Miki Zone of THE FAST Sings Gene Pitney [1985]

Text by Julia Masi / FFanzeen, 1985 / 2021
Images from the Internet unless indicated

Miki Zone Sings Gene Pitney

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #13, dated 1985. It was written by Julia Masi.

The Fast essentially went through four phases, starting in the early 1970s and ending well into the 1980s. At the core of The Fast were three Brooklyn brothers: Armand “Mandy” Zone (keyboards, vocals), Miki Zone (guitar and vocals), and Paul Zone (vocals). The first phase was before Paul joined the band; I saw them play the bandshell in Prospect Park around 1973 or ’74. Next was the Fast’s golden era (in my opinion), when they were on the Live at Max’s Kansas City album, doing songs like “Kids Just Wanna Dance,” “Boys Will Be Boys,” and “It’s Like Love.” The third was after Mandy left to form his own band, Ozone, when the Fast became more metal and leather based. They did the same songs, but a lot stronger without Mandy’s pop synth. The last was when Miki and Paul became a Eurobeat twosome with a strong gay focus called Man 2 Man (though originally called Man’s Favorite Sport for a brief moment).

Through all this, Miki’s guitar was a fireball, as he mastered the craft and he became one of the most underrated guitarists on the New York scene. Not surprisingly, he became bored playing the same notes and the same songs, so he would improvise, such as using the eraser ends of pencils to play rather than a pick.

Miki also had some side gigs going on, with a solo project of singing the songs of the great Gene Pitney (d. 2006). Miki died in 1986, and Mandy in 1993. – RBF, 2021

 

Miki Zone in The Fast (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

In any medium, the most difficult part of performing is interpreting someone else’s material, so that it remains fresh and intact, while still allowing individuality and talent to surface. In an era when cover songs are the junk food of our musical menu and “incredible simulations” infest the stage and screen, it’s rare and refreshing to find a performer like Miki Zone, who honors his idols without imitating them.

Last Spring, Miki Zone’s Gene Pitney Review slipped into the New York club circuit without enough fanfare. It’s a short (approximately one hour) cabaret act that’s campy, classy and reveals another side of Miki: his voice!

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that Miki can sing. Nothing he does should surprise his fans after all the musical styles he adapted and discarded over the years, with his brother Paul, in The Fast. But throughout his career, he’s always been known as an instrumentalist and songwriter with a distinctive style. A style that, unfortunately, has yet to be rewarded in the mainstream markets.

Gene Pitney in his heyday, was very heavily absorbed into the mainstream. He is most often remembered for “Town Without Pity,” but he also wrote several dozen Top-40 tunes for himself and people like Roy Orbison, Rick Nelson, the Crystals, and Steve Lawrence. He had a country hit with George Jones, as well as numerous hits in foreign countries that he sang and recorded in almost every language.

Mandy Zone, Paul Zone, Miki Zone

According to the fact sheet that Miki graciously compiles for interviews, Pitney “played all his own instruments on his first single, “I Wanna Love My Life Away,” and would over-dub seven of his voices on the record.” The most interesting item on the list, however, claims that he was “an amateur taxidermist,” a hobby that probably fostered many weepy love songs. He dropped out of the public eye about a decade ago and, since then, there have been only vague rumors concerning his whereabouts or career. [Ed. Note: Pitney died after a performance in Wales, and is buried where he lived in Connecticut. – 2021]

“I don’t want to be a messenger to the masses,” explains Miki, “but it feels good to have people react to the things that they like.” Part of the reason why this act is entertaining is that you don’t have to be a die-hard Pitney fan to appreciate it. In fact, you don’t even have to know who he is to enjoy it. The set is filled with familiar, catchy pop ditties that have been nestled in the cobwebs of our brain for ages. And Miki is not a Gene Pitney clone. He may be able to croon in the same key as the eclipsed star, and dress in the elegant smoking jackets of that era, but only the blind could confuse their faces. Miki’s eyes are riveting. They’re like tiny, brown computer screens beaming with information until he hears a dumb question, then they abruptly shut down to an icy darkness. Luckily, a sincere inquiry – like why would a talented songwriter want to sing someone else’s lyrics – flicks their light switch back on.

“I’ve got a big romantic part of me which I’ve never brought out in the music, which I’m starting to do now. I’ve written a lot of things like that which I’ve never performed. I’ve never used them in any of my past groups.

