost all appeal to me. Their releases Sandinista and Rock the Casbah were trifling.
12. The Adverts: One Chord Wonders
One of the bands I regret not seeing live. Always like their first few singles.
13. The Adverts: Gary Gilmore’s Eyes
This is slightly different than the Stiff single I played, and I feel this is a bit inferior.
14. Eater: Thinking of the USA
One of the first anti-USA songs in the punk canon, taking a shot at politics, and also at some of the musicians who brought punk over, including the Heartbreakers’ Walter Lure. This is not the single version I played, but rather a more sedate live version, with less bite.
15. Stiff Little Fingers: Suspect Device
Punk spread far and wide on the Isle, and here is one of Ireland’s great contributions, a band named after a song by the group the Vibrators. I’m proud to say that myself and Alan Abramowitz introduced bassist Ali to sushi after interviewing him at Irving Plaza. The staccato of this song's chorus is just stunning.
16. Stiff Little Fingers: Barbed Wire Love
Could only find the live video, but it’s accurate.
17. The Buzzcocks: Breakdown
I definitely like the Howard DeVoto years better than the Pete Shelley period.
18. Anti-Nowhere League: I Hate… People
As time went on, more thugs found punk as a way to vent their anger, and A-NL are a perfect example. Interesting music, a bit on the heavy side, but I had no desire to see a show. And my class audience were not “So Wot” kinda people.
19. Mo-dettes: White Mice
Much as Blondie co-oped NY punk into New Wave, bands like the Mo-dettes make the sound a bit more palatable. Still, it’s a fun song.
20. Adam and the Ants: AntMusic
And a final nail was the public acceptance of Adam and the Ants. Yeah, the song was a shit-and-giggle, but was it punk?
21. Plastic Bertrand: Ca Plane Pour Moi
Sheer joyous insanity and abandon, and perfect for pogoing. The only decent version was did not permit embedding, so here is the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VE45LlwTvc&feature=related
22. The Descendants: I Like Food
As a preview to the next class, the third wave of American hardcore, I played this. But first, I read the lyrics out loud…
Some I brought, but due to time frame, did not play:
A. Eddie and the Hot Rods: Teenage Depression
Saw them at Max’s KC in 1977, and they were boring live, but I enjoy the single.
B. Elvis Costello: Accidents Will Happen
Actually like his current stuff more than his old material.
.
C. Chelsea: Right to Work
D. Cortinas: Fascist Dictator
Then there are the Strangers, X-Ray Spex, the Crass, the Mekons, the whole Manchester scene, and so on, but we didn’t have all night, y’know! Oi!
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Showing posts with label punk rock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label punk rock. Show all posts
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Monday, December 13, 2010
A 1970s New York Punk Rock Primer
Text © copyright Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet
Recently, I was asked by some friends (who are about my age) to teach them a little about the New York City punk scene in the ‘70s. The following is the list of records (both LPs and 45s) and CDs II played for them that are part of my collection. There is more I could have played, and there may even be some that were extraneous, but I chose from my heart, and from what I own. Certainly, I could have played stuff all night, but I tried to keep it somewhat realistic. Note that with the exception of No 1 and No. 31, I have seen all these bands play live in that time period, usually more than once, so stories went with the airings. I have supplied videos for them here, as many of the originals as I could find, with some exceptions (which will be noted).
This was the second “class” I taught, the first being the influences (including the Shangri-Las, Velvet Underground, Iggy & the Stooges, and the New York Dolls, among many, which is why they are not listed here). I will make some notes here and there, to explain my reasoning.
My attempt was to show the diversity of the scene, before the codification of second wave of British punk came to the US and turned this rebellion into the third wave of hardcore. I am going to assume that most of the audience viewing this will understand, though I am happy to answer questions about relevance, etc., at rbf55@msn.com. Also feel free to leave comments at this blog about my choices, or alternatives, or additions.
1. Radio Dinner: Deteriorata
I started off with “Deteriorata” to emphasize the malaise that was growing in youth culture and society in general after Altamont, when things started to go “wrong” in the paradigm belief systems.
2. Television: Little Johnny Jewel
3. Richard Hell and Voidoids: Blank Generation
4. Richard Hell and Voidoids: Love Comes in Spurts
I played the Voidoids album version, put this will certainly do.
5. Heartbreakers: One Track Mind
I tried to show that this and “Love Comes in Spurts” is musically the same song, just that Walter Lure re-wrote the lyrics after Richard Hell left the band (as Walter wrote the music).
6. Heartbreakers: Let Go
7. Heartbreakers: Chinese Rocks
Not the album version I played, but a good representative live one.
8. Patti Smith: Piss Factory
9. Patti Smith: Gloria
10. Dictators: Next Big Thing
11. Dictators: Master Race Rock
12. Ramones: Blitzkrieg Bop
The song and band that changed everything for me.
13. Ramones: Rockaway Beach
Still my favorite Ramones song.
14. Ramones: I Wanna Be Sedated
15. Talking Heads: Love -> Building on Fire
I still consider this the best TH song, when they were still a trio; an non-LP single.
16. Talking Heads: Psycho Killer
17. Wayne County: Max’s Kansas City
Could not find the version I played, and the live one with the Fast is just too different to make my point.
18. Blondie: X Offender
From Blondie’s best album, their first.
19. Blondie: Heart of Glass
The start of New Wave (mixing punk with mainstream); I’m happy to say the group was not into it.
20. Fast: It’s Like Love
21. Fast: Kids Just Wanna Dance
Couldn’t find the powerpop version I love, before they went metalish.
22. Marbles: Red Lights
It’s a live version, but it’s accurate (and enjoyable) enough to add here:
23. Milk and Cookies: I’m Just a Kid
Decent live version, but not the record I played them.
24. Tina Peel: Fifi Goes Pop
25. Cramps: Human Fly
26. Cramps: The Way I Walk
27. Cramps: Garbageman
28. Cherry Vanilla: The Punk
While this live version is not what I played, it uses the same backtrack as the single, so it’s similar and passes along the message. (Oh, and remember that the Ramones and Johnny Thunders are all from Queens…)
29. Flame: Beg Me
The video sucks (not condoned by the band), but it is the right song. Don’t bother looking at the screen, just turn up the volume.
30. Tuff Darts: Slash
Could only find the studio album version, not the Live at CBGBs one I played (i.e., Robert Gordon).
31. Dead Boys: Sonic Reducer
The first American hardcore band?
32. Dead Boys: What Love Is
33. Suicide: Cheree
For some reason, this song touched the group most positively.
34. Suicide: Frankie Teardrop
I know someone who played this loud around when it came out, and a neighbor called the cops because of all the screaming.
35. Theoretical Girls: US Millie
It’s nice this video includes the lyric sheet (still have mine, too).
36. Sic F*cks: Rock or Die
37. Sic F*cks: Chop Up Your Mother
Both are on the video. Always end with a joke, I say, and I certainly mean that complementary.
Images from the Internet
Recently, I was asked by some friends (who are about my age) to teach them a little about the New York City punk scene in the ‘70s. The following is the list of records (both LPs and 45s) and CDs II played for them that are part of my collection. There is more I could have played, and there may even be some that were extraneous, but I chose from my heart, and from what I own. Certainly, I could have played stuff all night, but I tried to keep it somewhat realistic. Note that with the exception of No 1 and No. 31, I have seen all these bands play live in that time period, usually more than once, so stories went with the airings. I have supplied videos for them here, as many of the originals as I could find, with some exceptions (which will be noted).
This was the second “class” I taught, the first being the influences (including the Shangri-Las, Velvet Underground, Iggy & the Stooges, and the New York Dolls, among many, which is why they are not listed here). I will make some notes here and there, to explain my reasoning.
My attempt was to show the diversity of the scene, before the codification of second wave of British punk came to the US and turned this rebellion into the third wave of hardcore. I am going to assume that most of the audience viewing this will understand, though I am happy to answer questions about relevance, etc., at rbf55@msn.com. Also feel free to leave comments at this blog about my choices, or alternatives, or additions.
1. Radio Dinner: Deteriorata
I started off with “Deteriorata” to emphasize the malaise that was growing in youth culture and society in general after Altamont, when things started to go “wrong” in the paradigm belief systems.
2. Television: Little Johnny Jewel
3. Richard Hell and Voidoids: Blank Generation
4. Richard Hell and Voidoids: Love Comes in Spurts
I played the Voidoids album version, put this will certainly do.
5. Heartbreakers: One Track Mind
I tried to show that this and “Love Comes in Spurts” is musically the same song, just that Walter Lure re-wrote the lyrics after Richard Hell left the band (as Walter wrote the music).
6. Heartbreakers: Let Go
7. Heartbreakers: Chinese Rocks
Not the album version I played, but a good representative live one.
8. Patti Smith: Piss Factory
9. Patti Smith: Gloria
10. Dictators: Next Big Thing
11. Dictators: Master Race Rock
12. Ramones: Blitzkrieg Bop
The song and band that changed everything for me.
13. Ramones: Rockaway Beach
Still my favorite Ramones song.
14. Ramones: I Wanna Be Sedated
15. Talking Heads: Love -> Building on Fire
I still consider this the best TH song, when they were still a trio; an non-LP single.
16. Talking Heads: Psycho Killer
17. Wayne County: Max’s Kansas City
Could not find the version I played, and the live one with the Fast is just too different to make my point.
18. Blondie: X Offender
From Blondie’s best album, their first.
19. Blondie: Heart of Glass
The start of New Wave (mixing punk with mainstream); I’m happy to say the group was not into it.
20. Fast: It’s Like Love
21. Fast: Kids Just Wanna Dance
Couldn’t find the powerpop version I love, before they went metalish.
22. Marbles: Red Lights
It’s a live version, but it’s accurate (and enjoyable) enough to add here:
23. Milk and Cookies: I’m Just a Kid
Decent live version, but not the record I played them.
24. Tina Peel: Fifi Goes Pop
25. Cramps: Human Fly
26. Cramps: The Way I Walk
27. Cramps: Garbageman
28. Cherry Vanilla: The Punk
While this live version is not what I played, it uses the same backtrack as the single, so it’s similar and passes along the message. (Oh, and remember that the Ramones and Johnny Thunders are all from Queens…)
29. Flame: Beg Me
The video sucks (not condoned by the band), but it is the right song. Don’t bother looking at the screen, just turn up the volume.
30. Tuff Darts: Slash
Could only find the studio album version, not the Live at CBGBs one I played (i.e., Robert Gordon).
31. Dead Boys: Sonic Reducer
The first American hardcore band?
32. Dead Boys: What Love Is
33. Suicide: Cheree
For some reason, this song touched the group most positively.
34. Suicide: Frankie Teardrop
I know someone who played this loud around when it came out, and a neighbor called the cops because of all the screaming.
35. Theoretical Girls: US Millie
It’s nice this video includes the lyric sheet (still have mine, too).
36. Sic F*cks: Rock or Die
37. Sic F*cks: Chop Up Your Mother
Both are on the video. Always end with a joke, I say, and I certainly mean that complementary.
Monday, October 11, 2010
DVD Review: GG Allin & the AIDS Brigade, Live in Boston 1989
Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet
GG Allin & the AIDS Brigade, Live in Boston 1989
Directed by Merle Allin
MVD Visual, 2010
90 minutes, USD $19.95
GGAllin.com
MVDvisual.com
If you don’t know who GG Allin is, well, suffice to say that he is a cult hardcore musician who is simply without boundaries. He was as transgressive as he could be, with no fear of attacking his audience or injuring himself on stage. He made Johnny Rotten look like a nerd, Sid Viscous a schoolboy, Stiv Bators unassuming, and even Keith Moon appear sane. Ironically, his birth name was Jesus Christ Allin. He died of a drug overdose in New York City in June of 1993. I can’t imagine there is any way he could have lived much longer than that.
Back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, I started receiving badly recorded demo cassette tapes from GG of his band the Jabbers, when he was living up in New England. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about the music, but the lyrics were blatantly offensive, and obviously meant to be. The songs were not juvenile, like another West Coast cult band, the Angry Samoans (who wrote about saving Hitler’s appendage, rhyming it under a rock; don’t get me wrong, they were a fun band), but rather they were well written, albeit much more angry and violent (yes, I still have them).
