Club Flyers and Invites from 1970s and 1980s: Part 6

Text (c) Robert Barry Francos, 2012
Images are owned by the artists.
Also, images can be enlarged by clicking on them.

As stated in an earlier blog, throughout the years I have collected flyers, especially from the 1970s and '80s. Many were sent to me directly by the bands while I was publishing FFanzeen. Below are some scans I made from my personal collection, in no particular order. I did see many of them, but not all, and I will comment on them from time to time. Note that I do not financially profit off of publishing them, but only do so to honor the work that was involved, and for archival purposes.

1. Wayne County, Max’s Kansas City
Wayne didn’t receive enough props for helping to bring punk to the UK from New York, and vice versa. It was always a good night at Max’s when he (remember, this is pre-Jayne) was behind the DJ booth.

2. Get Hip Showcase
The garage label from the Pittsburgh area is still going strong after all these years, run by members of the Cynics.

3. Folk City Psychedelic Nights

For a while, Todd Abramson, who published the fanzine Young Fast and Scientific, booked a couple of nights at the folk stalwart that introduced such rockers as Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, and Peter, Paul and Mary. His shows are the ones in black. I saw the Nov 18 and 19^th shows. Todd is now a co-owner of Hoboken’s best nightclub, Maxwell’s.

4. The Brooklyn Zoo, March 1983

While the Brighton Beach-based club wasn’t open very long, as you can see they had quite a line-up going.  Unlike now, Brooklyn was not looked upon in favorable light in the downtown Manhattan scene, and one can say it’s arguably still true beyond Williamsburg (aka Greenwich Village East, as opposed to the East Village). I saw many a good show there (including the Iggy Pop / Helen Wheels one on the flyer, where I interviewed Helen – RIP), such as BowWowWow, Joe “King” Carrasco and the Crowns, and many others.

5. The Rat

I’m sure people in Boston hate it when their Ratskeller was referred to as “the Boston CBGBs.” “Actually, it works for me, because they were both holes in the wall. I saw quite a few good shows there, as I was up in the area for many Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends, hanging out with, in alphabetical order, photographer and Bang! fanzine publisher Rocco Cippilone, cult legend Kenne Highland, future legend Donna Lethal, and music impresario Joe Viglione. Though I’ve seen Willie Alexander a few times, I would have liked to have seen most of the others on this as well.

6. Peppermint Lounge

While some of the larger clubs were more an annoyance than anything else (e.g., Danceteria), with their hindering door policies where you were never sure if you were wasting a trip, the Pep Lounge was wide open and many wonderful shows were to be seen there. Some I caught were the Stiff Little Fingers show listed here, the Fuzztones, Chesterfield Kings, and Husker Du, to name a smidgen. Great venue to see bands.

7. When People Were Shorter and Lived Near the Water

Yes, WPWSaLNeW is a great name (or horrible, depending on your taste), but they were mostly a joke band. A side project for a bunch of local New York City musicians; they did bizarre covers (only) of songs that were classic rock, punk, or even Top 10. Usually, the sound was distorted and very guitar heavy. But they did play pretty often in CBGB’s Jr., aka the CBGBs Record Canteen (next door to Sr.).

8. New Music Awards, Beacon Theater, 1985

I had been to the awards the year before, at Studio 54 (hosted, in part, by Al Franken in wedding dress drag), but did not make it to this one. Perhaps it was the Cheech and Chong emceeing that scared me off, because I never found them funny (“Who is it, maaan?!”).

9. Art

Led by New York punker extremeo Mykel Board, Art was actually a very sharp, biting band that skewered some of the bigger releases from the scene in a very nasty (re: fun), Weird Al re-writing way. If you can ever find their Live at Carnegie Hall release, it is amazing.

10. Artless, The Pyramid, 1986

After the collapse of Art, it only makes sense that Mykel Board’s next group was called Artless. It continued in a more hardcore way, but just as biting.                                                           

DVD Review: Public Image Limited: Live at Rockpalast 1983

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Public Image Limited: Live at Rockpalast 1983
Directed by Christian Wager
MIG / WDR, 1983 / 2011
58 minutes, USD $19.95
MIG-music.de
MVDvisual.com

Public Image Limited (aka PiL) is not just the band that John Lydon formed after his time with the Sex Pistols, but once it’s initial members left (and pretty early on in the 1980s), essentially it became the name of Lydon’s back-up group, since musicians came and went so fast during it’s initial 14-year run (1978-1994; though a version reformed in 2009).

There is certainly a marked difference between the Pistols and PiL, despite both starting with the letter “P,” and that is certainly to Lydon’s credit. While the former were musically talented, they were certainly not very disciplined. The latter, on the other hand – and this is especially true in later incarnations of the band – were a tight and consistent unit.

For a series of shows in Germany and Japan – part of which was taped for this release when they appeared at the “uberdisco” Zeche, in Bochum, Western Germany, on Halloween 1983 – Lydon assembled a collection of touring musicians to join him and original PiL drummer Martin Atkins. While the rest of the band doesn’t necessarily look the part (guitarist Joseph Guida, for example, looks like he should be in a pre-hair-metal rock band), they certainly play like they do, giving Lydon a strong backing for his music.