“I always had an affection for… would you call it torch singing? Or crooning? Not crooning like Alfalfa, but like, crooning like the way Gene Pitney did it. He could sing a rock song like “I’m Gonna Love My Life Away,” or “Hello, Mary Lou,” and he would also sing a ballad like “Town Without Pity” or “Half Heaven, Half Heartache” and still make you wanna cry. Those emotions used to amaze me in any singer, even female singers like Dusty Springfield. People like that amaze me with the way they can milk all your emotions. I always felt that I could do that. Wanted to do that. And that’s what I’m doing. I used to try to emulate his voice. I used to be able to sing like that for years, but I never had a chance to sing in any of my rock bands. I never would sing. It was always up to my brothers (Paul and Armand) to sing.

“The reason I am doing Gene Pitney is it’s a tackling thing to do. He’s got an amazing voice. I’m not saying I can sing like him, but I hang in there with the notes, and I’m proud of that!

“There’s a lot of things in me that I don’t want to have to be Miki Zone to keep on changing them. I’ve changed many, many times over the years. I’ve put The Fast through heavy metal, through glitter rock, through pop, through punk, through many different things. What I did wrong, I’d say, is that it should have been a different group each time. That would have saved a lot of problem and a lot of egos, and a lot of people’s confusion. I should have called it something different every time I went in a different direction. I have a lot of those ambitions to do different kinds of music and I don’t want to be stuck under one name doing it. I’m not in the position of David Bowie, where I can do what I want and still be the chameleon. I have too many other things in my head that I want to do and be. I think I can do them under different titles, ‘cause none of them will step on each other.

Gene Pitney

“The Gene Pitney thing is just the beginning of the acts I’m gonna do. I think I’m gonna be doing a couple of other acts of different people’s materials; other singers, because I like to sing as much as I like to play an instrument. And I just want to get it out of me. It’s just satisfaction for me. Maybe it’s ego, too, to see people enjoying me doing things. I’ve got the best reactions, I think, ever in my career, since I’ve been doing the Gene Pitney thing, just through the response of people.

“I’d rather have different outlets for different things. And if one of them works out better than the others, I’ll follow that one up. But me and my brother will always work together.” Paul and Miki now have a band called Man’s Favorite Sport. Paul is very supportive of his brother’s solo endeavors, and usually helps out with the lights.

Although he’s trying to keep the identities of his other solo personas a secret, Miki has mentioned that one of them will be Bruno Beats, an original character who sings all of Miki’s “romantic, lush pop things. It’s going to be very pop, maybe ‘60s. All the things I wouldn’t use in the group.”

 

 

MARC BOLAN and T. REX: Manchild of The Glamrock Revolution

Text by Nancy Neon Foster / FFanzeen, 2020

Images from the Internet

As I unwrapped the gift, the album cover radiated a golden glow. The photograph was of a figure playing guitar in front of a gigantic amplifier. The guitar player was surrounded by an electric halo. There was something reverent, even religious about the image. Now, I would call the cover of T. Rex’s Electric Warrior iconic. The cover was designed by British art group Hipnosis, based on a photograph by Kieron “Spud” Murphy.

The mystique of this album cover art and the poetic rock’n’roll seduction within changed me and my life forever. I had recently turned 14, but I was still a sheltered child until T. Rex thrust teenhood upon me for the very first time. T. Rex brought color, sparkle, fun, and glamor. Before Marc Bolan burst out, fully formed majestically from his own brow, rock’n’roll meant Elvis Presley and the Beatles, seemingly safe-as-milk music that your mother and grandmother could love. T. Rex was the private territory and personal property of teenagers.

There were no Glamrock boutiques in Greensboro, North Carolina, in 1971, so, I had to use my imagination and creativity to remake myself from a little antisocial nerd-bird to the first glitter girl on my block. I pincurled my hair, wore rhinestone earrings and necklaces borrowed from mommy’s jewelry box, put together strange ensembles from vintage finds, and changed from a Coco Baroque or Too Too Bamboo-lipped mod doll to candy apple-lipped glamrock vixen. At concerts, grown ups called me “acid queen,” although I had barely kissed a boy (a birthday kiss!!!) and I had not touched any drug! When a sweet, innocent former Girl Scout hears T. Rex, there is no turning back.

“Bang A Gong” hit the US airwaves in July 1971, and that was T. Rex’s only Top Ten hit in the US. It sounded like sex, even if I didn’t know exactly what sex was. Those "dirty and sweet” power chords and the explosion of the percussion’s primal boom shot through my head, my heart, and my body.

“Bang A Gong” was often referenced by many bands over the decades, most notably on the first Oasis single, ”Cigarettes and Alcohol.” The single sounded like Johnny Rotten fronting T. Rex, a perfect amalgam for me in the Britpop ‘90s. This proved how much staying power T. Rex had, and when you hear the song today it still sounds fresh and exciting.