Before long, his then band, the Murder Junkies, were banned in many clubs, including their local big town, Boston. Under the name The AIDS Brigade, the band got themselves booked at the Middle East Café in the Boston suburb of Cambridge, and went down to the show dressed in drag, in which they also performed.
The first couple of tracks of the DVD are two sets of rehearsals, one being just GG and his brother Merle, who is also in the band, facing each other in chairs and playing guitars. The second part is a full band rehearsal for 19 minutes, and I must say it’s the best I’ve heard the band sound. They played decent music, for certain, which would deteriorate as the years went on. The last pre-show footage, which lasts a bit too long at 15 minutes, is the make-up application in a crowded room, presumably someone’s house. It’s pretty hard to follow who other than the band is there, and what is being done at any particular moment.
The show itself, on August 27, which is done in full New York Dolls style drag (GG was a big fan), is mounted on the small stage, with GG in the center. Sure they cover all his main songs, such as “Expose Yourselves to Kids,” and my fave of their tunes, “Bite It You Scum,” but it is actually starts relatively sedate. They sound like a great hardcore band, or even mid-‘70s New York Scene style, but as it goes on, GG lifts his skirt and pulls off his panties, exposing himself (as he’s wont to do), and even manages to throw himself on the ground a few times. As GG shows go, this is mild, but the music is the most upfront I’ve seen, and as a musical act, they were impressive, with biting lyrics (pun intended), and smart tunes.
Ah, but the DVD doesn’t end there, and here is where it gets a bit – err – twisted. But first a side-note: from late 1989 to 1991, GG was in prison on an assault charge, and something must have “broke” in there, because of what followed in his life, including extreme substance abuse and the disappearance of any kind of propriety in his performances. I am not sure if Andy Kaufman would applaud or be aghast.
There are two full gigs at over 40 minutes each, presented via a close single camera (by a very brave cameraperson) from May 26 in Seattle and May 27 in Portland, just one month before his death. What is shown is how far to the extreme he had achieved. He performs both gigs naked (with the exception of boots, dog collar and in the second show, gloves), rips up bibles and local newspapers and sets them on fire onstage (using mas lighter fluid), pees and defecates on the stage (and ingests both), sticks multiple items up his bum (including a turkey baster and the microphone), flings the mic stand into the audience, and he punches people and gets pummeled in return. By the end he is bloodied and covered in crap (literally). There is a barrier between the audience and the stage, and while no one in the crowd comes over to the band’s side, GG travels often into the spectators, in one case ripping the tee-shirt off of a woman, and varied times whacking other people on the side of the head if they venture too close.
In the Seattle show, he openly insults Nirvana and Pearl Jam right off. Considering the time period and the location, this took balls, which were right there. The sound was kind of muddy, unfortunately, and the lyrics were mostly impossible to make out (though thanks to the 1989 show, one could have an idea). GG doesn’t just roam the stage, he prowls it… he owns it. Often hitting his head repeatedly with the mic, he growls more than sings, and it’s pretty obvious he’s bloated and not in good health. The club, Under the Rail, first tries to turn off the electricity, and then when they realize that this may cause more trouble than not, it comes back on and the band continues to play, including “Kill the Police,” “I Live to Be Hated,” and “Highest Power.” When all the lights go out, the show ends; GG goes into the audience and starts a near riot when the scene ends.
The second is at The Roseland Theater, where many of the preamble antics continue. GG’s legs are black and blue (could be bruising, or perhaps from shooting up?). The sound is a lot clearer, but it doesn’t help that GG keeps breaking the mics, which are replaced quite often (by a club roadie who does not want to touch the feces covered contraption; at first he just drops it on the floor, but then he brings a towel to wipe it off). At one point, GG climbs up on a very tall bank of monitors, and starts pushing at a neon wall hanging, and you’re left to wonder if it will go crash (I’m not telling).
It’s these later shows that are more representative of his Hated in the Nation documentary, which is where most know him from. Tt’s definitely a self-destructive circus that has attracted fans the likes of World War IX’s Justin Melkmann and SQNS’s Tony Petrozza (who covers “Bite It You Scum”), and I’m certainly glad to have them, but it’s the 1989 Cambridge show that is the find for me, as I had not seen footage of the band from this period. I am pleased at just how good and catchy it is. One would hardly know it was the same band.
GG Allin is not an acquired taste: you either love it or you hate it, period. If you’re squeamish about bodily functions (or bodies, for that matter) in any kind of way, or find objectionable lyrics objectionable, needless to say, avoid this. But if you are a fan, you surely will not be disappointed. RIP, GG, and I hope you have found peace.
Bonus video (not from this DVD):
Images from the Internet
GG Allin & the AIDS Brigade, Live in Boston 1989
Directed by Merle Allin
MVD Visual, 2010
90 minutes, USD $19.95
GGAllin.com
MVDvisual.com
If you don’t know who GG Allin is, well, suffice to say that he is a cult hardcore musician who is simply without boundaries. He was as transgressive as he could be, with no fear of attacking his audience or injuring himself on stage. He made Johnny Rotten look like a nerd, Sid Viscous a schoolboy, Stiv Bators unassuming, and even Keith Moon appear sane. Ironically, his birth name was Jesus Christ Allin. He died of a drug overdose in New York City in June of 1993. I can’t imagine there is any way he could have lived much longer than that.
Back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, I started receiving badly recorded demo cassette tapes from GG of his band the Jabbers, when he was living up in New England. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about the music, but the lyrics were blatantly offensive, and obviously meant to be. The songs were not juvenile, like another West Coast cult band, the Angry Samoans (who wrote about saving Hitler’s appendage, rhyming it under a rock; don’t get me wrong, they were a fun band), but rather they were well written, albeit much more angry and violent (yes, I still have them).
Before long, his then band, the Murder Junkies, were banned in many clubs, including their local big town, Boston. Under the name The AIDS Brigade, the band got themselves booked at the Middle East Café in the Boston suburb of Cambridge, and went down to the show dressed in drag, in which they also performed.
The first couple of tracks of the DVD are two sets of rehearsals, one being just GG and his brother Merle, who is also in the band, facing each other in chairs and playing guitars. The second part is a full band rehearsal for 19 minutes, and I must say it’s the best I’ve heard the band sound. They played decent music, for certain, which would deteriorate as the years went on. The last pre-show footage, which lasts a bit too long at 15 minutes, is the make-up application in a crowded room, presumably someone’s house. It’s pretty hard to follow who other than the band is there, and what is being done at any particular moment.
The show itself, on August 27, which is done in full New York Dolls style drag (GG was a big fan), is mounted on the small stage, with GG in the center. Sure they cover all his main songs, such as “Expose Yourselves to Kids,” and my fave of their tunes, “Bite It You Scum,” but it is actually starts relatively sedate. They sound like a great hardcore band, or even mid-‘70s New York Scene style, but as it goes on, GG lifts his skirt and pulls off his panties, exposing himself (as he’s wont to do), and even manages to throw himself on the ground a few times. As GG shows go, this is mild, but the music is the most upfront I’ve seen, and as a musical act, they were impressive, with biting lyrics (pun intended), and smart tunes.
Ah, but the DVD doesn’t end there, and here is where it gets a bit – err – twisted. But first a side-note: from late 1989 to 1991, GG was in prison on an assault charge, and something must have “broke” in there, because of what followed in his life, including extreme substance abuse and the disappearance of any kind of propriety in his performances. I am not sure if Andy Kaufman would applaud or be aghast.
There are two full gigs at over 40 minutes each, presented via a close single camera (by a very brave cameraperson) from May 26 in Seattle and May 27 in Portland, just one month before his death. What is shown is how far to the extreme he had achieved. He performs both gigs naked (with the exception of boots, dog collar and in the second show, gloves), rips up bibles and local newspapers and sets them on fire onstage (using mas lighter fluid), pees and defecates on the stage (and ingests both), sticks multiple items up his bum (including a turkey baster and the microphone), flings the mic stand into the audience, and he punches people and gets pummeled in return. By the end he is bloodied and covered in crap (literally). There is a barrier between the audience and the stage, and while no one in the crowd comes over to the band’s side, GG travels often into the spectators, in one case ripping the tee-shirt off of a woman, and varied times whacking other people on the side of the head if they venture too close.
In the Seattle show, he openly insults Nirvana and Pearl Jam right off. Considering the time period and the location, this took balls, which were right there. The sound was kind of muddy, unfortunately, and the lyrics were mostly impossible to make out (though thanks to the 1989 show, one could have an idea). GG doesn’t just roam the stage, he prowls it… he owns it. Often hitting his head repeatedly with the mic, he growls more than sings, and it’s pretty obvious he’s bloated and not in good health. The club, Under the Rail, first tries to turn off the electricity, and then when they realize that this may cause more trouble than not, it comes back on and the band continues to play, including “Kill the Police,” “I Live to Be Hated,” and “Highest Power.” When all the lights go out, the show ends; GG goes into the audience and starts a near riot when the scene ends.
The second is at The Roseland Theater, where many of the preamble antics continue. GG’s legs are black and blue (could be bruising, or perhaps from shooting up?). The sound is a lot clearer, but it doesn’t help that GG keeps breaking the mics, which are replaced quite often (by a club roadie who does not want to touch the feces covered contraption; at first he just drops it on the floor, but then he brings a towel to wipe it off). At one point, GG climbs up on a very tall bank of monitors, and starts pushing at a neon wall hanging, and you’re left to wonder if it will go crash (I’m not telling).
It’s these later shows that are more representative of his Hated in the Nation documentary, which is where most know him from. Tt’s definitely a self-destructive circus that has attracted fans the likes of World War IX’s Justin Melkmann and SQNS’s Tony Petrozza (who covers “Bite It You Scum”), and I’m certainly glad to have them, but it’s the 1989 Cambridge show that is the find for me, as I had not seen footage of the band from this period. I am pleased at just how good and catchy it is. One would hardly know it was the same band.
GG Allin is not an acquired taste: you either love it or you hate it, period. If you’re squeamish about bodily functions (or bodies, for that matter) in any kind of way, or find objectionable lyrics objectionable, needless to say, avoid this. But if you are a fan, you surely will not be disappointed. RIP, GG, and I hope you have found peace.
Bonus video (not from this DVD):
Friday, October 8, 2010
Richard Hell Speaks (NYC 1/5/77)
Interview text © 1976 by Bernie Kugel;
RBF intro © 2010 by Robert Barry Francos
Live photo © Robert Barry Francos
Other Images from the Internet
The following interview with Richard was originally published in Big Star magazine, issue #1, dated May 1977. It was conducted by Bernie Kugel, and reprinted here with his kind permission. I have left the text the way Bernie originally had it (cleaning up some typos kinds of things), changing only the way the names are presented in the Q&A (e.g., “Hell” rather than “R.H.”) for clarity. Text added by me in 2010 is in [brackets].
It was a different world back then. I was getting ready to go to Queens College, and Bernie had come back home to Brooklyn from Buffalo State. Via letter, Bernie had arranged to interview Richard Hell, with only the fine details left to be ironed out, such as where and when. Bernie had arranged for Richard to call him at his parent’s house, where he was staying.
I’m sure I don’t need to go into the history of Richard Hell, but leave it to say that between Television, the Heartbreakers, and the Void Oids, he was a key figure in the nascent New York scene in the mid- to late 1970s. Having been regularly going to see bands play since June of ’75, we had seen him a few times, both in the Heartbreakers and the Void Oids, and having just missed him in Television.
Meanwhile, in January of 1977, Bernie was pacing the Bensonhurst apartment, anxious about getting the call, as he had to be getting back to college in a couple of days. To calm down, we decided to go for a walk around the block. When we came back, his mom – a character in her own right – was sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed and just fuming. The conversation that followed went something like this:
Bernie: What happened?
Goldie: I don’t like your friends!
Bernie: What do you mean?
Goldie: One of your friends called, and he started cursing at me!
Bernie: [expletive deleted].
Bernie called Richard Hell back, believing the interview blown, but when Hell answered the phone, he was still laughing. From him, this was what transpired:
Goldie: [Picking up the phone] Hello?
Richard: Hello. Is Bernie there?
Goldie: Who’s calling?
Richard: Richard Hell.
Goldie: Hell?! You say “Hell” to someone’s mother you don’t even know!?!?
And then she hung up on him.