During the Pistol days, in “Johnny Rotten” mode, it seemed all Lydon did was give that tilt-headed, unblinking glare which works for about a minute, and snarl out some lyrics while being a living embodiment of sarcasm. In PiL, however, while some of that still exists, he seems a lot more relaxed, and, dare I say it without destroying his public image (pun intended), he seems to be having a good time. Rather than just hanging on the mic stand, hunched over and screaming, he jumps off the stage and approaches the audience pretty often, and frequently does that reggae-style skank dancing. Heck, he even smiles repeatedly. No, this is not JR, this is JL, even though he still occasionally leans in and sings into the camera.

As this excellent performance shows, PiL take an early Stooges and / or later Flamin’ Groovies influence and base many songs on a single riff, such as with “Religion,” that is played in a round, over and over, with slight changes. Mix in a bit of atonal No Wave, and this makes it hypnotic. PiL creates something of their own though, by also adding a reggae touch (just a smidge) and an elaborate keyboard set-up that would make Rick “I’m Boring” Wakeman notice.

If I had to pick a quintessential PiL-styled song from this DVD, it would be “Memories,” though my fave is by far one of their biggest successes, relatively speaking, “Bad Life.” In this one Lydon doesn’t sing as much as atonally caterwaul. It’s more known, however, for the repeated line, “This is what you want / This is what you get…” On the DVD box, however, they state that the band’s biggest hit was “(This is Not a) Love Song.” Fair enough.

While it may not be the classic Lydon-Wobble-Levene-Atkins version of PiL, this put-together band still delivers the sound. [Two quick sidebar PiL stories: when PiL first played in New York City at the Ritz in 1981, they stood silhouetted behind a curtain while the club played prerecorded tracks. The ticket-paying fans were not impressed, and the resulting riot did a lot of damage to the club. Second, while I was working for cable access show Videowave, PiL was scheduled to appear for an interview, but the story we heard from their management was that Levene was MIA looking for drugs, so the rest of the band decided not to bother showing up, being the only non-shows in Videowave history, other than a new, young singer named Madonna Ciccone.] Quite honestly, I was not impressed with PiL back then, finding them too contrived for my Ramones-Heartbreakers-Dictators taste, but this DVD shows that there was definitely something there quite interesting, in a more primal way. This especially shown in the song “Under the House,” where everyone on stage other than Lydon rhythmically pounds drums together, while he sings / chants.

As a surprise, for the eighth song Lydon dusts off his Rotten character and delves into “Anarchy in the U.K.,” showing he still has some of the fire that lit up the Pistols. While played a bit too sterile (i.e., not sloppy, like the Pistols, but sounding more precise like the studio album/single), I’m not complaining; I sang along with it and enjoyed it. And as not a surprise, after the song, Lydon says goodnight and leaves the stage with the band. Short 33-minute set?

Well, as you can see below, they came back and played nearly as long an encore as the set itself, thankfully. Between each of these songs, though, they leave the stage and then return. Oddly, they end their show with “Public Image.” Why is this odd? Because they began the gig with the exact same song. Happily, it’s a good one.

In all, there is a total performance from beginning to end, and nearly an hour of music. Lydon’s between-song comments are kept to a minimum (thankfully), and the music stands out.

The Rockpalast series was/is far superior to any of the then-contemporary American relatives like Don Kirshner’s Rock Concerts or In Concert, because the German version played the entire show (I have no idea if the original airing had commercials or not), and did not resort to any of the ridiculous special effects that the U.S. ones did, such as split screens, flipping the images, annoying angles, or the dreaded kaleidoscope effect (that’s where there are five images in a circular pattern, and they twirl around the center). Rather, you have clear images using multi-camera editing, and a dynamic sound for its time period (i.e., pre-HD).

There are two extras: the first is a six-minute interview with Lydon done by Rockpalast host Alan Bangs. Lydon seems to be wearing pajamas and a bathrobe (I should go back and see if he’s wearing slippers…). He asks some decent questions, about such topics as the original PiL members (Lydon states that they’re busy with their “own projects,” which is to musicians what “spending more time with their families” is to politicians) and Lydon’s experience working on the film Cop Killer. Before long though, Lydon being Lydon, he gets bored and says, “Are we done?” and walks off. Y’see, Lydon is solid ego. His public persona has always (well, since joining the Pistols anyway) believed that what he feels at any particular moment, is the most important thing, regardless of anyone else’s needs. Now, one can look at this admiringly, as being his own person. I find it’s easier to be like that than have to attended to someone behaving in that manner. Being obnoxious is only good in the first person, but again, Lydon being Lydon, he has never been able to think beyond his own skin. I mean this as an observation rather than a judgment… Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both…

The second extra is the band – with Lydon still in PJs and robe – soundchecking “Annalisa” and “Chant.”

I would recommend this without hesitation. It’s Lydon and his music at the top of his game, and an easy groove with which to have some fun.