Some of my other long-time favorites like Paul Weller of the Jam and Bobby Gillespie of Primal Scream count Electric Warrior as among the greatest. Weller said it is “one of my all-time favorites. The guitar playing is really unique – you know the sound instantly.” Gillespie said “’Bang-A-Gong’ is one of my all-time favorite pop songs. When I was growing up, singles were an art statement. T. Rex was changing all the time. As a fan, you wanted to know what they wore and whether you could follow them to that new place.”

With Electric Warrior, I was hooked. So, I started delving into the past for Bolan treasures and searched for the key to the alchemy that helped create the beautiful and perfect man-child with celestial curls, with his Les Paul as an integral appendage; the fact that Bolan compared his love interest to a car was no small part of the attraction. Bolan conjured lyrics that were equal parts cosmic poetry and rock’n’roll heart.

Marc Bolan’s roots included joining a psych rock group that dressed all in white called John’s Children, with an album and several singles, including “Desdemona.” Next came the folk rock psychedelia of Tyrannosaurus Rex that recorded four albums between 1968-1970. Bolan was on acoustic guitar with first Steve Peregrin Took and then Mickey Finn on percussion The band’s first single, ”Debora,” was released in 1968, and was included on their first album,  My People Were Fair and Had Sky in Their Hair But Now They’re Content to Wear Stars on Their Brow, was released in June 1968. Bolan’s warble was so exotic that the producer, Tony Visconti, thought Bolan was singing in a foreign language. T. Rex, released in December 1970, was the first album under the T. Rex name and bridged the gap between the folk rock psychedelia of Tyrannosaurus Rex and the power chord orgy and hysteria-inducing T. Rex.

Although this was six years after Dylan was booed by folk purists for going electric, Bolan experienced his own “Judas” moment when long-time supporter and personal friend John Peel dismissed the electric phase of his musical career as being a “sell out.” Like his hero Dylan, I doubt Bolan ever did anything to sell out. Bolan, from the earliest age, wanted to be a teen idol. Whatever Bolan did, he did it on his own terms and to fulfill his vision of his ideal self. Bolan, who was always assured of his impending superstardom, was an iconoclast who sought to please himself and his fans. In July 1972, The Slider was released. By this point, it was clear that Bolan was trying to concoct some magical, alchemical sound and spectacle for fans who knew about Presley, the Beatles, and Hendrix but were too young to experience them live. The rock’n’roll cocktail Bolan served up with splashes of Presley, Chuck Berry, Eddie Cochran, Beatles, the Who, and Hendrix, shaken not stirred for the coolest, most iconic superstar potion, like the visitor from Lord of the Rings reimagined as a Dylan coiffed vampire troubadour who rocked a Les Paul, not a lute. Such perfect pop, but so deliciously strange like a sweet drink with a bitter, yet addictive after-taste.

Was this really 48 years ago?! Bolan’s songs retain power and relevance, and have even more resonance for me today despite their being close to half a century old. Right now, we have the bad orange man failing to lead during a worldwide pandemic and we need songs like “Metal Guru.” It is comforting to me, imagining a futuristic extraterrestrial with corkscrew hair serenading me, freeing my body like Presley, and freeing my mind like Dylan. “Mystic Lady” seduces. “Buick Mackane” takes you by force. “The Slider,” ”Baby Boomerang,” ”Spaceball Ricochet,” “Telegram Sam” and “Baby Strange,” and the rest, are all a part of me on a cellular level. Every nuance of every song is in my DNA.

Tanx was released in January 1973, and was described as “interstellar soul,” which I believe influenced David Bowie’s Young Americans. Some wonder if there ever would have been a Ziggy Stardust had there been no T. Rex. I feel Bowie – as well as Prince – owe debts to Bolan musically, fashion- and image-wise. “Born to Boogie” and “Life Is Strange” stand out on the 1994 CD version of Tanx, along with other greats like “Children of The Revolution,” ‘Solid Gold East Action,” and “20th Century Boy.”

Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow released in February 1994 was celebrated by neither fans nor the critics. “Teenage Dream,” which reached #14 was Bolan’s last hit until “New York City” in 1975.

Light of Love was a US-only album in 1974, with 3 tracks from Zinc Alloy, with eight songs recorded at Music Recorders in Hollywood that would end up on Bolan’s Zip Gun, released in February 1975. Ken Barnes wrote in a Rolling Stone review, ”Bolan’s vocals still retain the amphetamine amphibian warble, but at times his snarl is tough enough to rival the Seeds, a considerable achievement.”

Zip Gun was Bolan’s tenth album. Bolan continued in an R&B-influenced vein, joined by Gloria Jones of “Tainted Love” fame. Futuristic Dragon brought a return to form in January 1976. “New York City” is a blast and ushered in the moment where Bolan reinvented himself as the “godfather of punk.” This phase saw him promoting punk era bands like the Jam, Generation X, Eddie and the Hot Rods, and  the Boomtown Rats on his television show, “Marc.” Moreover, Bolan booked a sellout show in London with the Damned.