The next day (If I remember correctly), Bernie and I hopped on the subway and went down to the Lower East Side to find Hell’s apartment in Alphabet City. We got lost looking for the building numbers. Bernie called Hell from a pay phone from a grocery store across the street from some projects. Fortunately, we were only a few blocks away.
Hell’s apartment was stereotypical LES, with the bathtub in the kitchen doubling as the kitchen table. There were some guys (the band?) in the bedroom yakking away, and during the interview, every once in a while Hell would get up and go into the bathroom. Perhaps, our imagination of the why was stronger than the reality.
Hell was pleasant and open, and the interview went smoothly. I sat on a chair and watched it all transpire, thinking perhaps I should start my own fanzine. But this was Bernie’s interview… – RBF, 2010
Bernie Kugel: Why did you change your name [from Myers to Hell]?
Richard Hell: Well, me and Tom [Verlaine] both decided we were going to change our names because we felt we had such common names, and I chose mine because I thought that was the best, most accurate description of me at the time. I just felt like my life was hell. I thought I would just start my career off on the right step with absolute honestly, make it my name.
Bernie: I understand in the early days of Television, everyone was rolling on the floor while playing, and things like that.
Hell: Oh, yeah, it was extremely wild. And that’s the way I think rock and roll should be. I’m always trying to think of methods to make it more possible for that to happen. It’s hard for me ‘cause I have to stay on the mike and I’m playing bass with my hands so I can’t really stroll with it…
Bernie: Did you ever think of adding another bass player so you’d be freer?
Hell: I’ve thought of doing it. I’ve always had it in the back of my mind to find a bass player, but I like coming up with bass stuff I do, and the person I would have to have would have to do exactly what I told him and that would be boring for somebody. Or else it would have to be somebody who’s a better bass player than me but has the same kind of feel for what the bass lines should be. I mean, the reason I’d want to come up with the base line is not ‘cause I’m the best bass player, but just for the right kind of feel. If I could find someone who was a better bass player than me but had the same feel, that would be great. But I’m not actually actively searching for somebody, you know? But it would be nice if somebody turned up and I would like to experiment with it. I don’t even know whether I could feel right myself onstage doing a whole set without an instrument, but I would like to experiment a little. I did one song last time (at the Void Oid’s debut performance) without a bass…
Bernie: How did you get the name Void Oid?
Hell: Well, actually, I was searching and searching for a name. I had all the guys in the band [Ivan Julian (guitar); Robert Quine (guitar), Marc Bell (drum, who would later become a Ramone) - RBF] thinking all the time for a name and we had three of them, and none of them seemed right, and one day I remembered that word because I had made it up as the title of a book I had imagined writing at one time, and it was to be called The Void Oid [it would be released in 1996 – RBF], and I suddenly thought of it as a possibility for the name of the group, and all the guys in the band liked it, so…
Bernie: You think this band will last a long time?
Hell: Well, absolutely everything that this band has done has worked out better than my greatest expectations. This band will probably continue even after all the members are dead.
Bernie: Were you satisfied with the way the EP came out? [
Hell: Umm… yeah, I mean it wasn’t the same conditions that you have for making a record if it were really commercially competitive. It wasn’t meant to be and it couldn’t possibly have been able to compete on that level, but it was exactly what I wanted to do.
Bernie: What do you feel about kids all over the U.S.A. and Europe looking up to you as an idol?
Hell: That’s such a sweet question… I’m lucky if I get one letter a week that smells of perfume and has lipstick traces on it. I’m aiming for the big time, yeah, but that question’s a little premature…
Bernie: Do you think the Void Oids will someday go on television?
Hell: Any group would love to go on television. It’s the ideal kind of exposure… and of course the more control you have over the whole thing… anyone would want to do it.
Bernie: Do you think you’ll be doing this ten years from now?
Hell: Probably about 10 years, maybe. I would say it would probably last about that long.
Bernie: What do you think you’ll do then?
Hell: Millions of things I’d love to do; millions of other things I’d like to do… I’ll probably do them all at once. The more things you do at once, the better… there’s really a lot of time in the day when you think about it.
Bernie: Do you feel very influenced by movies in your songs?
Hell: I’m sure it has some effect just because I like movies so much and I go to them all a lot. I’m sure it effects it very deeply. One really cool thing about movies is that it exposes you to so many… if you’re living your own life and getting exposed to all the experiences you yourself have every week and then at the same time you go to four or five movies in that week, you’re like getting four or five other people’s experiences as well, with really strong impact on each one. The more impact the better. The better movies have the greater impact. You’re getting the biggest effect it has on your consciousness… it sort of increases your sophistication. That’s the effect it has on writing songs.
Bernie: Do you have favorite movies?
Hell: One of my very favorites is called Pickup on South Street (1953). Another one’s called Pierrot le fou (1965) and A Touch of Evil (1958), though I’ve seen it so many times already I can’t watch it anymore. That’s the top three.
Bernie: Did you wanna be in bands when you were a kid?
Hell: The two things I always wanted to be when I was a kid was a writer or an actor. And the thing that always grabbed my imagination the most was making great rock and roll, and being a big star out of it. But I never really thought it was possible because I didn’t seem to be in an environment where I could make it happen…
Bernie: Do you like performing? Do you enjoy it?
Hell: I really dread it when I think about having to do it, but when it comes to doing it, when I’m actually there and doing it, it’s not bad… it’s pleasant but I don’t wanna go overboard.
Bernie: Do you think recording is easier?
Hell: I think it’s a different thing altogether… maybe not that far apart. But when you’re tense on stage… like it’s real tiring when you’re mixing something ‘cause you have to concentrate so hard, but it’s really great to do because it’s so exciting.
Bernie: Do you foresee the band getting tighter and better as time goes on?
Hell: Oh yeah, I got a pretty good idea. We have a real tight and carefully put together repertoire right now, and we probably won’t add at the most a couple more song. We already have a few more songs that we can fit on an album. So I have a pretty good idea.
Bernie: Do you look forward to extensively touring?
Hell: I look forward to it and I do want to do it in the most comfortable way possible.
Bernie: Do you look back to one performance by this band or any previous band, and say that that’s the best performance you ever did?
Hell: Well, definitely, the last gig I played with this band… it had some very dynamic moments.
Bernie: Do you have a favorite New York band?
Hell: I really don’t… What the best of the New York bands are doing is definitely the most exciting thing happening in rock and roll in the world, and I think that’s self-evident; I think that’s obvious. I think it’s as any of the other historical developments in rock and roll that have gone on in the past.
Bernie: Do you have a favorite band of all time?
Hell: No, because there are too many. I have records going all day long. When you’re really immersed in something… I mean I could tell you my favorite movies because I’m not a filmmaker, but the only way you could do that would be to write down all the records here.
[I won’t do that, but here’s a few: Pinups - Bowie; Between the Buttons - Rolling Stones; Let’s Stick Together - Bryan Ferry; The Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ first album, etc., etc. – Berne]
Bernie: Do you like the way your life’s gone up to now?
Hell: I think I’ve gotten a lot of good breaks. I think I’ve gotten overwhelmingly good breaks, and they seem to get better. I just hope it keeps up.
Bernie: Is there any trouble or friction in this band?
Hell: Oh, no, and that’s such a relief after so much of that thing in the past. There’s absolutely none of it here. Ya know, we’re all each others’ best friends. It’s like perfect.
Bernie: What do you think you’ll be doing fifty or so years from now?
Hell: I don’t think the world will last that long. I don’t wanna say that… I want do everything I can. Vote for me.
RBF intro © 2010 by Robert Barry Francos
Live photo © Robert Barry Francos
Other Images from the Internet
The following interview with Richard was originally published in Big Star magazine, issue #1, dated May 1977. It was conducted by Bernie Kugel, and reprinted here with his kind permission. I have left the text the way Bernie originally had it (cleaning up some typos kinds of things), changing only the way the names are presented in the Q&A (e.g., “Hell” rather than “R.H.”) for clarity. Text added by me in 2010 is in [brackets].
It was a different world back then. I was getting ready to go to Queens College, and Bernie had come back home to Brooklyn from Buffalo State. Via letter, Bernie had arranged to interview Richard Hell, with only the fine details left to be ironed out, such as where and when. Bernie had arranged for Richard to call him at his parent’s house, where he was staying.
I’m sure I don’t need to go into the history of Richard Hell, but leave it to say that between Television, the Heartbreakers, and the Void Oids, he was a key figure in the nascent New York scene in the mid- to late 1970s. Having been regularly going to see bands play since June of ’75, we had seen him a few times, both in the Heartbreakers and the Void Oids, and having just missed him in Television.
Meanwhile, in January of 1977, Bernie was pacing the Bensonhurst apartment, anxious about getting the call, as he had to be getting back to college in a couple of days. To calm down, we decided to go for a walk around the block. When we came back, his mom – a character in her own right – was sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed and just fuming. The conversation that followed went something like this:
Bernie: What happened?
Goldie: I don’t like your friends!
Bernie: What do you mean?
Goldie: One of your friends called, and he started cursing at me!
Bernie: [expletive deleted].
Bernie called Richard Hell back, believing the interview blown, but when Hell answered the phone, he was still laughing. From him, this was what transpired:
Goldie: [Picking up the phone] Hello?
Richard: Hello. Is Bernie there?
Goldie: Who’s calling?
Richard: Richard Hell.
Goldie: Hell?! You say “Hell” to someone’s mother you don’t even know!?!?
And then she hung up on him.
The next day (If I remember correctly), Bernie and I hopped on the subway and went down to the Lower East Side to find Hell’s apartment in Alphabet City. We got lost looking for the building numbers. Bernie called Hell from a pay phone from a grocery store across the street from some projects. Fortunately, we were only a few blocks away.
Hell’s apartment was stereotypical LES, with the bathtub in the kitchen doubling as the kitchen table. There were some guys (the band?) in the bedroom yakking away, and during the interview, every once in a while Hell would get up and go into the bathroom. Perhaps, our imagination of the why was stronger than the reality.
Hell was pleasant and open, and the interview went smoothly. I sat on a chair and watched it all transpire, thinking perhaps I should start my own fanzine. But this was Bernie’s interview… – RBF, 2010
Bernie Kugel: Why did you change your name [from Myers to Hell]?
Richard Hell: Well, me and Tom [Verlaine] both decided we were going to change our names because we felt we had such common names, and I chose mine because I thought that was the best, most accurate description of me at the time. I just felt like my life was hell. I thought I would just start my career off on the right step with absolute honestly, make it my name.
Bernie: I understand in the early days of Television, everyone was rolling on the floor while playing, and things like that.
Hell: Oh, yeah, it was extremely wild. And that’s the way I think rock and roll should be. I’m always trying to think of methods to make it more possible for that to happen. It’s hard for me ‘cause I have to stay on the mike and I’m playing bass with my hands so I can’t really stroll with it…
Bernie: Did you ever think of adding another bass player so you’d be freer?
Hell: I’ve thought of doing it. I’ve always had it in the back of my mind to find a bass player, but I like coming up with bass stuff I do, and the person I would have to have would have to do exactly what I told him and that would be boring for somebody. Or else it would have to be somebody who’s a better bass player than me but has the same kind of feel for what the bass lines should be. I mean, the reason I’d want to come up with the base line is not ‘cause I’m the best bass player, but just for the right kind of feel. If I could find someone who was a better bass player than me but had the same feel, that would be great. But I’m not actually actively searching for somebody, you know? But it would be nice if somebody turned up and I would like to experiment with it. I don’t even know whether I could feel right myself onstage doing a whole set without an instrument, but I would like to experiment a little. I did one song last time (at the Void Oid’s debut performance) without a bass…
Bernie: How did you get the name Void Oid? Hell: Well, actually, I was searching and searching for a name. I had all the guys in the band [Ivan Julian (guitar); Robert Quine (guitar), Marc Bell (drum, who would later become a Ramone) - RBF] thinking all the time for a name and we had three of them, and none of them seemed right, and one day I remembered that word because I had made it up as the title of a book I had imagined writing at one time, and it was to be called The Void Oid [it would be released in 1996 – RBF], and I suddenly thought of it as a possibility for the name of the group, and all the guys in the band liked it, so…
Bernie: You think this band will last a long time?