Band:
John Lydon: Vocals
Joseph Guida: Guitar
Louis Bernardi: Bass
Arthur Stead: Keyboards
Martin Atkins: Drums

Set List:
Public Image Limited
Annalisa
Religion
Memories
Flowers of Romance
Solitaire
Chant
Anarchy in the U.K.
Encores:
(This is Not a) Love Song
Low Life
Under the House
Bad Life
Public Image II

Vanity Plate No. 5: Queens College and Newsbeat

Introductory piece © Robert Barry Francos, 2012
Main body text and photo by Mark Spector, in Queens College’s Newsbeat newspaper, 1977

For a year and a half in the mid-1970s, I was Arts Editor of the Kingsborough Community College newspaper, The Scepter. In fact, I joined on a Thursday and was elected to the position on the following Tuesday. When I graduated, I figured I would continue the trend and write for one of the newspapers at Queens College, since my work at KCC was such a positive experience, but found it to be a very tricky and painful at Queens, due to their cliquish nature (I have learned since that this is more common than not). First I tried the Phoenix, and wrote two dozen pieces for them, of which they used, in total, one paragraph. After hearing them talk about me when they thought I wasn’t there about how I wouldn’t write about disco so what was the point of my existence, I went next door to the other, competing major on campus paper, Newsbeat. I tried the same tactic of writing first and hoping they would print me, and managed to get about a dozen pieces published, such as LP reviews of Blondie’s first album on Private Stock, Loretta Lynn’s Somebody Somewhere, and Tanya Tucker’s Here’s Some Love. One day the editor, R___ R___, said that he had enough writers (who were his friends), thanked me for my time, and said buh-bye.

This is when I started FFanzeen. I figured, if I couldn’t get anyone else to publish my stuff, I would do it myself. And I did, starting out as a 15-page one-sided ‘zine (though it would become much larger and more professionally printed as the years progressed). I was already somewhat well-known across campus for various reasons, one being I was one of only two people who knew anything about the punk rock scene at Queens; the other was a die-hard Ramones fan, but he was more metal oriented. Another reason was my kicking in the door of the radio station, but that’s a tale for another blog.

The ‘zine and my limited notoriety led to someone from Newsbeat informing me that his editor (the same one who canned me) wanted an article about me and my publication. From the beginning, as he interviewed me in the school’s teacher’s cafeteria (where he also took the photo, above), it was clear that this writer had no interest at all in either me or what I was about, and took as many snarky jabs as he could. He also got a lot of the information wrong, which I will currently comment on via [brackets]. It should be noted for clarity that at the time, the term “new wave” was being used to describe the New York Underground scene, and “punk rock” was the British contribution.

Over the years I’ve come to realize that we were so young then (you never realize it at the time), and therefore had enormous chips on our shoulders. I said some things I look back and feel squeamish about, too. Now, I actually smile when I read this, despite the tone from either of us. We were just in two parallel worlds occupying the same time frame.

At this point I should point out that I did shortly become Arts Editor of a Queens College newspaper, The Globe, which was focused on the Third World politics (many on the paper were Marxists and revolutionaries).

Please note that there is a follow-up to this story at the end of the article! – RBF, 2012

FFanzeen - New Mag for New Wave Rock
By Mark Spector, July 26, 1977

What do you do when the editors of college newspapers frustrate your attempts to publish esoteric reviews of “new wave” Rock and Roll? Well, if you’re Robert Barry Francos, you publish your own magazine and hope somebody buys it.

The first issue of FFanzeen, which sells for $1 at the [campus] record co-op and some record stores in the Village, features interviews with Tom Petty, Blue Ocean [sic], and – are you ready for this – the Cramps. Never heard of any of them? They all have a following that comes to see them regularly whenever they play CBGBs, and Max’s Kansas City.

Francos looks like your typical burnt-out freak who’s trying to keep his brains functioning after taking one hit of acid too many [his insinuation of my drug taking (not something of interest to me before or after his pronouncement) was because I was so naturally thin, at 115 lbs. My aunt cried when she read this part, dude]. His short, skinny frame is clothed with torn jeans held together by safety pins [never have I worn safety pins to hold my clothes together in my life; however, I did occasionally wear a huge laundry pin in my jacket lapel in 1979 after Sid died in his honor] and a Roxy Music tee shirt. In last Thursday’s 104 degree temperature, he was the only person on campus wearing a dungaree jacket. Holes on the sleeves, underarms, and back provided the air conditioning.

But in spite of his appearance, Francos is not heavily into drugs [heavily?!]. In fact, his disfavor for most of today’s popular bands revolves around their appeal to drugged audiences. “Hard rock is for potheads,” he says. “I’m not a heavy pothead” [what I said was, “I am not a pothead”]. He describes new wave music as just basic rock and roll. “If you strip rock to its barest commodities, rip it to its guts, you’ll have new wave.”

Francos first became interested in new wave music, or “punk rock” as it’s sometimes called, in the summer of 1975 while hanging out at CBGBs. The people sitting at the table next to him got up, plugged in their instruments, and started to play. That group was Talking Head [sic]. After they finished, four guys got up and did the same thing. They were the Ramones.

Since then, Francos has amassed a huge collection of albums and singles by groups like Blondie, the Ramones, the Dictators, Sex Pistol [sic], etc. He recites the lyrics with the same enthusiasm and feeling with which teenie boppers in the 60’s [sic] recited Beatle lyrics. But these lyrics are definitely nothing like what would come from the McCartney-Lennon song factory. For instance, one song on the Dictators’ new album goes: “I’d rather slash my wrists / Cut my throat/ Than have to spend a night with you.” [Not only did he get the name of the band wrong – yes, I knew it was Tuff Darts and told him so – but he got the lyrics partially wrong, as well; and as for the “Lennon-McCartney song factory,” what about “Run For Your Life”?] Like any avid fan, Francos knows the meaning of the song and which groupie it’s dedicated to [sic].