Dandy in the Underworld, the eleventh album, was a swan song of sorts, about six months before Bolan left this mortal coil due to an auto accident just short of his 30th birthday. Great title, great photo, great songs-helping fans keep a little Marc in their hearts. Sadly, I never saw Marc Bolan live, but I asked a friend, Binky Philips of the Planets what it was like to experience the splendor of T. Rex in the flesh. Binky said, “I saw T. Rex at Carnegie Hall on February 27, 1972. I was crazy about their singles they had put out and I was intrigued by how Marc Bolan was a one-man Beatlemania in the UK. I’d been an Anglophile since February 9, 1964. So, I was well-versed on all things Brit. The Carnegie Hall show might have been the most exciting first ten minutes of any gig I have ever seen. The band hit the stage with every stage light blazing. Marc was wearing a satin jacket over a white t-shirt that had his own face covering his entire torso. I was just dazzled by that over-the-top ego trip. They launched into my own top five favorite T. Rex song, ”Cadilac”(no typo), a track relegated to a B-side and not on any album. I thought that was fantastically ballsy. The whole audience felt like it was on the verge of screaming like 13-year-old girls, the opening was so strong that Marc and Mickey and Steve and Bill just could not sustain the excitement. But T. Rex made a delicious ungodly noise that I can still hear in my mind’s ear.”

The delicious ungodly noise is what got T. Rex inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year. I voted for the band and was excited more than any induction before. The event was supposed to be held May 5, but because of the pandemic, the festivities were rescheduled for November 7, 2020. Congratulations to drummer Bill Legend, the only living member of T. Rex. Congrats to Bolan’s son, Rolan, and his mother, Gloria Jones, and all the band’s family, friends, and admirers. Congratulations and thanks to Mark Feld Bolan, who is still the prettiest star.

I believe Bolan is grinning down from his “armor plated chair” (throne?) on the astral plane and there is an angel polishing his “hub cab diamond star halo.”

CHEAP PERFUME Fills the Air [1980]

Text by Marc Silver / FFanzeen fanzine, 1980

Introduction by Robert Barry Francos © FFanzeen blog, 2017

Images from the Internet

Cheap Perfume were a rockin’, all-woman band that was underrated in the New York Scene, and deserved better. I had the opportunity to see them a couple of times in 1977-78, and was happy to give them their due by publishing this piece. They have reformed a number of times, sometimes with the lead singer who had moved to the other coast, other times with the rest of the band filling in vocally.

Please note that this has nothing to do with the Colorado-based band with the same name, which was formed in 2015.

This interview was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #5, dated August/September 1980. It was written/conducted by Marc Silver. I have lost track of Marc, so if anyone knows his whereabouts, please let him know about this!

Cheap Perfume occupies the niche of the top-drawing all-female band in New York. Their music is self-described as “power-pop with a rock’n’roll edge.” Performances are vibrant and chock-full of ass-kicking rock’n’roll. The majority of their material is original, but their unique covers range from the Beatles’ “Boys” to a version of the Tokens’ “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” complete with choreographed dancing in the aisles.

Brenda, the drummer, had recently crushed her ankle and was partying the time away in the dismal dungeons of the Metropolitan Hospital. Also present for the interview at the hospital were L. and Nancy Street, lead singer and rhythm guitarist, respectively. Sue Sheen [Palermo], bassist, and Bunny LeDesma, lead guitarist, were AWOL.

Brenda [Martinez-White]: In the beginning I created the Earth and the heavenly bodies. No, at the start it was Zoey, Susan and me. But I didn’t consider that the band.

Nancy Street: I noticed an ad in The [Village] Voice for a female vocalist and I said to myself, “I know just the girl,” meaning L. She auditioned and I tagged along.

L [Lynn Odell]: It was a package deal.

FFanzeen: When did Bunny join?

Brenda: Eight months ago.

FFanzeen: After Zoey left?

Brenda: Yes

FFanzeen: Did your material change much?

L: The material changed drastically. Most of the songs up to that point had been written by Zoey and her boyfriend, so we had to give those songs up.

FFanzeen: Who’s doing the writing now?

Nancy: Susan and I, and we’ve got friends who give us songs.

FFanzeen: How would you describe your music?

Brenda: It’s hard.

L: It’s pop. It’s definitely pop. It’s not punk. It’s not heavy metal. Pop pretty well rounds it off. It’s under the genre of New Wave, but certainly not punk.

Nancy: Power pop, with a standard rock’n’roll edge.