Hell: Well, absolutely everything that this band has done has worked out better than my greatest expectations. This band will probably continue even after all the members are dead.
Bernie: Were you satisfied with the way the EP came out? [Hell: Umm… yeah, I mean it wasn’t the same conditions that you have for making a record if it were really commercially competitive. It wasn’t meant to be and it couldn’t possibly have been able to compete on that level, but it was exactly what I wanted to do.
Bernie: What do you feel about kids all over the U.S.A. and Europe looking up to you as an idol?
Hell: That’s such a sweet question… I’m lucky if I get one letter a week that smells of perfume and has lipstick traces on it. I’m aiming for the big time, yeah, but that question’s a little premature…
Bernie: Do you think the Void Oids will someday go on television?
Hell: Any group would love to go on television. It’s the ideal kind of exposure… and of course the more control you have over the whole thing… anyone would want to do it.
Bernie: Do you think you’ll be doing this ten years from now?
Hell: Probably about 10 years, maybe. I would say it would probably last about that long.
Bernie: What do you think you’ll do then?
Hell: Millions of things I’d love to do; millions of other things I’d like to do… I’ll probably do them all at once. The more things you do at once, the better… there’s really a lot of time in the day when you think about it.
Bernie: Do you feel very influenced by movies in your songs? Hell: I’m sure it has some effect just because I like movies so much and I go to them all a lot. I’m sure it effects it very deeply. One really cool thing about movies is that it exposes you to so many… if you’re living your own life and getting exposed to all the experiences you yourself have every week and then at the same time you go to four or five movies in that week, you’re like getting four or five other people’s experiences as well, with really strong impact on each one. The more impact the better. The better movies have the greater impact. You’re getting the biggest effect it has on your consciousness… it sort of increases your sophistication. That’s the effect it has on writing songs.
Bernie: Do you have favorite movies?
Hell: One of my very favorites is called Pickup on South Street (1953). Another one’s called Pierrot le fou (1965) and A Touch of Evil (1958), though I’ve seen it so many times already I can’t watch it anymore. That’s the top three.
Bernie: Did you wanna be in bands when you were a kid?
Hell: The two things I always wanted to be when I was a kid was a writer or an actor. And the thing that always grabbed my imagination the most was making great rock and roll, and being a big star out of it. But I never really thought it was possible because I didn’t seem to be in an environment where I could make it happen…
Bernie: Do you like performing? Do you enjoy it?
Hell: I really dread it when I think about having to do it, but when it comes to doing it, when I’m actually there and doing it, it’s not bad… it’s pleasant but I don’t wanna go overboard.
Bernie: Do you think recording is easier? Hell: I think it’s a different thing altogether… maybe not that far apart. But when you’re tense on stage… like it’s real tiring when you’re mixing something ‘cause you have to concentrate so hard, but it’s really great to do because it’s so exciting.
Bernie: Do you foresee the band getting tighter and better as time goes on?
Hell: Oh yeah, I got a pretty good idea. We have a real tight and carefully put together repertoire right now, and we probably won’t add at the most a couple more song. We already have a few more songs that we can fit on an album. So I have a pretty good idea.
Bernie: Do you look forward to extensively touring?
Hell: I look forward to it and I do want to do it in the most comfortable way possible.
Bernie: Do you look back to one performance by this band or any previous band, and say that that’s the best performance you ever did?
Hell: Well, definitely, the last gig I played with this band… it had some very dynamic moments.
Bernie: Do you have a favorite New York band?
Hell: I really don’t… What the best of the New York bands are doing is definitely the most exciting thing happening in rock and roll in the world, and I think that’s self-evident; I think that’s obvious. I think it’s as any of the other historical developments in rock and roll that have gone on in the past.
Bernie: Do you have a favorite band of all time?
Hell: No, because there are too many. I have records going all day long. When you’re really immersed in something… I mean I could tell you my favorite movies because I’m not a filmmaker, but the only way you could do that would be to write down all the records here.
[I won’t do that, but here’s a few: Pinups - Bowie; Between the Buttons - Rolling Stones; Let’s Stick Together - Bryan Ferry; The Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ first album, etc., etc. – Berne]
Bernie: Do you like the way your life’s gone up to now?
Hell: I think I’ve gotten a lot of good breaks. I think I’ve gotten overwhelmingly good breaks, and they seem to get better. I just hope it keeps up.
Bernie: Is there any trouble or friction in this band?
Hell: Oh, no, and that’s such a relief after so much of that thing in the past. There’s absolutely none of it here. Ya know, we’re all each others’ best friends. It’s like perfect.
Bernie: What do you think you’ll be doing fifty or so years from now?
Hell: I don’t think the world will last that long. I don’t wanna say that… I want do everything I can. Vote for me.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
THE SKELS with a Live CHEETAH (CHROME)
Text by Julia Masi, 1982
Introductory text by Robert Barry Francos, 2010
© By FFanzeen
Images from the Internet
The following article/interview with The Skels was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #9, in 1982. It was conducted and written by Julia Masi, and I was also present for the rehearsal, interview and brief photoshoot on St. Mark’s Place, though my memory of the whole experience is kind of weak.
Bassist Gerry Lambe (not to be confused with the British musician of the Skunks) died around 1986 after a long career on the New York scene. Cheetah Chrome, infamous for so many reasons, including his tenure with the Dead Boys, now has a powerful new autobiography out called A Dead Boy’s Tale, which had been reviewed last month in this blog (ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/09/book-review-dead-boys-tale-by-cheetah.html). In the book, there is little mention of the Skels, so here is my contribution to honor the history of Cheetah. – RBF, 2010
In a dark, musty studio on West 27th Street, Cheetah Chrome and his band, the Skels – Gerry Lambe, bass, and Jeff Miller, drums – are absorbed in practice for an upcoming gig in Baltimore. Almost oblivious to an audience of two jaded rock’n’roll journalists, the Skels seem every bit as intense, polished, and energetic in rehearsal as they do in actual performance.
But the band isn’t satisfied. In unison, they interrupt the flow of smooth-sounding “Sonic Reducer,” crack a few jokes, tune their guitars, pinpoint their problem and try it again. A series of similar stops and starts punctuate the rehearsal, magnifying the camaraderie, seriousness and sweat that make the Skels one of the tightest new trios in New York.
All three have been in bands before: Cheetah, who started out in his native Detroit with Frankenstein, and Rocket From the Tombs, reaches his peak of success with the Dead Boys in the late ‘70s; Jeff’s been a studio musician here and abroad, as well as playing with bands like Wayne County & the Electric Chairs, and the Fast; and Gerry’s a veteran of the local scene, most recently with Disgrace. From their combined experience, they know what it takes to make or break a band, and the Skels is where they put their knowledge to the test.
“Three creative people all working together. That’s a band. That’s this band, at least,” said Cheetah. “It’s a real exclusive club. The only way anybody’s gonna join is if they are brought in by another member of the band. It’s like the Guardian Angels. You’ve gotta be sponsored.” They frequently kick around the idea of having another member, but at this point it’s not in their immediate plans. “I’ve decided it’s a five piece band, ‘cause me and the drummer are both skitz,” Cheetah quipped. “Before this band started, before I had these two buys, it was a four piece or a three piece, depending on who showed up for the gig. It became a big pain in the ass for me to do a three piece. I had to sing, play guitar, dance around and balance an egg on my heard or something. It got to feel like I was doing too much work. With these guys, they’re so solid; I can play whenever I want to.
“Before I was playing in a trio that should have been a four piece. Now, I’m playing with a trio. Another guitar would be nice, but at the same time it isn’t necessary. And I like the extra bread!”
“Three piece, if you screw up it’s more evident. But four piece, it’s sloppier,” noted Jeff. “To me, it’s convenient. We only have one guy doing his job. If we have another player, what am I gonna tell him about lead guitar? What is he gonna tell me about drums? And vice versa. We each do our own thing. He can hear, obviously, if all of a sudden I screw up and I play in 7/8 when I’m supposed to be playing in 4/4.
“The thing that’s great about this group is that nobody’s retarded. Like in almost every group I’ve played there’s always been one guy you had to drag along. It’s like, ‘Duh, what do I play here?’ And you have to do [he imitates a guitar] do-do-do. ‘Oh, yeah, right. That riff.’ But everybody knows what the hell they’re doing. Like he’ll [Cheetah] start a song and we’ll come in.”
“I think the band falls into different categories,” explains Gerry. “We could do a bill with somebody like Iggy Pop and be compatible. We have the same raw energy he has. Whereas we can also do gigs with a band like the Stray Cats. ‘Federal Case’ and ‘I Don’t Know’ are basic 12 bar rock’n’roll. Or we could open for a heavy metal band.”
But the only type of music that they all feel they are incompatible with is hardcore punk. Jeff feels “a responsibility” to his audience because he knows that “there are young drummers in the audience. I don’t want them to see us and go back and pick up sloppy habits. What will it be in a year? Hardcore will be dead and we’ll have another trend. Why can’t we just have bands anymore?”
“It’s real weird ‘cause I’m the oldest in the band; I’m 27,” said Cheetah. “And when I was with the Dead Boys, I met Jeff. He was just this young whipper-snapper. He’s two years younger than me. I watched Jeff grow from this kid form Queens who used to come to our gigs and playin’ with the Fast and the Dictators, and playin’ with Wayne (County) and watchin’ him develop. And Gerry, the Dead Boys were to Gerry like the Stooges were to me: somebody to identify with. It’s great because I’m playin’ with two people that I’ve influenced, in a way.
“I met a little kid who came up to me and said, ‘I learned to play guitar to your records.’ It makes me feel good that somebody sat down with my records and took the time to learn. ‘Sonic Reducer’ is a standard for bar bands to cover. The Bad Brains, I think, said in their press kit, that the band was formed after one of the members listened to a Dead Boys album. To me that’s mission accomplished.
“Right now, we’re gonna do our gigs with the set we’ve got, but we’ll enlarge the band every time. We’ll add a couple of new tunes. With these guys, I really find myself trying to develop more as a guitar player and extending myself more, which is something I haven’t done. I haven’t felt such a creative outburst like this (before)!”
As the band evolves, they intend to get Gerry up to the mic to sing. “Yeah, let it be said,” commented Jeff, “that our bass player can sing very, very well. He just doesn’t want to.”
“If Gerry would just get off his ass…’ nagged Cheetah in feigned annoyance, “I’d get a break. This guy can sing the ‘Hippy Hippy Shake’ real good, but he won’t do it. You know why? ‘Cause he’s shy.” Although the brown-eyed bass player didn’t seem the least bit shy during this interview, he still won’t sing no matter how much this reporter begged.
“Eventually Gerry is gonna sing,” Cheetah confirmed. “It’s a fact of life he’ll just have to deal with. During the set we’ll time it so that he does the song and I’ll take a break and just play guitar. I’d like to do some instrumentals.” He also intends to incorporate more of Jeff and Gerry’s songs, which are heavily influenced by the ‘60s and rhythm & blues, into their act.
“We’re looking forward to gettin’ into that,” Cheetah noted, “but right now the main thing was to get a set down that we could stand by.
“As soon as we got this band together, all of a sudden it just clicked. And I just said, ‘Let’s get to work.’ The creative spark is there. If I don’t have a part for a song, these guys will come up with it. We don’t just rehearse together and let things happen. We talk about it. I didn’t want back-up musicians. I had that. That’s why it’s just ‘The Skels.’ Right now, it’s ‘The Skels featuring Cheetah Chrome,’ but that’s only so everybody knows what the name of my new band is. Eventually, I don’t see why it can’t be the Skels featuring all three of us.”
“We wanna be one of the top new groups,” admitted Jeff. “The problem in New York is that nobody wants to forget. I used to like the Dead Boys, but we’re not trying to be the Dead Boys. We’re not tryin’ to be anybody but the Skels.
“And there’s another thing that Cheetah pointed out at the first gig we did. He gave a rap about how there are a lot of hardcore band out there, bands that are going back to punk and ska, everything but good rock’n’roll bands. That speech was really weird, but it means something.”
What it means is that there is a rock’n’roll audience ready and waiting for the Skels, as they found out when they played Baltimore. Despite all their anxiety over a slightly imperfect rehearsal, the gig came off without a hitch and the crowd loved them.