Also, like any fan of anything, Francos knows the complete history of the music he loves. New wave music had its roots in England [I said no such thing; it started in New York City and was adapted in the U.K.] where it was known as punk or “dole rock.” Dole is the British equivalent of welfare and most of the original purveyors of punk rock were on the Dole [Under Margaret Thatcher’s government, a large percentage of youth were on the dole, not just punkers].

Punk rock came to America when Richard Hell (that’s right) and Tom Verlaine approached the owner of a small country blues place in the Village and asked him, “Why don’t you showcase rock and roll?” Hilly Kristal liked the idea and changed the name of his club from Hilly’s to CBGBs. Hell and Verlaine were in a group called Television and that became the first group to play at CBGBs. They were followed by Patty Smith [sic], the Ramones, Talking Head [sic], and Blondie.

As punk rock became popular in New York, the record companies came down. The New York Dolls became the first American Punk Rock band to record [years before the opening of CBGBs, Mark]. Neither of their two albums sold very well. The next group to record was Patty Smith [sic] and Francos is certain to point out that she quickly “rose above the new wave.” He explains that many of her followers from the CBGBs days still consider her new wave, but musically she leans toward jazz-rock.

The Dictators’ first album, Girl Crazy [sic], sold only 6,000 copies but their second album, Manifest Destiny, is doing better. Francos insists that “they’re both great albums.” Other new wave bands to record include Television, Talking Head [sic], and the Ramones. “Glitter rock was dying,” Francos observed. “The only thing that was coming out was disco and a lot of people hated disco.”

Francos insists that there is a strong difference between punk rock in Great Britain and what he calls new wave rock in the United States. “In new wave music, the violence lies in the music and the lyrics,” he says. “In British punk rock the groups get physically violent on stage.” English punk rockers are not afraid to throw beer bottles across the nightclub or at each other while on stage. One girl performs with a safety pin through her pierced cheek [I don’t know who he was talking about, and it didn’t come from me].

But still this music is popular. Recently, Sex Pistols released a song called “God Save the Queen.” With lyrics like “God save the Queen / And her fascist regime / She made you all morons / potential H-bombs,” the song was quickly banned from the radio. However, that didn’t stop the song form rising to the top of the British charts.
While Francos was developing his taste for new wave music, disco was becoming popular, and college newspapers refused to print his stuff. At Kingsborough Community College he was restricted to writing movie reviews and he claims that when he came to Queens, neither Newsbeat nor Phoenix would print his material. “When they did,” he charged,” they butchered it up to the point that I couldn’t recognize it as my own.” So, Francos became publisher, editor-in-chief, layout man, photographer, and the only writer for FFanzeen [that was mostly true for the first issue]. “I just figured that if nobody will publish me, I’ll publish myself.”

FFanzeen is a standard fanzine style publication. It consists of 15 mimeographed pages held together by a staple in the upper left-hand corner. Francos hopes to come out every other month and expects to have a larger staff for the next issue. Friends in Boston, Buffalo, California, and Long Island have all offered to write for him.

In the meanwhile, though, Francos has no trouble filing the magazine himself. Getting interviews is easy. “Most of the performers,” he points out, “don’t even take their music seriously. They’re just out to have a good time and they’re easy to talk to [what I actually said was that many bands are more interested in having fun that being considered serious artists].” Francos pointed out that the Ramones still live with their parents in Forest Hills. “The Dictators have a song – ‘(I Live} For Cars and Girls’ [sic]. That says it best.”

Publishing your own magazine can be a big move and if you’re successful you could make a lot of money. Francos’ ambitions are simple. “I’m giving myself five years to buy the Playboy Mansion, kick Barbie Benton out, and replace her with someone else who looks decent” [while I don’t remember saying that last bit, and am a bit embarrassed by it in hindsight, it is a period piece from when I was very, very young…].

2011 Follow-up
As I was preparing this, I managed to find Mark on Facebook, and we had a pleasant exchange about the whole thing. He now runs his own advertising company as a marketing consultant, copywriter, and creative consultant at markspectorwrites.com. There were no hard feelings from either of us, and he seems to have turned out to be an okay guy.

When approached about my reprinting the above, Mark wrote:

Well, Robert,
I'm glad you didn't let that antagonistic and condescending jerk discourage you. It sounds like you had a nice run and a lot of fun with FFanzeen and continue to do so. Very glad to see that! I have no tear sheets (and very few memories) from that period. Though a (big) part of me dreads coming face to face with Mark Spector 1977, none of us are the same people we were back then and hopefully I, like you, can put it in context. I've long since learned to be less full of myself. And congrats on the success and fun you've had with FFanzeen.
Best,
Mark

DVD Review: Iggy and the Stooges: Raw Power Live

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Iggy and the Stooges: Raw Power Live – In the Hands of the Fans
Directed by Joey Carey and Luis Valdes
MVD Visual, 2011
81 minutes, USD $16.95
MVDvisual.com

I am just going to assume that whoever is reading this is a Stooges fan – as well you should be – and does not need for me to go into a history of the band, other than some comments here and there to explain the DVD. Okay with you? Great, let’s get started.

Apparently the In the Hands of the Fans idea is catching on and it is becoming a series; I know of another one about Dinosaur Jr. playing their album, Bug. The premise is simple enough: hold a contest to find half-a-dozen devotees to send video contributions about themselves in relation to the band via various social media. The winners get to meet the Stooges and do an interview, then are handed cameras and they film the show. The footage is later edited together into a flow.