FFanzeen: Who are the major influences in your songwriting?

Brenda: Mostly guys.

FFanzeen: I’ll ask you about that later.

Nancy: I’m influenced by the Beatles and the Who. Susan is influenced by…God knows…Frank Zappa, Ian Hunter, Mick Ronson, Southside Johnny, Greg Kihn…

L: Uncle Floyd.

FFanzeen: On stage, Bunny for example, is styled after Keith Richards.

Nancy: Very Stones.

Brenda: Very stoned!

FFanzeen: Do any of the rest of you ever mimic your rock heroes?

Nancy: I do try to do the Pete Townshend windmills.

L: And it looks ridiculous.

Nancy: But I try. I don’t do it very often and I’m not very good at it. But after a few vodkas…

FFanzeen: What would it take to get you to slide across the stage on your knees?

Nancy: I’d pass out before then. But really, I don’t try to emulate anyone.

Brenda: I have my own style.

L: Nobody plays like her.

Brenda: [to L.] And who do you try to sing like?

L: Well, my major influences are from acting. I’m very theatrical on stage. I move around a lot. I don’t just stand there and turn around in circles, like Debbie Harry.

Nancy: It particularly bothers me when you see a band who are obviously on a Who trip or a Beatles trip. There’s a band in the New York area where the lead singer is doing all the Roger Daltry moves, the lead guitarist is doing all the Pete Townsend moves, and the drummer thinks he’s Keith Moon. It’s disgusting. It’s stupid; I resent it. It’s one thing to have influences, but it’s another to have it completely take over your performance.

FFanzeen: This is the definition of a cover band. Have you played outside of New York?

L: We played DC twice; Upstate at Hamilton College [Clinton, NY].

FFanzeen: What were the audiences like?

L: In Washington, they’re pretty civil. They’re a little too civil. They’re boring.

Brenda: They don’t get into it heavily.

L: Upstate, forget it. We had to beat them back with hammers. It was like they had never heard music before.

Nancy: We played the Hot Club in Philly. They loved us. We beat them off with sticks.

L: They were all lesbians. We had to barricade the dressing room.

Brenda: We played a prison once, in Danbury, Connecticut.

L: They weren't wild about us. We were girls, and that they were into, not the music.

Nancy: It was a white collar prison; tax evaders.

L: Where Nixon should be.

FFanzeen: What makes you different from other all-girl bands?

L: Most of them don’t get any further than forming a band. There are a few that you hear about once or twice and then they’re gone.

Brenda: Do you know how hard it is to keep girls together?

FFanzeen: I know how hard it is to keep them apart.

Nancy: Cheap Perfume is very significant to each of us. It is the first and only band any of us have ever been in.

FFanzeen: On stage, it looks as though there’s no jealousy over the spotlight.

Brenda: We’re pretty good about that.

FFanzeen: But I have seen you run into each other on the way into the spotlight.

L: Well, Bunny needs a pair of glasses.

Brenda: We should hold a benefit for Bunny’s glasses.

L: She’s walked into my mic stand three times.

Brenda: But she never misses a cute guy.

FFanzeen: Being an all-girl band might be thought of as a gimmick, but it’s obvious that you’re serious about yourself as musicians. How do people seem to react to you?

Nancy: In the beginning it was a good gimmick and we never had any trouble getting gigs.

Brenda: People still come up to me and say, “You know, you’re pretty good for girls.”

L: At first they were right, because nobody had come anywhere near mastering their instruments. And now, although we don’t have it by the tail…

Brenda: – We have it by the asshole –

L: …We do pretty well.

Nancy: I’d like to think that the timing is right for an all-girl band. It’s more than accepted. Chrissie Hynde is the rhythm guitar player for the Pretenders. Girls are becoming more than just the lead singer.

Brenda: Nancy Wilson of Heart is a fuckin’ hot lead guitar player.

Nancy: I think that the lack of female musicians is a problem from our teen-age. It wasn’t accepted for little 13 year olds to be picking up an electric guitar.

FFanzeen: There were no role models.

Nancy: I think that now there will be a greater mix in the near future. There will be more groups like the Nervus Rex and Talking Heads.

FFanzeen: Unisex bands.

L: I’d like to think that we’re responsible for a lot of girls getting musically involved in the New York scene.

FFanzeen: Almost all of your songs are about guys and are sexually suggestive. Despite your musical social ability, it wouldn’t be outlandish to call this an exploitation or even a gimmick since you’re an all-girl band.

L: Most rock’n’roll songs are about guys, girls…

FFanzeen: Cars, money…

L: Sex, drugs. That’s all. They’re standard themes.

FFanzeen: I don’t buy that. All your songs are about guys, not any of those other subjects.

