HELEN WHEELS: The Interview (1983)

 © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 1983/2022
Images from the Internet unless indicated

I have told this story before: before I even knew who punk/metal vocalist and songwriter Helen Wheels was, she made a deep impression on me. Though unidentified, she turns up at the CBGB bar in the 1978 film, Punking Out, where she mentions that she is never bored, as she fidgets around; the full 25-minute film is linked HERE; Helen’s comment is at about 22 minutes. Her strong personality and sharpness shook me up for some reason, and made me look at my own life.

Born Helen Robbins, it was the Dictators’ Handsome Dick Manitoba who gave her the “Wheels” to her name. But her larger claim to fame was as a songwriter who penned some songs for Blue Oyster Cult, including the B-side of “Don’t Fear the Reaper," “Tattoo Vampire.”

The petite and muscular Helen formed the Helen Wheels Band, and I knew I had to interview her. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Helen Wheels being not bored in Punking Out

Helen Wheels: The Interview (1983)

Helen Wheels’ stage persona may appear to be a frightening one. She licks knives and sticks them into the stage reasonably close to the audience, and shoots a pistol – point blank – into the crowd. With blanks, of course.

Her prior two bands, made up of biker types, added to this mounting paranoia. In these two previous forms, Helen’s music was not overly appealing to me. True, she wrote some cuts for Blue Oyster Cult’s infamous Agents of Fortune album (the only one I like, actually), the music she performed was heavy metalish, which was not the kind I wanted to hear.

So, with some reluctance, I went to see a Helen Wheels Band show (honestly, she was playing with a band I wanted to see) and I liked what I saw. Then her six-song EP, Post Modern Living (on Real American Records) came out and I was a bit more impressed, but the funk strumming was a bit tough for me to take at times. Despite all this, I found myself going to more of her shows at varied locations, from CBGB to the School of Visual Arts (SVA). Before I realized it, I was entrapped by the powerhouse. Her music is more down-to-earth rock’n’roll than previous incarnations, and I’ve come to love the record. What’s more, but don’t tell anyone, Helen Wheels is a pussycat. Her values are vastly different than my own liberal ones, and there are beliefs she holds true that never entered my ken. She’s open and has an infectious personality that’ll knock you on your ass.

There are a lot of things I could have asked Helen about, from her connection to BOC to her stance on UFO culture and her own abductions, to her tattoos, but I decided against that for being too obvious. So, when I interviewed her at the Brooklyn Zoo (March 26, opening for Iggy Pop), I walked in with only one question on my mind.

FFanzeen: In the movie Punking Out, there’s a shot of you at the bar of CBGB, saying that you’ve never been bored in your whole life.

Helen Wheels: Yep, it’s true. I’m still never bored. I’m so busy all the time doing stuff, and if I don’t have something else to do. I just go over and pump some iron.

FFanzeen: How long have you been doing that?
Helen: Kinda in a less serious way, for a couple of years, but quite seriously for three months. At least four days a week. I find it’s something that’s making me extremely happy, as well as strong. I mean, I can bench press 130 pounds now, which is quite a bit more than I weigh. I guess it stimulates the blood, but just being strong, you have a new kind of confidence. I mean, I was always strong and I always carry a big knife, but now, sometimes I don’t even carry my knife. It makes you feel pretty cocky and good. It’s my latest favorite thing to do – when I get sick of making phone calls and booking the band, and making posters and all that other stuff, and I still work on the wardrobe, making new costumes. Plus, the way I keep from being bored is that I haven’t had a television in 12 years, so that really helps. I think television is a negative kind of thing – video games – kind of programming things. And I think it gets people kind of depressed and down, so I read a lot, and pumping iron is the best thing for me lately. It makes me feel really cheerful. It must stimulate certain hormones or something, because I get really high off it. The same kind you get off singing, from the oxygen. I really enjoy it.

FFanzeen: Before you were doing it seriously, you were always in good shape; muscular.
Helen: Yeah, for years I’ve always had a set of dumbbells around and I would lift, here and there. I always enjoyed doing any kinds of test of strength: arm wrestling (for example). But I find it’s also amazing because it’s the only way I’ve ever heard of to actually get a perfect body.

FFanzeen: So you do more exercise than just lifting weights.
Helen: I do chinning, I have a trapeze. I hang upside down, do sit-ups hanging upside down, and I have a bench. I also have, like, leg presses, and extensions.

FFanzeen: You have all this where you live?
Helen: Yeah, I’ve got a home gym. I even got a little trampoline to run on.

FFanzeen: Isn’t it better to work out with a coach present?
Helen: Yeah, my boyfriend’s my coach. He’s great. He did a lot of weight lifting when he was younger, and now we work out together. The main thing is to keep good form, whatever you do, because you can hurt yourself pretty badly.

FFanzeen: Are you going to start competing?
Helen: I was fantasizing about competing in this contest in Queens, but I might wait until there’s one in Manhattan, ‘cause I really don’t want to take the subway out in my little posing suit. Actually, I have to get a posing suit. I don’t have anything quite small enough.