The DVD starts off with clips of some of the winners’ entries, most of them the nerdy, rock’n’roll obsessed type (i.e., like me). One asked a great question which I’m sure got him in: nearly all of the songs on Raw Power fade out, so what happens after that point, when the songs are played live? From there we go to the concert, filmed at the All Tomorrow’s Parties Festival, held at Kutsher’s Country Club (at one time a center of Jewish Catskills comedy and music) at Monticello, NY, on September 3, 2010.

At this festival, the revamped Stooges (James Williamson continuing as replacement for the late Ron Ashton; Scott Ashton on drums; and ex-Minutemen / fIREHOSE – among others – Mike Watt on bass; with Iggy Pop as always in front) decided to perform their seminal LP, Raw Power all the way through, though not in the same order. However, they don’t end there, and play a number of their other hits, including “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” They even mine some in the early post-Stooges Bomp! years (when Williamson came on board). The set list is below.

Part of what is thrilling about this DVD is that it’s the entire concert, rather than just the songs. With the crisp sound and multiple camera work – even though done by amateurs – the viewer gets a full experience of being at the show. Thanks for that!

[Digression paragraph: I only saw Iggy twice, once at the Palladium, off Union Square, in 1977 (backed by the Hunt Brothers; dad Soupy introduced the band and got as much of an ovation as did the band), and another time in the 1980s playing at the more intimate Brooklyn Zoo, a club for a moment in Sheepshead Bay (the Helen Wheels Band opened, if I remember correctly). During the show, someone threw some ice at the Pop-ster, who stopped mid song and firmly stated, “Don’t throw ice at me, motherfucker. This isn’t a request, it’s a command.” He then started the song over from the beginning. They were both great shows. Okay, I’m back now…]

Bathed in blue and red lights, Iggy still manages to keep the energy level high, even at age 63, bouncing around the stage like a marionette on the strings of someone yanking him around. Yeah, Ewan McGregor did a great impression of him in Velvet Goldmine, but there are very few who can command like Iggy when it comes to stage presence. His voice is still in top form, and he knows how to manipulate the willing audience into a frenzy. Total fun (as opposed to “No…”). He is completely at ease with the crowd, and it is amusing how every once in a while he will leaned into the assembly as if to body surf, and some of the club’s security lean over and pull him back in, sometimes by the belt . The security also does a thorough job making sure no one else takes the stage, with the exception of during the song “Shake Appeal,” where Iggy cajoles, “I want dancers, I want spazzers, I want freaks. Get up on the stage with the fuckin’ Stooges. Let ‘em up! We got a dance number, and we need volunteers.”

Even on some of the slower, mid-speed songs like “Penetration” and “Gimme Danger,” there is a force field that waves out from the band, giving these songs no less power than the faster ones. Of course, the main reason is the singer, but it doesn’t stop there. Williamson remains a powerhouse of a guitarist, and a perfect replacement for Ron. He wields a strong ax and isn’t afraid to flail with it. His solos are so different than, say, Jimmy Page, with more intense and terse sounds that are never boring (as some solos can be, such as by, oh, let’s say Jimmy Page). Scott pounds the skins fiercely. While he is a rhythm drummer rather than a “wildman,” he gives the tunes the backing they need, as does Watt, a way underrated bassist. Despite an injured leg (which one would never know by watching the show), he nearly crouches down and follows Iggy’s every move and command (reminding me of Tina Weymouth, of Talking Heads, back in the ‘70s, as she stared nearly unblinking at David Byrne). His bass strumming is amazing to watch and hear. Joining the band is Steve Mackay on tenor sax, who was also an instrumental part of the Stooges era. He shares an interesting atonal exchange with Watt at the end of “1970 (I Feel Alright).”

The crowd is really into the music, which makes the show all the better (though there is some fool towards the front holding up a clear plastic pint beer cup distracting from the action, and I’m sure annoying the people around him/her).

One of the reasons why the Stooges are considered the godfathers of punk (among others) is that the songs are based on stark chords rather than classically straight melodies, and while appearing simple, are actually quite complex. For example, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” always one of my fave riffs, is played faster than on the record, except for the interlude. Plus, it’s easy to tell that the band is having fun, which is transmitted to the viewers, both at the show and those at home.

After the show, Iggy’s allowed to body surf (see the DVD cover, above), and we are introduced to the camera people and we see which angles are whose in the show, a nice touch indeed.
.
The extras are quite interesting here. The main part is the interviews the six winners do with the band backstage, in shifts of three. For 43 minutes (additional above the 81-minute concert time) we hear some great - and others bizarre - questions from the group, and Iggy, as always, proves himself to be quite articulate. For example, he explains that the origin of “Death Trip” is actually taken from the much covered chestnut, “Sea Cruise.” Watt does a great talking ramble (always has), and Williamson and Ashton seem like they don’t really seem comfortable, but actually give some great answers anyway.

Also included, of course, are most of the full videos sent in by the winners. Additionally, there is also a promo for the contest hosted by the great Handsome “Dick” Manitoba (hey, how about a Dictators In the Hands of the Fans reunion for Go Girl Crazy? I would so love that).

The liner notes are long, written by Watt in his wonderful meandering style, with insight, humor, and intelligence.

So, if you’re a street walkin’ cheetah who wants to be a dog coz your pretty face is going to hell, you just have get this excellent document. Even if you turn the picture off and just listen to the soundtrack, it’s worth the death trip.