About Baltimore, Cheetah remarked, “The band was incredible. They just kept me going. They just fired me up. It was the best gig I had since the Dead Boys. I got this rush, and I just started sweatin’. I can always tell how good a gig is by how much I sweat.”
Introductory text by Robert Barry Francos, 2010
© By FFanzeen
Images from the Internet
The following article/interview with The Skels was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #9, in 1982. It was conducted and written by Julia Masi, and I was also present for the rehearsal, interview and brief photoshoot on St. Mark’s Place, though my memory of the whole experience is kind of weak.
Bassist Gerry Lambe (not to be confused with the British musician of the Skunks) died around 1986 after a long career on the New York scene. Cheetah Chrome, infamous for so many reasons, including his tenure with the Dead Boys, now has a powerful new autobiography out called A Dead Boy’s Tale, which had been reviewed last month in this blog (ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/09/book-review-dead-boys-tale-by-cheetah.html). In the book, there is little mention of the Skels, so here is my contribution to honor the history of Cheetah. – RBF, 2010
In a dark, musty studio on West 27th Street, Cheetah Chrome and his band, the Skels – Gerry Lambe, bass, and Jeff Miller, drums – are absorbed in practice for an upcoming gig in Baltimore. Almost oblivious to an audience of two jaded rock’n’roll journalists, the Skels seem every bit as intense, polished, and energetic in rehearsal as they do in actual performance.
But the band isn’t satisfied. In unison, they interrupt the flow of smooth-sounding “Sonic Reducer,” crack a few jokes, tune their guitars, pinpoint their problem and try it again. A series of similar stops and starts punctuate the rehearsal, magnifying the camaraderie, seriousness and sweat that make the Skels one of the tightest new trios in New York.
All three have been in bands before: Cheetah, who started out in his native Detroit with Frankenstein, and Rocket From the Tombs, reaches his peak of success with the Dead Boys in the late ‘70s; Jeff’s been a studio musician here and abroad, as well as playing with bands like Wayne County & the Electric Chairs, and the Fast; and Gerry’s a veteran of the local scene, most recently with Disgrace. From their combined experience, they know what it takes to make or break a band, and the Skels is where they put their knowledge to the test.
“Three creative people all working together. That’s a band. That’s this band, at least,” said Cheetah. “It’s a real exclusive club. The only way anybody’s gonna join is if they are brought in by another member of the band. It’s like the Guardian Angels. You’ve gotta be sponsored.” They frequently kick around the idea of having another member, but at this point it’s not in their immediate plans. “I’ve decided it’s a five piece band, ‘cause me and the drummer are both skitz,” Cheetah quipped. “Before this band started, before I had these two buys, it was a four piece or a three piece, depending on who showed up for the gig. It became a big pain in the ass for me to do a three piece. I had to sing, play guitar, dance around and balance an egg on my heard or something. It got to feel like I was doing too much work. With these guys, they’re so solid; I can play whenever I want to.
“Before I was playing in a trio that should have been a four piece. Now, I’m playing with a trio. Another guitar would be nice, but at the same time it isn’t necessary. And I like the extra bread!”
“Three piece, if you screw up it’s more evident. But four piece, it’s sloppier,” noted Jeff. “To me, it’s convenient. We only have one guy doing his job. If we have another player, what am I gonna tell him about lead guitar? What is he gonna tell me about drums? And vice versa. We each do our own thing. He can hear, obviously, if all of a sudden I screw up and I play in 7/8 when I’m supposed to be playing in 4/4.
“The thing that’s great about this group is that nobody’s retarded. Like in almost every group I’ve played there’s always been one guy you had to drag along. It’s like, ‘Duh, what do I play here?’ And you have to do [he imitates a guitar] do-do-do. ‘Oh, yeah, right. That riff.’ But everybody knows what the hell they’re doing. Like he’ll [Cheetah] start a song and we’ll come in.”
“I think the band falls into different categories,” explains Gerry. “We could do a bill with somebody like Iggy Pop and be compatible. We have the same raw energy he has. Whereas we can also do gigs with a band like the Stray Cats. ‘Federal Case’ and ‘I Don’t Know’ are basic 12 bar rock’n’roll. Or we could open for a heavy metal band.”
But the only type of music that they all feel they are incompatible with is hardcore punk. Jeff feels “a responsibility” to his audience because he knows that “there are young drummers in the audience. I don’t want them to see us and go back and pick up sloppy habits. What will it be in a year? Hardcore will be dead and we’ll have another trend. Why can’t we just have bands anymore?”
“It’s real weird ‘cause I’m the oldest in the band; I’m 27,” said Cheetah. “And when I was with the Dead Boys, I met Jeff. He was just this young whipper-snapper. He’s two years younger than me. I watched Jeff grow from this kid form Queens who used to come to our gigs and playin’ with the Fast and the Dictators, and playin’ with Wayne (County) and watchin’ him develop. And Gerry, the Dead Boys were to Gerry like the Stooges were to me: somebody to identify with. It’s great because I’m playin’ with two people that I’ve influenced, in a way.
“I met a little kid who came up to me and said, ‘I learned to play guitar to your records.’ It makes me feel good that somebody sat down with my records and took the time to learn. ‘Sonic Reducer’ is a standard for bar bands to cover. The Bad Brains, I think, said in their press kit, that the band was formed after one of the members listened to a Dead Boys album. To me that’s mission accomplished.
“Right now, we’re gonna do our gigs with the set we’ve got, but we’ll enlarge the band every time. We’ll add a couple of new tunes. With these guys, I really find myself trying to develop more as a guitar player and extending myself more, which is something I haven’t done. I haven’t felt such a creative outburst like this (before)!”
As the band evolves, they intend to get Gerry up to the mic to sing. “Yeah, let it be said,” commented Jeff, “that our bass player can sing very, very well. He just doesn’t want to.”
“If Gerry would just get off his ass…’ nagged Cheetah in feigned annoyance, “I’d get a break. This guy can sing the ‘Hippy Hippy Shake’ real good, but he won’t do it. You know why? ‘Cause he’s shy.” Although the brown-eyed bass player didn’t seem the least bit shy during this interview, he still won’t sing no matter how much this reporter begged.
“Eventually Gerry is gonna sing,” Cheetah confirmed. “It’s a fact of life he’ll just have to deal with. During the set we’ll time it so that he does the song and I’ll take a break and just play guitar. I’d like to do some instrumentals.” He also intends to incorporate more of Jeff and Gerry’s songs, which are heavily influenced by the ‘60s and rhythm & blues, into their act.
“We’re looking forward to gettin’ into that,” Cheetah noted, “but right now the main thing was to get a set down that we could stand by.
“As soon as we got this band together, all of a sudden it just clicked. And I just said, ‘Let’s get to work.’ The creative spark is there. If I don’t have a part for a song, these guys will come up with it. We don’t just rehearse together and let things happen. We talk about it. I didn’t want back-up musicians. I had that. That’s why it’s just ‘The Skels.’ Right now, it’s ‘The Skels featuring Cheetah Chrome,’ but that’s only so everybody knows what the name of my new band is. Eventually, I don’t see why it can’t be the Skels featuring all three of us.”
“We wanna be one of the top new groups,” admitted Jeff. “The problem in New York is that nobody wants to forget. I used to like the Dead Boys, but we’re not trying to be the Dead Boys. We’re not tryin’ to be anybody but the Skels.
“And there’s another thing that Cheetah pointed out at the first gig we did. He gave a rap about how there are a lot of hardcore band out there, bands that are going back to punk and ska, everything but good rock’n’roll bands. That speech was really weird, but it means something.”
What it means is that there is a rock’n’roll audience ready and waiting for the Skels, as they found out when they played Baltimore. Despite all their anxiety over a slightly imperfect rehearsal, the gig came off without a hitch and the crowd loved them.
About Baltimore, Cheetah remarked, “The band was incredible. They just kept me going. They just fired me up. It was the best gig I had since the Dead Boys. I got this rush, and I just started sweatin’. I can always tell how good a gig is by how much I sweat.”
Monday, September 20, 2010
Book Review: “A Dead Boy’s Tale” by Cheetah Chrome
Text and live photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen
Book cover image and video from the Internet
A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock
By Cheetah Chrome
MBI Publishing / Voyageur Press (Minneapolis, MN), 2010
368 pages; USD $24.00 / CAN $27.00W
ISBN: 978-0-7603-3773-8
www.voyageurpress.com
I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome. Yeah, I saw him in the Dead Boys quite a few times, including many shows opening for the Damned, and a couple of the Johnny Blitz benefits at CB’s. Then there was the Skels, when Julia Masi and I interviewed him and hung out with the band for an afternoon, with Julia taking photos of them on St. Mark’s Place. Nancy Foster and I also saw him pair up with John Spacely at the Johnny Thunders memorial in the early ‘90s. It’s been more than a dozen shows, and we’re Facebook friends, but I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome.
Thanks to his new (and hopefully first) autobiography, A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock , just released by Voyageur Press, I have a better idea of the man behind the blazing guitar.
Despite a long history of erratic behavior and substance abuse, Cheetah’s still here… well, in Nashville, anyway. Many of the people discussed in the book are not, such as Stiv Bators, Peter Laughner, Johnny Thunders, Joey Ramone, Hilly Krystal (and his dog Jonathan), Ron Ashton, John Spacely… Fortunately, his synapses survived as well, enough to write an autobiography on his life-thus-far.
The book is dense as he describes growing up in a poor area of Cleveland, as he turns from orange haired tyke to teen, getting in and out of trouble, and one can argue that the detail is perhaps too much (hell, everyone really wants to hear those back stage and road stories, right?), but I argue that Cheetah cleverly sews a solid picture of what he is to be, prefacing his rise to relative prominence by describing his finding of music as a force, his various guitars, and the early hints of indulgences.
[Dead Boys during Blitz Benefit at CBGB's]
On the other hand, I found the last quarter of the book to be a bit thin, without mention of some of his work, like with the Skels (other than in the preface), focusing more on his fighting addiction than making music. Yeah, it’s in there, but as he made music a hobby rather than a career (his description) at one point, for his own health, he talks more about his life off the road than on. Perhaps he thought we would be more interested only in his earlier work? Or maybe the book company gave him a limit of pages? It’s possible that he was zonked out and just doesn’t remember that period well?
But don’t get me wrong, this work keeps the reader interested from beginning to end, and I am hoping that the less detailed spots are just lead-up to the next book (From a Dead Boy to a Live Man, may I suggest as a title, with a firm nudge and smile?). And rather than just whining about his addictions or glorifying them (like Jim Carroll’s Basketball Diaries), Cheetah’s approach is just to talk as himself, without trying to justify or damn his actions and experiences much. It’s a brave stance, and one that should be applauded.
The key focus of the book is from Rocket From the Tombs, through especially his Dead Boys period in the ‘70s. There is lots of Pete Moon level machismo bravado, destroyed hotel rooms, and sexual hijinks, much of it fuel by, well, you know. Lots of it will make you laugh, some of it will make you wince, and, well, other than the performances, may make you glad to be reading it from a distance of time. I remember being backstage at CBGB’s in 1977, for example, talking to the Dead Boys, and keeping my finger over the mouth of my beer as they were infamous for peeing in any open drink they could find, in good fun of course.
While Cheetah may not have the lyrically poetic background of a Carroll (I’m happy to say), he certainly is a fine writer and a strong wit, while describing his life. He is blunt, takes blame where it is his, rarely makes apologies, and even makes his ex-, the strong-willed Gyda Gash, look favorable despite their famously volatile time together. When he doesn’t like someone, however, he also does not hold back, such as the producer of the Dead Boys’ second LP, a colossal failure, the legendary (and wrong choice) Felix Pappalardi (who was later shot to death 5 years later by his wife).
It is ironic that Slash would supply the quote on the cover, rightfully stating Cheetah’s contribution to rock’n’roll. Their biographies are actually quite similar in thread (though Cheetah’s does not bludgeon the language with numerous repitions, as Slash does with “all things considered…). They are both from rough neighborhoods and family life, found solace in sex and drugs and music (specifically on guitar), are quite frank about their excesses, and have achieved a modicum of success. It’s true that Slash’s star rose higher, but honestly, if I had a choice between “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Sonic Reducer,” the latter would win every time. Cheetah intrigues me more and his book is definitely more satisfying (I will keep this one, and have just sold Slash’s hardcover at a garage sale for $1, if that helps give you an idea).