Nancy: They’re really not. Only one: “Tommy.”

FFanzeen: What about “Overnight Angel,” “Boys,” “Back Alley Lovin’,” “Todd’s Song,” and especially “Too Bad”?

L: “Too Bad”? No, you misinterpreted the song. It’s not about a guy, it's about missing a chance, about being in a situation where you know if you did it right, you could have it. Anything – a guy, a girl, money – anything. But you blow it for one reason or another.

* * *

Anyway, Cheap Perfume is a hot act with many surprises. They’re tight and fast and they’ll leave ya beggin’ for more. They’re avoiding recording until they get the right producer. Definitely a professional move.

As soon as Brenda is out of the hospital, Cheap Perfume will be gigging up and down the East Coast under the guidance of Spotlight Enterprise. I’m looking forward to it.

Review: Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy

Directed by Danny Garcia                  

Chip Baker Films / MVD Visual

94 minutes, 2016

www.chipbakerfilms.com

www.mvdvisual.com

I’ve certainly been in the same room with Sid and Nancy, especially the latter considering the sheer number of times I’ve seen the Heartbreakers, her band of choice before latching onto Sid. But my strongest connected and contributing memory is coming home from a show (if I remember correctly, the bands were The Fast and Crayola) in the late 70s, after the break-up of the Sex Pistols and before Nancy’s death, and seeing an inebriated and stumbling Sid kicking a guy passed out on the sidewalk on 8th Street, between McDougall and Sixth (Ave of the Americas, to those who don’t know better). Needless to say, I walked on, without talking to him. About a year later, he and Nancy were legends and newspaper fodder.

It makes sense that this documentary was made by the same people/director as the excellent Looking for Johnny: The Legend of Johnny Thunders [reviewed HERE], because Thunders and his band the Heartbreakers were a key catalyst in the lives of Sid and Nancy. Y’see, Nancy Spungen was a Heartbreakers’ friendemy/groupie who joined in with the band in its proclivity for hard drugs. These bits of fact, mentioned as raindrops at the beginning, including the elements of the Heartbreakers going to London to tour with the Sex Pistols, thereby opening up an opportunity for Nancy to go to the UK to get herself a Sex Pistol (much in the way the story goes that Linda Eastman did the same with the Beatles, and ended up with Paul).

There is a bit of irony in the whole story of the Pistols and Heartbreakers, as the Pistols famously wrote a derogatory song about the Heartbreakers (or New York Dolls, depending on how you read the lyrics) in a song called “New York” (“You're just a pile of shit / You're coming to this / You poor little faggot / You're sealed with a kiss”) to which the Heartbreakers responded with their own “London Boys” (“You're telling me 'shut your mouth' / If I wasn't kissing, you wouldn't be around / You talk about faggots, little momma's boy / You sit at home, you got a chaperon / You need an escort to take a piss”); you didn’t think in-song insults started with rappers, did you? After all that, Thunders and Vicious became good buds at some point.

The introduction of these elements led to a drug shitstorm that would rock the music scene as the Heartbreakers (and Nancy) introduced the use of heroin to Punk’s British Second Wave. Nancy, of course, latched herself onto Sid, but with all the tenuousness of the violence and mind/physical altering substances of their relationship, it’s hard to argue that they loved/needed/were dependent on each other (much as Linda and Paul were an actual couple beyond how they met). With Nancy holding the needle and the dime, she brought Sid into a world he may never have explored (though that is debated in the film), and eventually to New York.

As the film demonstrates through a large number of oral history interviews with varying memories and opinions about what would happen between the death of Nancy and that of Sid on Feb 3, 1979 (exactly 20 years after the crash that took the life of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and J.P. The Big Bopper Richardson). The general consensus seems to be that Sid could be a sweetheart or a terror, depending on the day or what was flowing through his system, but Nancy was just a horrendous human due to mental problems, substance abuse, and a “whiney” voice that could shatter glass. Her mom, Deborah, tried to explain it in a defensive and angry, self-serving auto/biography, And I Don’t Want to Live This Life (the book goes unmentioned, and Debbie is only brought up once).

To get down to the nitty-gritty, the film is extremely well put together with a very limited budget. I have always enjoyed different theories types of documentaries, that doesn’t try to come any real conclusion by itself, or have an answer in mind, and that uses the interviews to support ideas, rather than coming to one on its own. While one of the two trailers included in the extras claims it does, I’m happy to say it doesn’t really. However, it does posit a bunch of credible theories and lets the viewers come to its own possible choice of solution. The latter part of the film sometimes feels more like a murder mystery than a narrative, which I feel is a plus.