Set List (original album):
Raw Power (Raw Power)
Search and Destroy (Raw Power)
Gimme Danger (Raw Power)
Your Pretty Face is Going to Hell (Raw Power)
Shake Appeal (Raw Power)
I Need Somebody (Raw Power)
Penetration (Raw Power)
Death Trip (Raw Power)
1970 (I Feel Alright) (Fun House)
Night Theme (Kill City)
Beyond the Law (Kill City)
I Got a Right (I Got a Right)
I Wanna Be Your Dog (The Stooges)
Open Up and Bleed (Open Up and Bleed)
Encore:
Fun House (Fun House)
No Fun (The Stooges)

Rent it here.

DVD Review: From Straight to Bizarre

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

From Straight to Bizarre: Zappa, Beefheart, Alice Cooper and L.A.’s Lunatic Fringe
Executive Producer: Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual, 2011
161 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedream.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

Frank Zappa (RIP, 1993) has always been known as bit of a lunatic, be it his diverse and non-mainstream musical directions, to his meandering anti-censorship rants during the whole ‘80s PMRC debacle led by Tipper Gore (Al’s spouse).

However, it was this borderline behavior that made him able to land a foot on both sides of the line, appealing equally to those in the straight world (i.e., general audiences) and those on the bizarre periphery (i.e., the fringe of culture). Because of this, he became a mediator of the latter to bring them into the former, even if only in the representative form of a 12-inch oil-based black disc with their voices.

As a visionary living in the hills of the Los Angles, Frank attracted groupies (including making them babysitters for then-young son Dweezil and -infant daughter Moon Unit), schizophrenics, control freaks, and rockers trying to find their direction. Obviously, Frank felt a bond with them, as he was usually seen as an “other,” or trickster character on the scene.

After finding some success with his own releases, such as the Mothers of Invention’s seminal Freak Out, Frank managed to get the record label to support his own vanity label, Bizarre, which he started with Herb Cohen; and after they were dismayed by the lack of sales and cancelled it, he started another called Straight (the DVD title has it backwards, y’see), until its collapse in 1973.

To paraphrase a song by the band Sparks, talent wasn’t a needed asset for those who joined in the Zappa stable. Rather, it was a collective of degrees, from very able to those whose personality and oddity weighed in more than culturally classical facility.

Despite being L.A.-focused, their first artist was actually New York singer-songwriter Sandy Hurvitz, who would later go more famously by the moniker Essra Mohawk. According to Mohawk, who is interviewed on this DVD, she had a personal relationship with Frank, which soured, resulting in him leaving her studio tracks unfinished as far as tweaking, and that was the reason for the lack of success of the product. Actually, that becomes the central theme here: Zappa was all gung-ho, something happened between him and the artist(s) with whom he was working, and he bailed on the final work. This was also true for the groupie/dancers-turned-singers collective known as the GTOs (Girls Together Outrageously, two of whom are interviewed here including the lovely Miss Pamela DesBarres), the Alice Cooper band, and Captain Beefheart (RIP, 2010), to name a few.

As for Larry “Wild Man” Fischer (RIP, 2011), the crack in their working relationship happened after his release, when he psychotically accused Zappa of not paying him royalties on records that he believed sold better than it actually did (see the recent film about Fischer, DeRailroaded for his entertaining-yet-sad side of the story), which lead to his one Zappa-released album never to be reissued. Due to health reasons, both mental and physical, Fischer was not a part of this documentary.

While Captain Beefheart was a control freak who kept his Magic Band on a very short leash, Zappa (his ex-college roommate, apparently) was equally prickly, which of course makes the story of the Bizarre/Straight labels all the more interesting looking back in the rearview mirror (as Marshall McLuhan may have put it).

Surely, Zappa is the more recognized name, but Cohen also has his cadre of artists that mostly went nowhere, that are also represented on this DVD, such as Tim Buckley (RIP, 1975), Jerry Yester (ex-Lovin’ Spoonful) and his wife Judy Henske, and Harlem-based R&B a cappella group the Persuasions (lead singer Jerry Lawson tells some great anecdotes here), among others.

For nearly three hours, this Chrome Dreams documentary (this is the second by them on Zappa I’ve seen) keeps the attention level high, by relying more on the people who were there and directly affected, rather than only those who reported on it (though it’s always a joy to see and hear music historian Richie Unterberger). While chock full of rare clips of the band – both visual and aural – it is these recent interviews that really put out tales from the past and make it not just academic, but palpably alive. There are two members of the GTOs (the aforementioned Miss Pamela, and Miss Mercy Fontenot, aka Judith Peters), two from the first lineup of the Nazz, aka the Alice Cooper Band (drummer Neal Smith and bassist Dennis Dunaway), two of the Magic Band (drummer John French, aka Drumbo, and guitarist Bill Karkleroad, aka Zoot Horn Rollo), Essra Mohawk, and scenester and ever creepy Kim Fowley. For the historians, along with Unterberger, there are the likes of Zappa biographers Billy James, Barry Miles and Ben Watson, and others who wrote extensively on the Los Angeles music scene.

This is possibly one of the best of the Chrome Dreams series I’ve been fortunate to see, and I’ve seen quite a few now. By wisely focusing on the musicians and those there, and keeping the music biographers / historians / critics as more of a Greek Chorus rather than the core, they have produced a document that is much more first hand reporting, and thereby making the story more than just second-person circumstantial.