(ffoto by Robert Barry Francos)

FFanzeen: You could always use your leather bikini (that she uses on stage).
Helen: [laughs] Some of those girls really don’t have too much on. I’ve recently become friends with the middleweight Miss America, Leslie Barber, who is absolutely incredible. She’s my height and she has, like, fourteen-inch biceps. She’s great.

FFanzeen: Have you ever been interviewed by any bodybuilding magazines?
Helen: Yes. As a matter of fact, a magazine called Lady Athlete photographed me at the Ritz on Monday. They’re doing a big piece on me. They did “before” pictures, where I’d only been working out for a couple of weeks. They may be here tonight also, with the editor of Body and Power, which is the biggest bodybuilding magazine. The writers have taken a lot of interest in me, because they feel I might be good for the sport, in a sense. Women’s bodybuilding is a very young, fledgling sport, and people have a lot of misconceptions about it. Like at the competitions, there might be 300 men and eight women.

FFanzeen: What kind of misconceptions?
Helen: Oh, you know, that the women are gonna end up being, like 230-pound bull-dykes after six weeks. It doesn’t happen, because women don’t have testosterone. They have different hormones, so the main thing that most women will get first is that they’ll lose their body fat, which will make them happy. And then they’ll get definition. And they’ll get strength.. If you have a bad back, it helps your posture a lot, as long as you watch your form.

FFanzeen: Maybe I should try it.
Helen: A lot of people I know are, just because they see what it’s doing for me. I think it’s real positive in the same way that I feel, like, with our rock’n’roll: we’re really trying to show a strong, healthy, American image. Strong is the right word, rather than the kind of degenerate, debilitated Communist-junkie thing that is really what the media is putting out. You know, I won’t name names, but they really love the bands where there’s drug addicts, and stuff, because those people are so easy to manipulate. Put them in the big-time, tell them what to do, how to act, what to wear; you can’t put this song on the record, you put this one on. I firmly believe there’s a major conspiracy going on in this country, and the way it affects rock’n’roll is that they choose the patsies, rather than strong artist who want to control their own image and their own music. They can’t control us. To me, the bodybuilding fits in perfectly with what I’m trying to say with my music, which is, “look to yourself. Be strong yourself, because we’re the only ones who can turn this country around.” I firmly believe we’re the only country – unless there are some other free countries that have a Constitution (and) a Bill of Rights – that encourages creativity and invention, instead of squashing it. I mean, there is no rock’n’roll in Russia, there’s no rock’n’roll in Poland. They only give you disco, because disco is for mechanized minds that don’t think. I mean, those beats-per-minute puts part of your brain to sleep. It’s a serious thing. People don’t realize the seriousness of media control. And, of course, punks, and all the people, they get their images from the media, so the media even twists around the strong and good ones. I really try to speak in no uncertain terms about what I want and what I feel; what I want to bring to people from my music, aside that it’s fun, kick-ass energy. That’s the top thing. That’s what rock’n’roll is, is freedom. I want it back the way it was – 1776.

FFanzeen: Do you feel Reagan is trying to ruin that with his cutting the budget in the arts areas?
Helen: I think Reagan is a pawn. He’s not in the Council of Foreign Relations, which is unusual for a president, but everyone who advises him, is. He’s not that evil, but he’s not in control, either.

FFanzeen: What is the fascination you have for motorcycles?
Helen: Speed; throbbing energy – I only like American motorcycles.

FFanzeen: Harleys, of course.
Helen: Harleys. I like Indians. They’re hard to come by. I’ve been riding motorcycles since I was fifteen, and that’s more than half my life. Motorcycles (are) the same thing as rock’n’roll. They’re about freedom. The people that are riding – some of them are outlaws and some of them wanna just get there and ride, ride, ride. They just wanna be out and be free. It’s just “headin’ down the highway / Looking for adventure.” It is ultimate. I mean, I like the real hardcore, outlaw bikers. I think those people are kinda like, you know, the last cowboys. And by outlaw, that doesn’t mean killing people, that means making your own laws. Living your own life, having your own values. I don’t give a shit what the world thinks of me anymore. I’ve been suppressed. I’ve been put down, and I’ve been really maligned in some press. I’ve been censored off of national TV and radio for speaking out against drugs, and of being basically clean-cut, and a kick-ass, biker-rock’n’roller. And I fuckin’ resent it, because look who they put up there. Anybody who shoots dope gets first crack at it, and so many fans have died since I started rock’n’rolling, and so many of them are like the people who come here in the audience. You have a responsibility, as a person on stage, to put out a positive message, to say something uplifting, something that’s good for people. Not just that it’s all immaterial, that you have no future. That’s something that the Brits did when they said that punk started in England. We all know that they copied the Ramones. Punk started in 1976 on the Bowery at CBGB’s, which is where the punks adopted the motorcycle jackets as their symbol of freedom, ‘cause it was a biker bar.