There are so many people from the period present, especially in the New York Scene of the 1970s, from fans to musicians, that experienced the Sid/Nancy phenomenon first-hand. Some include Walter Lure, Rockets Redglare, Cynthia Ross, Donna Destri, Lenny Kaye, Andy (Adny) Shernoff, photographer Bob Gruen (who went on the bus with the Pistols for their US tour), the late-great Leee Black Childers (who owned a leather jacket back then I truly envied), Howie Pyro (of The Blessed and D Generation, and who infamously snorted some of Sid’s ashes), Hellin Killer (who was with him the night Sid died), Sylvain Sylvain, and so many others. It also includes the one person I really wanted to hear, which was “Neon” Leon Matthews, a musician and fellow Chelsea Hotel resident that disappeared for a number of years after Sid died (only to resurface decades later in Europe). For a long time it was believed he held the key to the answer to what happened that night, and I am really grateful to be able to hear his side of that night.

Wisely, the interviews are intercut and short, so no one story goes on long enough to become burdensome to anyone who doesn’t really know these people talking about their affiliation to these two desperate and media-legendary victims. Also, the stories themselves are interesting and keep apace. Hearing the differences in opinion and events makes for conversations on what happened with the viewers going after the film ends. My only gripe is that the names are only shown the first time the talker is presented. I knew most of them, but the few I didn’t got lost on me as I heard more of their involvement. Also, it is a pleasure that everyone who talks had some direct action in the events, rather than hearing from journalists who report their indirect opinions on second-hand stories (as I hypocritically do at the end of the review).

As for the budget, well, it’s pretty easy to see the constraints, and I’m saying this as a positive considering the achievement and fascination of the film. For example, we see a B-roll of the Pistols playing live, and the Heartbreakers’ “All By Myself” is playing on the soundtrack. In fact, there is no Pistols music at all, and only a quick live snippet of Sid at Max’s; Sid’s “My Way” and “C’mon Everybody” is mentioned, just not heard. There are some pretty infamous clips though, including the drugged out Sid & Nancy in bed from the film D.O.A. (1980). The big head scratcher for me is that we don’t hear Johnny Thunders’ elegy for Sid, for which this film is named.

Other than the two trailers mentioned previously, there is also a Heartbreakers music video for “Take a Chance” that is linked to the film through clips. But the standout for me is the 18-minute extra of interviews. There are five, and it was right to take them out of the film due to their length and as they don’t really contribute to the story; however they were among my favorite anecdotes, especially the one by Donna Destri. Definitely watch it all of this extra all the way through. And did I mention the DVD comes with a free film poster?

So, yeah, the director/producers certainly achieved what they set out to do, and it makes sense that they preceded this with one about Thunders. I’m really looking forward to what’s next (I’m hoping one about Stiv Bators of the Dead Boys, though I haven’t heard anything about it).

And, for what it’s worth, here is the version of the story as I heard it at the time, though I can vouch for none of the validity: Sid and Nancy were expecting to have a big drug deal go down, and so they gave much of their valuables to friends for safeguarding; Johnny got Sid’s jacket, which he wore from then on, in good faith (i.e., he never sold it for, well, let’s say rent). The drug dealer gave them samples, enough to knock out Sid, and then made a move on Nancy; she rejected him, and he stabbed her. When Sid found out what happened, he felt guilty that he had passed out, and then left her to go to his methadone appointment in the morning, saying to the police, “I killed her,” meaning he didn’t protect her. The cops heard it as a confession (parts of this are echoed in the film).

Who know what would have happened if Sid had cleaned up. Would he be famous rather than infamous? Ponderous thoughts.

The Last Ramones Interview [1977]

Text © Bernie Kugel / Big Star fanzine, 1977
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016
Images from the Internet

These interviews were originally printed in Big Star fanzine, issue #3, dated Spring 1978. It was written by its publisher, Bernie Kugel, who kindly granted permission for this reprint.

I’ve had the opportunity to hang out with members of the Ramones three times. The first time was when Bernie interviewed them for the Buffalo State College magazine, Shakin’ Street Gazette, just before July 4, 1976, in the dressing rooms of Max’s Kansas City. This was the night before they headed off for their first tour in England. The next time was more accidental: we were heading up the stairs on our way to the offices of Sire Records when we ran into Joey on his way down. We had a nice conversation for a while, and then when we arrived at the office, we were given the pre-release, white label first Ramones LP (yes, I still have it). If it had been in reverse order, I would have had him sign it. The last time was during an interview with Joey for Videowave at Arturo Vega’s apartment in 1997, after the band broke up. He was wearing a butcher’s apron that said “Happy Birthday Oedipus” for a special recording he did to be played at the Boston DJ’s party (we watched them film it). I took the apron when we left as it had been finished, and found out he was furious about it. I made sure he got it back; part of me wishes I had kept it though.  