There are two extras (along with the usual contributors bios and an online link): First up is “The Art of Persuasion: Jerry Lawson and Frank Zappa After the Straight Label.” During its 5:40 length, Lawson discusses his band’s contribution to the Frank Zappa tribute album, Frank, after his passing. They did “The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing,” which we hear in a clip.

Second is “Hunger!: The Struggles of the Magic Band,” which describes the diets (minimal, mostly veggies, due to lack of funds) forced on the band by Beefheart, and how this resulted in the band getting arrested for stealing food.

Both of these are fun, and just the right length.



Bonus Videos:

Book Review: Got a Revolution: The Turbulent Flight of the Jefferson Airplane, by Jeff Tamarkin

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Got a Revolution: The Turbulent Flight of the Jefferson Airplane
By Jeff Tamarkin
Introduction by Jann Wenner
Forward by Paul Kantner
Atria Books (NY), 2003
408 pages, hardcover; USD $27.00
ISBN: 0-671-03403-0
Simonandschuster.com

My bad. I was given this book to review a while back by Joe V., and, well, the book ended up boxed for a while, and then it was a matter of out-of-sights came to the forefront. My apologies.


Jeff Tamarkin


I’ve been a fan of author Jeff Tamarkin for years. So, in a case of better late than never – and the fact that the book deserves to be read – here we go:

It can be argued that the Jefferson Airplane was to the San Francisco scene at the height of the Haight-Ashbury hippie scene in the mid-‘60s what the Ramones was to the nascent punk scene in New York in the mid-‘70s: not the only band around that deserved notice, but one that helped spearhead a new sound, and a revolutionary subculture that spread throughout the world.

But calling this book one about the Jefferson Airplane is not exactly accurate. Sure, the band is in the forefront of this story, but Tamarkin wisely doesn’t put on blinders by giving a narrow reading of the time, but rather he shows how the Jefferson Airplane (JA) not only brought the scene to the world, it was also formed and shaped by it. Nothing grows in a vacuum, the old chestnut reads, and the JA is no exception. The Kennedy Assassination, Elvis, the Beatles, Viet Nam (or Vietnam, if you prefer), and the explosion of available pharmaceuticals all played a part in what would foster bands like the Grateful Dead, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and JA, and impresarios like the querulous Bill Graham (who at one time managed JA).

Over the years, Tamarkin has had substantial access to the band, including early and later members, and he wisely uses this to plump up the story using quotes in abbreviated “oral history” style, with direct quote callouts from his own personal interviews (i.e., original material). Even though there are many books about the “Summer of Love” period of San Francisco and the music that arose from it, very few focus this much direct light on this important band. While, in history, singer Grace Slick has been the main focus of much of the media attention (thanks in part to her being a wild card, not to mention attractive), Tamarkin focuses equally on all members of the band, including founder and main vocalist Marty Balin (who is once again becoming musically active), guitarists Jorma Kaukonen and Paul Kantner, bassist Jack Casady, and all of the many living drummers who played with the JA.

But just as the JA was part of the milieu that Tamarkin investigates, this book is not only about the JA, but the various other bands that were offshoots of the original, such as Hot Tuna, Jefferson Starship, and of course, the band with eventually none of the original JA members left who built this city, Starship.

With the exception of an early manager, it seems like everyone who has either been in the band(s), managed it, worked for it, friends with the members, were scene-makers, or saw them crossing the street one day (I say this whimsically, of course), are quoted. This includes wives/girlfriends, ex-wives/girlfriends, and (now adult) kids. Did I mention that this is thorough?

And with all the personal changes in management and in the band(s), such as (also lovely) original singer Signe Toly Anderson and later singer Mickey Thomas, Tamarkin manages to keep them all straight as they weave in and out of the story, in part by giving histories of most of the members, usually going back to the grandparents! While a large and complex mix, even without a scorecard, the reader can follow along through its many pages.

I must admit, at this point, that with the exception of a few songs, I was never a big JA follower (I have their Surrealistic Pillow album, and the 2-disk 2400 Fulton Street “best of” compilation, but it’s not something that goes on my playlist often. Jefferson Starship and Hot Tuna music was around, but I don’t own anything of them, and I’m sure my love affair with the then-contemporary stripped down punk sound is a solid reason for that (though I had forgotten that I liked “Miracles”), and as for Starship, well, everything I heard by them was not just boring, but a clear symbol of everything I hated about ‘80s synth rock (and I’m hardly the only one who feels that). And yet, because of the way Tamarkin describes the music, the scene, and the historical importance of the music, I went back and listened to a much of it (my two sets, and the rest online).

[Sidebar: as the author describes, bassist Casady formed a punk(ish) band named SVT, who recorded a decent single with “Heart of Stone”; I saw them play at the Bottom Line, in New York City… yes, I was on the guest list).]

The fact that Tamarkin can pique my interest to the point of my going back to relistening (and I’m not saying much of my opinion has changed), and kept me riveted throughout, say a lot to both the story, and the way he presents it.

The book has since been released in paperback form (2005), so it may be worthwhile to look into it. Meanwhile, Tamarkin is working with Howard Kaylan (Turtles, Flo & Eddie) on his autobiography, due this year, which I look forward to, as Kaylan is a keystone of the Los Angeles scene of the same period (not to mention having a very sharp tongue).