[At the Johnny Thunders memorial]
There are some cool B&W photos throughout (I’ve included a couple of my own here, that are not not in the book, so there), and the pages, well, they just fly by.
This is a joy to read, and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who is interested in an early view of what would become punk rock and arguably, in the Dead Boys’ case, proto-hardcore. I want to personally thank Cheetah for being so forthcoming, bringing me joyous hours listening to him play, getting the chance to read about his life, and for being true to who he is, whether it’s in a pharmaceutical haze of his early days or his straight living now.
After you finish reading this, get Young, Loud and Snotty and blast it, and check out some of his other contributions (a discography would have been a nice addition, but here is one online: discogs.com/artist/Cheetah+Chrome).
Finally, I want to add that the forward to the book by Legs McNeil is a fun read not just because he was there and is a punk “name,” but he sets up, through personal experience, a view into Cheetah’s mindset.
And check for Cheetah’s new band, Batusis (with Sylvain Sylvain) who are touring.
Book cover image and video from the Internet
A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock
By Cheetah Chrome
MBI Publishing / Voyageur Press (Minneapolis, MN), 2010
368 pages; USD $24.00 / CAN $27.00W
ISBN: 978-0-7603-3773-8
www.voyageurpress.com
I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome. Yeah, I saw him in the Dead Boys quite a few times, including many shows opening for the Damned, and a couple of the Johnny Blitz benefits at CB’s. Then there was the Skels, when Julia Masi and I interviewed him and hung out with the band for an afternoon, with Julia taking photos of them on St. Mark’s Place. Nancy Foster and I also saw him pair up with John Spacely at the Johnny Thunders memorial in the early ‘90s. It’s been more than a dozen shows, and we’re Facebook friends, but I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome.
Thanks to his new (and hopefully first) autobiography, A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock , just released by Voyageur Press, I have a better idea of the man behind the blazing guitar.
Despite a long history of erratic behavior and substance abuse, Cheetah’s still here… well, in Nashville, anyway. Many of the people discussed in the book are not, such as Stiv Bators, Peter Laughner, Johnny Thunders, Joey Ramone, Hilly Krystal (and his dog Jonathan), Ron Ashton, John Spacely… Fortunately, his synapses survived as well, enough to write an autobiography on his life-thus-far.
The book is dense as he describes growing up in a poor area of Cleveland, as he turns from orange haired tyke to teen, getting in and out of trouble, and one can argue that the detail is perhaps too much (hell, everyone really wants to hear those back stage and road stories, right?), but I argue that Cheetah cleverly sews a solid picture of what he is to be, prefacing his rise to relative prominence by describing his finding of music as a force, his various guitars, and the early hints of indulgences.
[Dead Boys during Blitz Benefit at CBGB's]On the other hand, I found the last quarter of the book to be a bit thin, without mention of some of his work, like with the Skels (other than in the preface), focusing more on his fighting addiction than making music. Yeah, it’s in there, but as he made music a hobby rather than a career (his description) at one point, for his own health, he talks more about his life off the road than on. Perhaps he thought we would be more interested only in his earlier work? Or maybe the book company gave him a limit of pages? It’s possible that he was zonked out and just doesn’t remember that period well?
But don’t get me wrong, this work keeps the reader interested from beginning to end, and I am hoping that the less detailed spots are just lead-up to the next book (From a Dead Boy to a Live Man, may I suggest as a title, with a firm nudge and smile?). And rather than just whining about his addictions or glorifying them (like Jim Carroll’s Basketball Diaries), Cheetah’s approach is just to talk as himself, without trying to justify or damn his actions and experiences much. It’s a brave stance, and one that should be applauded.
The key focus of the book is from Rocket From the Tombs, through especially his Dead Boys period in the ‘70s. There is lots of Pete Moon level machismo bravado, destroyed hotel rooms, and sexual hijinks, much of it fuel by, well, you know. Lots of it will make you laugh, some of it will make you wince, and, well, other than the performances, may make you glad to be reading it from a distance of time. I remember being backstage at CBGB’s in 1977, for example, talking to the Dead Boys, and keeping my finger over the mouth of my beer as they were infamous for peeing in any open drink they could find, in good fun of course.
While Cheetah may not have the lyrically poetic background of a Carroll (I’m happy to say), he certainly is a fine writer and a strong wit, while describing his life. He is blunt, takes blame where it is his, rarely makes apologies, and even makes his ex-, the strong-willed Gyda Gash, look favorable despite their famously volatile time together. When he doesn’t like someone, however, he also does not hold back, such as the producer of the Dead Boys’ second LP, a colossal failure, the legendary (and wrong choice) Felix Pappalardi (who was later shot to death 5 years later by his wife).
It is ironic that Slash would supply the quote on the cover, rightfully stating Cheetah’s contribution to rock’n’roll. Their biographies are actually quite similar in thread (though Cheetah’s does not bludgeon the language with numerous repitions, as Slash does with “all things considered…). They are both from rough neighborhoods and family life, found solace in sex and drugs and music (specifically on guitar), are quite frank about their excesses, and have achieved a modicum of success. It’s true that Slash’s star rose higher, but honestly, if I had a choice between “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Sonic Reducer,” the latter would win every time. Cheetah intrigues me more and his book is definitely more satisfying (I will keep this one, and have just sold Slash’s hardcover at a garage sale for $1, if that helps give you an idea).
[At the Johnny Thunders memorial]There are some cool B&W photos throughout (I’ve included a couple of my own here, that are not not in the book, so there), and the pages, well, they just fly by.
This is a joy to read, and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who is interested in an early view of what would become punk rock and arguably, in the Dead Boys’ case, proto-hardcore. I want to personally thank Cheetah for being so forthcoming, bringing me joyous hours listening to him play, getting the chance to read about his life, and for being true to who he is, whether it’s in a pharmaceutical haze of his early days or his straight living now.
After you finish reading this, get Young, Loud and Snotty and blast it, and check out some of his other contributions (a discography would have been a nice addition, but here is one online: discogs.com/artist/Cheetah+Chrome).
Finally, I want to add that the forward to the book by Legs McNeil is a fun read not just because he was there and is a punk “name,” but he sets up, through personal experience, a view into Cheetah’s mindset.
And check for Cheetah’s new band, Batusis (with Sylvain Sylvain) who are touring.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Ode to a Mixed Tape – ‘70s Underground
Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet
This tape was made around 1980, created when I was getting ready to drive to Boston for the first time. Well, actually, I was given the opportunity to “couch” it at my friend Joe Vig’s place on Dragon Ct., in Woburn (about 20 miles north of Boston). This was the trip I would also meet the great Kenne Highland (who gave me easy directions for a local, but totally confusing for a New Yorker: “take Mass Ave to Comm Ave…), and photographer Rocco Cippilone, who would go on to create Bang! fanzine before disappearing into the ether.
The idea for the tape is of a collection of the start of the underground scene in New York (and beyond), that is loosely chronological at start, but varies as the vinyl came into my hand from my collection. As always, I have tried to find a video of the original release of the song as it appears on the tape, and if that’s not possible, an alternative or live version by the same artists. The qualities of the videos vary widely.
SIDE ONE
The Stooges - I Wanna Be Your Dog
The New York Scene of the mid-‘70s, starting with the New York Dolls, could arguably be considered the bastard child of Iggy and the Stooges, and the Velvet Underground: a mix of melody and amelodic layering. It’s harsh and sharp, with lyrics that were certainly not by the books. The VU had “Venus in Furs” and the Stooges had this, both of which have sadist / masochistic themes. While the VU one smoldered with artistic leanings, this just rocked as they did in Detroit in those days. Sometimes Alice Cooper gets lumped in with the “father of punk” label, but as much as I respect the man, even with angst ridden lyrics, he was more theatrical rock, much like KISS, but punk was stripped down (even though many of the early fans came from liking the both of these).
The Stooges - Search & Destroy
With Ron Ashton’s guitar madness (RIP Ron) holding this tune up, Iggy just explodes in one of the best opening lines of the period: “I’m a street walkin’ cheetah with a heart full of napalm.” In that timeframe, this line alone can be seen as one of the key reasons Iggy was seen as such a strong proto-punk figure. I’ve seen Iggy two or three times now, including at the Brooklyn Zoo and the Palladium. At Zoo show, he was a couple minutes into a song, when someone threw some ice at him. He stopped the song, and snarled, “Don’t you fuckin’ throw ice at me. This isn’t a request, this is a command!” Then he started the song from the beginning.
The New York Dolls - Personality Crisis
The only time I ever saw the Dolls in the ‘70s was post-Johnny and Jerry, and it still was exciting. Their sloppy stage performances were just what was needed in the days of excess but technically precise musicianship. The group was a perfect combination of musicians who were in worlds of their own while on stage, musically stepping all over each other, but they making it work. If I made this tape today, I would have followed this with “Trash.” (RIP Johnny, Jerry, etc.)
The Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop
This is the start of true punk rock, even though the Ramones never considered themselves in that genre (Miriam Linna, in 1977, said to me that they did think of themselves as punks. This iconic song was mostly created by Tommy, originating as “Animal Hop,” before the rest of the band put their creative input to task, and came up with this, the most played of the Ramones songs. I remember at least 4 or 5 television commercials that have used it, the first being a beer ad. While I don’t think it’s their best song, it certainly seems to be their best known. (RIP Joey, Johnny, DeeDee)
The Ramones - Glad to See You Go
As much as I loved the self-titled first Ramones album, it’s their second and third that are my favorites. As this song shows, the lyrics are a bit stronger, the melodies are more pop without compromising their fierceness, and they rock hard, as Suzi Quatro may have said.
The Ramones - Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment
The grilling guitar as Joey sings the title line is a great shredding sound that would be imitated often by harder metal bands to come. If I made this tape now, I would have probably put in “Rockaway Beach” here, which has come to be my favorite Ramones song of the moment.
The Ramones - Oh Oh, I Love Her So
See, the Ramones could write some beautiful love songs without giving up who they were. I’m surprised a certain fast food chain hasn’t snatched this one up as a theme. I can’t remember how many times I’ve seen the Ramones play, starting with a show shared with Talking Head (who opened) on June 20, 1975, at CBGB. My first roll of 35mm film was used to take snaps of the Ramones, and the contact sheet was recently signed by Tommy, thanks to my pal Bernie Kugel. It’s framed on our living room wall.
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Blank Generation
While I was never into drugs, this song managed to feels like it defined me in its moment in time, and I still consider myself part of the blank generation as a term to describe a regular on the New York City mid-1970s pre-punk rock/New Wave underground music scene. What a great opening line: “I was sayin’ let me outta here before I was even born / It’s such a gamble when you get a face.” Plus Richard Lloyd’s ripping, nearly a-tonal guitar shatters any preconceived ideas about standard song structure. The Voidoids and Television (at some point, bassist Hell was in both) were far closer to the center of the Velvet Underground noise and Stooge’s rock sonic attacks. (RIP Bob)
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Love Comes in Spurts
This is about drugs and sex as much as Chuck Berry’s “Maybelline” was about women and cars. There are three versions of this song that I know of: the earliest by the Heartbreakers (another band in which Hell was a member) which is represented in the video below, the Ork single that is on my tape, and the one from the Sire album, which is the better known. I put the one I liked best on this tape.
The Heartbreakers - One Track Mind
The lyrics to “Love Comes in Spurts” was written by Hell, and the music by Walter Lure. When Hell left the Heartbreakers, Lure wrote his own lyrics on a similar topic line, but the chorus is on a different part of the melody (ingenious, actually). When the title of the song comes up in the chorus, I like to overlap it by singing the original lyrics. Like something Sondheim would have done (or not!). While the line “There’s tracks on my arms / And tracks on my face / Tracks on the walls / All over the place” is the most quoted, my favorite is “My rule book is thin / It says ‘Don’t. Come. In!’” I understand Thunders was the main focus of the Heartbreakers, but Walter was equal in my eyes as far as personality, and possibly further in talent. I really miss the Lure / Thunders / Nolan / Rath version of this band, when it was at its peak they were (usually) tremendous to watch.
The Heartbreakers - Let Go
Now it’s Johnny Thunders’ turn on vocals, as he commands, “I don’t know why you just don’t bloooooooowwwwwww.” The video below is live, but mine’s from the L.A.M.F. album.