This piece was supposed to be part of a series, but as it was the last issue of Big Star, this was also the – er – last Ramones interview for the ‘zine. By the way, Bernie asks some great questions, rather than the usual nonsense people tend to ask over and over. – RBF, 2016

(The following comments are from conversations recorded in New York City and Buffalo in ’76, ’77, and ’78. And fear not, Ramones fans, for even if this is The Last Ramones Interview, the one that will make it totally unnecessary to ever do another interview with them, this is a multi-part article which is beginning now and will be continued in future issues.)

1978

Bernie: Do you have a favorite English new wave band now?

Joey Ramone: Clash. I like the Adverts.

Bernie: Do you have favorite songs by the Clash and Adverts?
Joey: I like the album; The Clash album’s great. I like “Gary Gilmore’s Eyes.” I like Gaye Advert; that’s what I like about the Adverts.

Bernie: Do you have favorite New York bands now?

Joey: Naah. I like Suicide… I don’t like many groups in New York… I don’t like many New York groups that haven’t gotten anywhere, like Blondie [did]; they’ve kind of made it. But of groups around now, there’s nothing around now besides the Cramps and Suicide.

Bernie: Do you look back to one special concert or set and think that was the best you ever did?

Joey: We just finished an English tour and that was fantastic. I can’t really think of any jobs in particular, 'cause everything’s been going really, really great.

Bernie: Do you ever think back to the early days at CBGB’s, playing to a few people, and think you wanna return there?

Joey: Naah, I try to forget about those days. I don’t think about those days.

Bernie: It says in the Bomp Newsletter that your brother [Mickey Leigh – RBF, 2016] plays guitar on some of the Ramones records.

Joey: He did the claps in “Sheena,” but that’s about it. [Check out Mickey’s book, I Slept with Joey Ramone: A Family Memoir, for more of the actual story – RBF, 2016]

Bernie: You like the Flamin’ Groovies?

Joey: Yeah.

Bernie: Do you have a favorite song of theirs?

Joey: “Shake Some Action,” “Please Please Girl.” When we were in England, we went to an NME party and they were playing, and they’re putting out a new album and I can’t believe they were playing these songs; man, they were playing “Paint It, Black” and all these Stones songs. I couldn’t believe they were playing those songs instead of their own songs because their own songs are so great. But they’re putting out “Paint It, Black” and Dave Edmunds is producing. And they’re putting out – what’s that song – “Feel a Whole Lot Better”?

Bernie: “I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better,” the Byrds song???

Joey: Yeah, yeah. They did that great.

Bernie: Have you ever played with a member of the band sick?

Joey: Yeah, all the time. We’re always sick.

Bernie: But I mean when one member of the band was so sick they couldn’t play and someone else had to replace them.

Joey: Oh, no, no… I mean, it doesn’t matter how sick we are we always play unless we’re really fucked up.

1977

Bernie: Ever see Richie Ramone anymore?
Joey Ramone: Naah. John saw him though the other day. I think he’s just like been in his house for the past two years and hasn’t come out.

[Bernie: What do you do for fun when you’re on tour?]

Joey: All I’ve been doin’ when I’ve been going to a record store is like… spending everything… broke.

Bernie: You should see the store across the street [Play It Again Sam’s, which would soon become Home of the Hits; both stores were Buffalo landmarks – RBF, 2016].

Joey: Yeah, the last few stores we’ve been going to are like that… yeah, I was at this store, it was a real gourmet collectors' store. The guys would just play albums in the little store and have a pile like this for a buck… used stuff.

Bernie: You don’t think they’ll be a lot of Ramones solo singles in the near future?

Joey: No, I don’t think so… maybe later, later on.

Bernie: Have you heard any records by any non-New York groups that make major label records that you thought was any good?

Joey: I don’t think so. I’m always listenin’, but I never hear nuthin’. I think it’s really exciting when you come upon something new that no one’s ever heard. But that hasn’t happened in a while… But I’m really into collecting and checking out those English bands.

1978

Bernie: “Babysitter” never came out; what happened with that?
Joey Ramone: Well, it’s out in England on the Leave Home import. I think what we’ll eventually do is put it out on the B-side of a single over here.

Bernie: Do you have any songs from the real early days you don’t do anymore?

Johnny Ramone: “Succubus,” “I Can’t Be,” “Girl What You Want From Me,” “I Just Want Something to Do,” “I Don’t Wanna Get Involved With You,” “Why Did She Write that Letter,” “Crazy Animal Stomp,” which became “Listen to My Heart,” “I Don’t Wanna Be Learned, I Don’t Wanna Be Tamed”…

To Be Continued [Not – RBF, 2016]