Bonus Videos:











Marginally-related video:

Club Flyers and Invites from 1970s and 1980s: Part 5

Text (c) Robert Barry Francos, 2012
Images are owned by the artists
Also, images can be enlarged by clicking on them.

As stated in an earlier blog, throughout the years I have collected flyers, especially from the 1970s and '80s. Many were sent to me directly by the bands while I was publishing FFanzeen. Below are some scans I made from my personal collection, in no particular order. I did see many of them, but not all, and I will comment on them from time to time. Note that I do not financially profit off of publishing them, but only do so to honor the work that was involved, and for archival purposes.

While it’s questionable whether Marianne Faithfull’s music of this period is punk, her life sure was hardscrabble at the time of this show. As her amazing book (Faithfull: An Autobiography) explained, a later life of substance dependence and the jealousy of others had a negative effect on her career. Yet, with the emergence of her album Broken English, she quickly captured the New York punk audience… well, the First Wave, anyway. I doubt British punk, hardcore, or neo-garage fans cared one way or another, though the latter may have some converts due to Faithfull’s association with the Stones.

Post-Ramones, Joey (RIP) became a scene maker, especially through his yearly birthday bashes. As you can see, this one had an amazing line-up. After Joey’s passing, his brother Mickey Leigh continued the momentum and has maintained the yearly series. It’s an amazing show, year after year, as it always has been.

Robert Gordon has had multiple lives in the business. Starting out as the voice of the fashionista punk band Tuff Darts (his vocals on “Slash” and “All For the Love of Rock’n’Roll” on the Live at CBGB’s LP are the highlights of an otherwise mediocre release). Quitting the band just as they were about to be signed, he denied his past and went the rockabilly route, in my opinion besting out some of the better known bands, such as the overrated Stray Cats. His solo albums and those with the late Link Wray are classic. They helped keep the fire alive and inspiring others. Once, he was married to Manic Panic’s Snooky Bellomo. Meanwhile, he is still touring.

When this later version of the Hoosier seminal bar rock band the Gizmos played at Max’s Kansas City, there were very few in the audience on the Tuesday night. Well, as I remember it, it was a bloated drunk woman who tried to dance with the band onstage, a guy passed out at the bar, their manager, and me (not counting staff). It was actually a very fun show, and was recorded and pressed to an EP titled Never Mind the Sex Pistols, Here’s the Gizmos (still available on Gulcher Records in CD form with nearly an hour of extras). When you hear someone clapping on the 7-incher, c’est moi.

If I remember correctly, I was invited to this show by Doll House (hence the crossed off names). Unfortunately, I never did get to see the show, nor Doll House. And the only time I’ve seen Cheetah Chrome other than numerous Dead Boys shows and one with the Skels, was playing with Spacely (RIP) and Jerry Nolan (RIP) at the Johnny Thunders Memorial show during the early 1990s.

I did not see the Mad Orphans play, though I met the two leads (then a couple), Cynthia Sley and Ivan Julian, at a taping of Videowave, a cable access television show. Previously, both had been in seminal New York bands: Cynthia with the Bush Tetras and Ivan with Richard Hell’s Void Oids.

SST was one of the leaders in SoCal hardcore, and I’m grateful to have been on their mailing list to get all those great groundbreaking albums at the time. Because of that, when all these bands and artists came to New York, I was well aware of who they were, and their possibilities. I’m not sure why I didn’t attend these shows (probably was away visiting my then-girlfriend), but it was a loss.

With tongue firmly in cheek, the Undead rose from the body of the Misfits, with Bobby Steele (now an ultra-conservative Tea Party follower, fer chrizzake) at its head. No, I didn’t see the Undead, but Bobby’s then-girlfriend, Lori Wedding, posed for the front cover of FFanzeen mag wearing one of our tee-shirts.

Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, my native turf, was nuts about either disco or the Rat Pack, depending on the age of the listener. For me, it was the Ramones, of course, but I never did fit in there. Anyway, somewhere in the area, usually at the Walker Theater on 18th Avenue and 69th Street, or at the Rex Manor in neighboring Bay Ridge, there were often shows catered to the audience of my parent’s generation. Sometimes it would be Jerry Vale or Pat Cooper, and for this particular show, a Rat Pack tribute. Okay, this isn’t a punk flyer, but it’s odd enough, don’t you think? Oh, if I have it correctly, Liza’s impersonator is a drag queen (I wonder if the audience was aware of that?).

Ah, the Elgin. You hadda be there (and, unfortunately, I was). This is a part of New York’s punk history that is almost never discussed, for some reason (not even mentioned on the Elgin’s Wikipedia page). Barbara MacKay, of the gawdawful band the Hot Nuts, tried to make the revival film showcase Elgin Theater into a punk rock palace in 1977. Posting flyers around town lying that Blondie was going to play at the opening (probably hoping they would come anyway), she attracted a modest crowd (including me) to the multi-band opening night. It was awful. The sound was terrible, the bands ranged from hippie to prog, hard rock to pop (including Sweet Star, John Collins, the boring Harry Toledo, Brute Force [not the British “King of Fuh” singer], Kongress, Grand Slam, and White Gold). Heck, there was even some flame swallowing. There was no consistency, and I’m sure the bands felt as ripped off as the audience. The Elgin was gone within the month, and the Chelsea digs is now a dance repertory space.