The Heartbreakers - Chinese Rocks (Live)
Written by DeeDee Ramone, the ‘Breakers make it their own by changing the lyrics at the end of each chorus. My tape is taken from the Live at Max’s album, and while the video here is different, it has the same altered lyrics, though the sound on the album is superior. Any one who knows me will tell you I love the Ramones, but the Heartbreakers’ version of this song is superior.
The Dictators - Master Race Rock
Led by four Jewish guys, the irony of the title of this song is not lost on their fans. From their first Go Girl Crazy album, basically this is making fun of the class bullies more than anything else, with hysterical lyrics, killer rock bottom, and a sailing guitar. It’s a perfect combination of Shernoff and Manitoba vocals, with a sharing of stanzas and chorus. I mean, how can anyone take lines like “My favorite part of growing up / Is when I’m sick and throwing up / It’s the dues you’ve got to pay / For eating burgers every day” serious enough to point a finger at the boys. I saw the band play many times, starting in ’75, and every one was a great show. DFFD.
The Dead Boys - Sonic Reducer
First time I saw the Dead Boys was them opening for the Damned. In fact, it seems the first few times was that combination, and always at CBGB’s. The Dead Boys were a killer act, and arguably the first hardcore band. From the opening salvo of the scream/whelp of “I don’t need anyone!” the challenge was initiated. Whether ripping off Mariah Aguier’s top onstage (I was there that infamous night) or crawling into the crashing drum kit mid-song, Bators was more than a singer, he was a force. The Lords of the New Church never really did that much for me, but the Dead Boys has not been matched by any of the band members’ other work. My tape has the opening cut of their Young, Loud and Snotty LP, though the video below is a live take. (RIP Stiv)
The Dead Boys - What Love Is
“I wanna write on your face with mah pretty knife / I want some of your precious smile… / I want you to know what love is.” That’s starts the chorus. Some of the songs on the album was dedicated to one of their underage groupies, Lydia Lunch (“I Need Lunch,” “Caught With the Meat in Your Mouth”), and I was kind of thinking this may have been as well, for some reason. There is a sense of both anger and pleading for understanding that runs through this. Bator again handles it with strength, and just the perfect hint of whine. The video below is a bad live version, but it’s the best I found.
Tuff Darts - Slash
Robert Gordon, who fronted Tuff Darts for it’s initiation, fortunately stayed long enough for two live songs recorded for the Live at CBGBs double album. This is a truly ballsy song about a groupie (I used to know which one, but I can’t remember these days… Fox?). It’s just full of sexual contempt, and pre-rockabilly Gordon totally emotes that he’d rather “Slash my wrists and cut my throat / Than have to spend the night with you.” I never saw Tuff Darts play that I can remember, but I have a fond memory of interviewing the band’s true leader and fashion maven, Jeff Salen, at his clothing store on 72 Street a long time ago. Say what you want by Gordon’s replacement, Gordon really fucked this band over royally, and what was his reward? A couple of near hit singles (“Someday, Someway” and “Only Make Believe”) and some non-selling albums. They could have been the Teenage Head of New York.
SIDE TWO
Tuff Darts - All For the Love of Rock’n’Roll
This song is more manifesto than anything else. It posits, “I don’t care about the money / I ain’t seen none / And I don’t care about the women / ‘Cause I just need one / The reason I say it / You really oughta know / It’s all for the love of rock’n’roll.” Someday, someone needs to do a bigger cover of this to perpetuate it. The video is from Jeff Salen’s Memorial. RIP, Jeff.
Patti Smith Group - Gloria (In Excelsis Deo)
The first time I saw Patti was at the now famous (and often bootlegged) show at the Bottom Line. She was such an exiting performer, especially in a smaller setting, where she would come out and talk to the audience and read some poems as the Group set up, and then when everyone was ready, she’s usually lead off with “We’re Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together.” The Horses album is one of the first of the New York underground scene to be recorded, and there is not a bad cut on it. Imagine how brave it must have been to have the first line of the first song of your first album start off “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine.” I realize she was being poetic, but remember the hell (pun intended) that Lennon went through not very long before with his Jesus comment. When the PSG did the song on the first season of Saturday Night Live, it was well received. Now, it would probably cause a scandal due to that line; think of what happened to Sinead O’Conner. Despite a long fallow musical gap in the ‘80s and ‘90s, Patti came back and her material is as magnificent as ever. I’m looking forward to reading her new autobiography about Mapplethorpe. (RIP Richard Sohl)
Patti Smith Group - Free Money
I actually wanted to put “Land” here, but the song is nearly 10 minutes long, and it would have taken up too much time. So I picked this wishful song of desperation, that if I remember correctly, features Tom Verlaine (another of Smith’s paramours) and his flashing guitarwork. Like I said, the album is flawless, so I just went with an eeny-meeny pick.
The Afrika Korps - Jailbait Janet
After Kenne Highland left the Gizmos, he came to the New York tri-state area and did a song that would become one (of many) of his I-IV-V classics. This is a true story of a rivalry between Kenne and his friend, and the woman they both lusted after. Kenne is back doing music, and I look forward to hearing so much more from the man who has fronted more bands than anyone else I know - a few of which I’ve seen, and one I was a participant in both the naming of the band (The Hopelessly Obscure) and a recording session down the block from the Rat. The video is live; the album cut on my tape is not.
Talking Heads - Love (Goes To) Building on Fire
The Talking Heads only released one song as a trio, before Jerry Harrison joined the band, and it remains my favorite, despite the “inexplicable use of horns” (as Michael of the ex-Bleecker Street store Disc-o-Rama once said). I saw them a few times, the first opening for the Ramones in June 1975 (the Heads’ first show), and I was intrigued. Without any implication meant towards Harrison, I thought the keyboards made them too slick and I lost interest shortly after he joined. This song, their first release on Sire, is a non-LP 45.
The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso
From their first groundbreaking self-titled album, Jonathan Richman ended up being into the more pop side that followed on his next album by the time this came out, and refused to do any of the songs live when it hit the streets. Actually, I prefer the second album to the first, but this is a nicely dark and thumping song, which is highly influenced by the Velvet Underground (John Cale would later cover it).
The Modern Lovers - Road Runner
While the video below is the album version, though I actually prefer the alternate from the Beserkley Spitballs comp album (my fave JR song, “The New Bank Teller, is amazing), which I have on my tape. A digression… This mixed tape was playing as I was driving up to Woburn, and when Richman says, “Can you feel it out in Needam now?” I had just past the sign for the town. Then he sings, “Out on Route 128, by the power lines.” At that moment I was on Route 128, and there to the left were the power lines. It was a Keanu Reeves “whoa” moment.
Blondie - X Offender
Blondie were opening for the Ramones the second time I went to CBGB’s during the early summer of 1975, and I saw them quite a few times after that. At either that show or the one after, Debbie presciently stated, “Here’s our upcoming disco hit, ‘Heart of Glass’.” This was before they were even signed to a label. And speaking of which, Chrysalis released this single before the first album came out, which has a different mix. The video, fortunately, is also the single version. For me, Blondie’s best release was their first album, which had everything I liked about the band. After, they became way more over-produced, glossy and polished, and while they were still interesting, their records became more and more blah for my tastes at the time.
The Criminals - The Kids Are Back
After Sylvain Sylvain left the Dolls, but before his underrated stint with the 14th Street Band (whom I saw a few times, including at Hurrahs with the Rich Kids opening, featuring Glen Matlock and Midge Ure – who I found pretty lame), he formed the Criminals. This single is a nice, kick-ass number showing that he had more chops than just backing up Johansen. But even here he can’t get away from his Dolls “jacket,” naming off all the previous band’s members at a later point in the song. The video is the same song, but done live and with a different band backing him up on a telethon.
The Count - The Morn of the Confrontation
I was going to visit Joe Vig, so I figured I may as well put one of his songs on the tape. This was one of his very early recordings, and one of his best of the time. It’s a full out production, with a great tune and strong lyrics. He cries out on the chorus, “Seems like I’m trying / You know I’m trying all the time!” Viglione is another musician whose material is better than his career as a musician, which is a shame.
The Jumpers - I Wanna Know What’s Going On
Ah, the Jumpers, from Buffalo. Their first single was produced by Bernie Kugel by money borrowed from Dave Olka, it was written by band member Bob Kozak and fronted by the irrepressible (and Joey Ramone-level tall) Terry Sullivan. Kozak remains a strong songwriter (he and Kugel have performed together a number of times). Both this song and its flip, “You’ll Know Better When I’m Gone,” are likeable numbers in a Real Kids vein (or vice versa).
The Marbles - Forgive and Forget
From the first time I saw the Marbles, I fell in love with their sound. They had a scene-level hit with their powerpop Ork release, “Red Lights,” but I chose this Eric Li fronted number for this tape. Eric struggled with the high notes, but the melody and harmonies are as wondrous today as they were then. The Marbles only released two singles, but neither contain my favorites, “You Tomorrow” or “She’s Cool.” There is a live video of one of their shows floating around in some studio, and I recommend seeking it out (the clip below is from it). (RIP Eric)
Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
I started with Iggy, so I end with Iggy. This is one of his first solo hits, which has been way overused in commercials on television. It’s a commentary about the evils of consumption, and it’s used to promote the same. Go figure.
BONUS:
Images from the Internet
This tape was made around 1980, created when I was getting ready to drive to Boston for the first time. Well, actually, I was given the opportunity to “couch” it at my friend Joe Vig’s place on Dragon Ct., in Woburn (about 20 miles north of Boston). This was the trip I would also meet the great Kenne Highland (who gave me easy directions for a local, but totally confusing for a New Yorker: “take Mass Ave to Comm Ave…), and photographer Rocco Cippilone, who would go on to create Bang! fanzine before disappearing into the ether.
The idea for the tape is of a collection of the start of the underground scene in New York (and beyond), that is loosely chronological at start, but varies as the vinyl came into my hand from my collection. As always, I have tried to find a video of the original release of the song as it appears on the tape, and if that’s not possible, an alternative or live version by the same artists. The qualities of the videos vary widely.
SIDE ONE
The Stooges - I Wanna Be Your Dog
The New York Scene of the mid-‘70s, starting with the New York Dolls, could arguably be considered the bastard child of Iggy and the Stooges, and the Velvet Underground: a mix of melody and amelodic layering. It’s harsh and sharp, with lyrics that were certainly not by the books. The VU had “Venus in Furs” and the Stooges had this, both of which have sadist / masochistic themes. While the VU one smoldered with artistic leanings, this just rocked as they did in Detroit in those days. Sometimes Alice Cooper gets lumped in with the “father of punk” label, but as much as I respect the man, even with angst ridden lyrics, he was more theatrical rock, much like KISS, but punk was stripped down (even though many of the early fans came from liking the both of these).
The Stooges - Search & Destroy
With Ron Ashton’s guitar madness (RIP Ron) holding this tune up, Iggy just explodes in one of the best opening lines of the period: “I’m a street walkin’ cheetah with a heart full of napalm.” In that timeframe, this line alone can be seen as one of the key reasons Iggy was seen as such a strong proto-punk figure. I’ve seen Iggy two or three times now, including at the Brooklyn Zoo and the Palladium. At Zoo show, he was a couple minutes into a song, when someone threw some ice at him. He stopped the song, and snarled, “Don’t you fuckin’ throw ice at me. This isn’t a request, this is a command!” Then he started the song from the beginning.
The New York Dolls - Personality Crisis
The only time I ever saw the Dolls in the ‘70s was post-Johnny and Jerry, and it still was exciting. Their sloppy stage performances were just what was needed in the days of excess but technically precise musicianship. The group was a perfect combination of musicians who were in worlds of their own while on stage, musically stepping all over each other, but they making it work. If I made this tape today, I would have followed this with “Trash.” (RIP Johnny, Jerry, etc.)
The Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop
This is the start of true punk rock, even though the Ramones never considered themselves in that genre (Miriam Linna, in 1977, said to me that they did think of themselves as punks. This iconic song was mostly created by Tommy, originating as “Animal Hop,” before the rest of the band put their creative input to task, and came up with this, the most played of the Ramones songs. I remember at least 4 or 5 television commercials that have used it, the first being a beer ad. While I don’t think it’s their best song, it certainly seems to be their best known. (RIP Joey, Johnny, DeeDee)
The Ramones - Glad to See You Go
As much as I loved the self-titled first Ramones album, it’s their second and third that are my favorites. As this song shows, the lyrics are a bit stronger, the melodies are more pop without compromising their fierceness, and they rock hard, as Suzi Quatro may have said.
The Ramones - Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment
The grilling guitar as Joey sings the title line is a great shredding sound that would be imitated often by harder metal bands to come. If I made this tape now, I would have probably put in “Rockaway Beach” here, which has come to be my favorite Ramones song of the moment.
The Ramones - Oh Oh, I Love Her So
See, the Ramones could write some beautiful love songs without giving up who they were. I’m surprised a certain fast food chain hasn’t snatched this one up as a theme. I can’t remember how many times I’ve seen the Ramones play, starting with a show shared with Talking Head (who opened) on June 20, 1975, at CBGB. My first roll of 35mm film was used to take snaps of the Ramones, and the contact sheet was recently signed by Tommy, thanks to my pal Bernie Kugel. It’s framed on our living room wall.
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Blank Generation
While I was never into drugs, this song managed to feels like it defined me in its moment in time, and I still consider myself part of the blank generation as a term to describe a regular on the New York City mid-1970s pre-punk rock/New Wave underground music scene. What a great opening line: “I was sayin’ let me outta here before I was even born / It’s such a gamble when you get a face.” Plus Richard Lloyd’s ripping, nearly a-tonal guitar shatters any preconceived ideas about standard song structure. The Voidoids and Television (at some point, bassist Hell was in both) were far closer to the center of the Velvet Underground noise and Stooge’s rock sonic attacks. (RIP Bob)
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Love Comes in Spurts
This is about drugs and sex as much as Chuck Berry’s “Maybelline” was about women and cars. There are three versions of this song that I know of: the earliest by the Heartbreakers (another band in which Hell was a member) which is represented in the video below, the Ork single that is on my tape, and the one from the Sire album, which is the better known. I put the one I liked best on this tape.
The Heartbreakers - One Track Mind
The lyrics to “Love Comes in Spurts” was written by Hell, and the music by Walter Lure. When Hell left the Heartbreakers, Lure wrote his own lyrics on a similar topic line, but the chorus is on a different part of the melody (ingenious, actually). When the title of the song comes up in the chorus, I like to overlap it by singing the original lyrics. Like something Sondheim would have done (or not!). While the line “There’s tracks on my arms / And tracks on my face / Tracks on the walls / All over the place” is the most quoted, my favorite is “My rule book is thin / It says ‘Don’t. Come. In!’” I understand Thunders was the main focus of the Heartbreakers, but Walter was equal in my eyes as far as personality, and possibly further in talent. I really miss the Lure / Thunders / Nolan / Rath version of this band, when it was at its peak they were (usually) tremendous to watch.
The Heartbreakers - Let Go
Now it’s Johnny Thunders’ turn on vocals, as he commands, “I don’t know why you just don’t bloooooooowwwwwww.” The video below is live, but mine’s from the L.A.M.F. album.
The Heartbreakers - Chinese Rocks (Live)
Written by DeeDee Ramone, the ‘Breakers make it their own by changing the lyrics at the end of each chorus. My tape is taken from the Live at Max’s album, and while the video here is different, it has the same altered lyrics, though the sound on the album is superior. Any one who knows me will tell you I love the Ramones, but the Heartbreakers’ version of this song is superior.
The Dictators - Master Race Rock
Led by four Jewish guys, the irony of the title of this song is not lost on their fans. From their first Go Girl Crazy album, basically this is making fun of the class bullies more than anything else, with hysterical lyrics, killer rock bottom, and a sailing guitar. It’s a perfect combination of Shernoff and Manitoba vocals, with a sharing of stanzas and chorus. I mean, how can anyone take lines like “My favorite part of growing up / Is when I’m sick and throwing up / It’s the dues you’ve got to pay / For eating burgers every day” serious enough to point a finger at the boys. I saw the band play many times, starting in ’75, and every one was a great show. DFFD.
The Dead Boys - Sonic Reducer
First time I saw the Dead Boys was them opening for the Damned. In fact, it seems the first few times was that combination, and always at CBGB’s. The Dead Boys were a killer act, and arguably the first hardcore band. From the opening salvo of the scream/whelp of “I don’t need anyone!” the challenge was initiated. Whether ripping off Mariah Aguier’s top onstage (I was there that infamous night) or crawling into the crashing drum kit mid-song, Bators was more than a singer, he was a force. The Lords of the New Church never really did that much for me, but the Dead Boys has not been matched by any of the band members’ other work. My tape has the opening cut of their Young, Loud and Snotty LP, though the video below is a live take. (RIP Stiv)
The Dead Boys - What Love Is
“I wanna write on your face with mah pretty knife / I want some of your precious smile… / I want you to know what love is.” That’s starts the chorus. Some of the songs on the album was dedicated to one of their underage groupies, Lydia Lunch (“I Need Lunch,” “Caught With the Meat in Your Mouth”), and I was kind of thinking this may have been as well, for some reason. There is a sense of both anger and pleading for understanding that runs through this. Bator again handles it with strength, and just the perfect hint of whine. The video below is a bad live version, but it’s the best I found.
Tuff Darts - Slash
Robert Gordon, who fronted Tuff Darts for it’s initiation, fortunately stayed long enough for two live songs recorded for the Live at CBGBs double album. This is a truly ballsy song about a groupie (I used to know which one, but I can’t remember these days… Fox?). It’s just full of sexual contempt, and pre-rockabilly Gordon totally emotes that he’d rather “Slash my wrists and cut my throat / Than have to spend the night with you.” I never saw Tuff Darts play that I can remember, but I have a fond memory of interviewing the band’s true leader and fashion maven, Jeff Salen, at his clothing store on 72 Street a long time ago. Say what you want by Gordon’s replacement, Gordon really fucked this band over royally, and what was his reward? A couple of near hit singles (“Someday, Someway” and “Only Make Believe”) and some non-selling albums. They could have been the Teenage Head of New York.
SIDE TWO
Tuff Darts - All For the Love of Rock’n’Roll
This song is more manifesto than anything else. It posits, “I don’t care about the money / I ain’t seen none / And I don’t care about the women / ‘Cause I just need one / The reason I say it / You really oughta know / It’s all for the love of rock’n’roll.” Someday, someone needs to do a bigger cover of this to perpetuate it. The video is from Jeff Salen’s Memorial. RIP, Jeff.
Patti Smith Group - Gloria (In Excelsis Deo)
The first time I saw Patti was at the now famous (and often bootlegged) show at the Bottom Line. She was such an exiting performer, especially in a smaller setting, where she would come out and talk to the audience and read some poems as the Group set up, and then when everyone was ready, she’s usually lead off with “We’re Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together.” The Horses album is one of the first of the New York underground scene to be recorded, and there is not a bad cut on it. Imagine how brave it must have been to have the first line of the first song of your first album start off “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine.” I realize she was being poetic, but remember the hell (pun intended) that Lennon went through not very long before with his Jesus comment. When the PSG did the song on the first season of Saturday Night Live, it was well received. Now, it would probably cause a scandal due to that line; think of what happened to Sinead O’Conner. Despite a long fallow musical gap in the ‘80s and ‘90s, Patti came back and her material is as magnificent as ever. I’m looking forward to reading her new autobiography about Mapplethorpe. (RIP Richard Sohl)
Patti Smith Group - Free Money
I actually wanted to put “Land” here, but the song is nearly 10 minutes long, and it would have taken up too much time. So I picked this wishful song of desperation, that if I remember correctly, features Tom Verlaine (another of Smith’s paramours) and his flashing guitarwork. Like I said, the album is flawless, so I just went with an eeny-meeny pick.
The Afrika Korps - Jailbait Janet
After Kenne Highland left the Gizmos, he came to the New York tri-state area and did a song that would become one (of many) of his I-IV-V classics. This is a true story of a rivalry between Kenne and his friend, and the woman they both lusted after. Kenne is back doing music, and I look forward to hearing so much more from the man who has fronted more bands than anyone else I know - a few of which I’ve seen, and one I was a participant in both the naming of the band (The Hopelessly Obscure) and a recording session down the block from the Rat. The video is live; the album cut on my tape is not.
Talking Heads - Love (Goes To) Building on Fire
The Talking Heads only released one song as a trio, before Jerry Harrison joined the band, and it remains my favorite, despite the “inexplicable use of horns” (as Michael of the ex-Bleecker Street store Disc-o-Rama once said). I saw them a few times, the first opening for the Ramones in June 1975 (the Heads’ first show), and I was intrigued. Without any implication meant towards Harrison, I thought the keyboards made them too slick and I lost interest shortly after he joined. This song, their first release on Sire, is a non-LP 45.
The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso
From their first groundbreaking self-titled album, Jonathan Richman ended up being into the more pop side that followed on his next album by the time this came out, and refused to do any of the songs live when it hit the streets. Actually, I prefer the second album to the first, but this is a nicely dark and thumping song, which is highly influenced by the Velvet Underground (John Cale would later cover it).
The Modern Lovers - Road Runner
While the video below is the album version, though I actually prefer the alternate from the Beserkley Spitballs comp album (my fave JR song, “The New Bank Teller, is amazing), which I have on my tape. A digression… This mixed tape was playing as I was driving up to Woburn, and when Richman says, “Can you feel it out in Needam now?” I had just past the sign for the town. Then he sings, “Out on Route 128, by the power lines.” At that moment I was on Route 128, and there to the left were the power lines. It was a Keanu Reeves “whoa” moment.
Blondie - X Offender
Blondie were opening for the Ramones the second time I went to CBGB’s during the early summer of 1975, and I saw them quite a few times after that. At either that show or the one after, Debbie presciently stated, “Here’s our upcoming disco hit, ‘Heart of Glass’.” This was before they were even signed to a label. And speaking of which, Chrysalis released this single before the first album came out, which has a different mix. The video, fortunately, is also the single version. For me, Blondie’s best release was their first album, which had everything I liked about the band. After, they became way more over-produced, glossy and polished, and while they were still interesting, their records became more and more blah for my tastes at the time.
The Criminals - The Kids Are Back
After Sylvain Sylvain left the Dolls, but before his underrated stint with the 14th Street Band (whom I saw a few times, including at Hurrahs with the Rich Kids opening, featuring Glen Matlock and Midge Ure – who I found pretty lame), he formed the Criminals. This single is a nice, kick-ass number showing that he had more chops than just backing up Johansen. But even here he can’t get away from his Dolls “jacket,” naming off all the previous band’s members at a later point in the song. The video is the same song, but done live and with a different band backing him up on a telethon.
The Count - The Morn of the Confrontation
I was going to visit Joe Vig, so I figured I may as well put one of his songs on the tape. This was one of his very early recordings, and one of his best of the time. It’s a full out production, with a great tune and strong lyrics. He cries out on the chorus, “Seems like I’m trying / You know I’m trying all the time!” Viglione is another musician whose material is better than his career as a musician, which is a shame.
The Jumpers - I Wanna Know What’s Going On
Ah, the Jumpers, from Buffalo. Their first single was produced by Bernie Kugel by money borrowed from Dave Olka, it was written by band member Bob Kozak and fronted by the irrepressible (and Joey Ramone-level tall) Terry Sullivan. Kozak remains a strong songwriter (he and Kugel have performed together a number of times). Both this song and its flip, “You’ll Know Better When I’m Gone,” are likeable numbers in a Real Kids vein (or vice versa).
The Marbles - Forgive and Forget
From the first time I saw the Marbles, I fell in love with their sound. They had a scene-level hit with their powerpop Ork release, “Red Lights,” but I chose this Eric Li fronted number for this tape. Eric struggled with the high notes, but the melody and harmonies are as wondrous today as they were then. The Marbles only released two singles, but neither contain my favorites, “You Tomorrow” or “She’s Cool.” There is a live video of one of their shows floating around in some studio, and I recommend seeking it out (the clip below is from it). (RIP Eric)
Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
I started with Iggy, so I end with Iggy. This is one of his first solo hits, which has been way overused in commercials on television. It’s a commentary about the evils of consumption, and it’s used to promote the same. Go figure.
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