FFanzeen: Actually, it was ’75.
Helen: ’75 was the beginning, ‘cause ’76, it was kind of like the christening. And you had the real American bands, like the Dictators.

FFanzeen: Great band!
Helen: Fantastic band. And they got shut down. I resent it, ‘cause they were one of the greatest bands. The Ramones, bands like that, that were very patriotic. I mean, if you look at a Ramones logo, it’s a presidential seal: Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee and whoever they have now.

FFanzeen: Ritchie.
Helen: Then they bring over the British disco shit and all that, and mixing it up with the rock’n’roll. And then they’re calling that New Wave.

FFanzeen: Don’t you feel that it is also from American groups, like Devo?
Helen: Yeah, but to me, that was more like “thin-tie, wimp rock.” Yeah, that was the same kind of thing that the press did. They picked up those bands, and called those bands the New Wave, and they left out the Dictators; the Ramones, who should have had a No. 1 hit a long time ago. They’re doing all right, but they’re not having the success they should have. Look at some of the big Brit bands. They aren’t very talented, and any kids who were hanging out in the early days, I mean, those were not the bands they went to see. They were the thin-tie ones with the least energy and the most, like, disco mixing, which is what they went to for big money; and to me, that was a real sick perversion of the whole thing … it has no place in what I want to say. It goes back to what I was saying about having responsibility. I see junkies up on stage, and the audience thinks they’re the greatest fuckin’ thing they’ve come across since the Sex Pistols, or whatever shit they got last from the media, and then they think, “Oh, man, it’s so hip. Let’s try shooting dope. Let’s check it out. That’s what our rock’n’roll heroes are doing.” Right from Keith Richards on down. And the media loves it. Then I go to the shows and the kids that were alive and wonderful – full of energy – they’re, like, nodded out on the tables. And then, one by one, like Jessie Blue [not to be confused with the bland “Oranje Guice” singer, Jessi Blue – RBF, 2022], they die. By accident, you know? “We didn’t shoot junk all the time, just now and then.” Jessie Blue was a friend of mine and she was a real talented girl. She had a lot of heart and soul. She was in the Slander Band. She was just “foolin’ around,” you know. She was in Punking Out with me. And she died from it. So many of them died from it. If they don’t die, they’re like the living dead. And that’s worse, ‘cause then they’re just a patsy of the powers-that-be, that don’t want people like me around to say, “Take your vitamins, lift weights, and be strong, and you can control your own life, and bring the country back to health with you.”

FFanzeen: Was there ever a time when you were into drugs?
Helen: I’ve taken drugs, sure, but I really cleaned up my act. The older I got, the smarter I got. I found out that I wanted to live. I still go 100 miles an hour on a motorcycle once in a while; 110.

FFanzeen: [Faking shock:] But isn’t that illegal?
Helen: Well, the laws – you know, you do it late at night when there’s no one else on the road so it’s not a danger to them. I think everybody has the potential to be their own person. Everyone has the potential for the kind of health and happiness and freedom that I’m talking about, in this country, anyway. It’s only because of the twisted media image that so many people are down on themselves; sad, can’t find a place in life. That’s what [the media] want. They’re trying to beat down the strongest ones. I always come back. I always come back stronger, too. And that’s what I hope to encourage other people to do, to fight for whatever the fuck you wanna do. If you want to be an accountant, man, fight to be that accountant. Be the best one that there is. But if you want to be something that’s impossible to get at, like the president, or a total outlaw, or a rock’n’roll star, just follow your heart. That’s what “Break the Chains” is about, it’s about personal freedom. Following your intuition and your heart. To be whatever you want to be. I was just a kid who dreamed. There’s not too many people up there giving you a positive word. There’s all this negativity coming down. They have to fantasize because the reality is made so miserable for them. I see a lot of people now; they just want to escape. But I figure the real thing to do is just make it better so you can be in reality and feel good.

FFanzeen: How do you propose to do that?
Helen: I think I’m already doing it through the best methods I can. If people will get our record and check out some of the political inserts and some of the information there, pass the information along, and just become more well-informed about the fact that there is a media conspiracy in this country. Bankers own Marshall Amps, own ABC’s studios, own Hollywood, own all the newspaper chains, own just about everything except fanzines. Which are pure. Just the way, like, a lot of the new bands are real and pure, and that’s why I love them. I’ve had interviews for big papers where they said, “This part is too hot. Take it out. Leave in this nice part here. Leave in this stupid part here, this joke here.” Then fuck the whole thing, ‘cause if I can’t say something that means something to me, then why say anything at all? … Along with the real punk bands, and the real New Wave bands in the late ‘70s, was this immense network of fanzines crossing the country. There’s still quite a few of them. We got a list of 3000 of them with our record. Maybe 50 went out of business within that time, but a couple of new ones started. And to me, that’s where I find out about the censored bands, the local bands, the real stuff going on. They don’t wanna give me big money for stuff yet, but they’re gonna have to pretty soon, ‘cause I won’t shut up and I won’t disappear. Not unless they actually try to assassinate me or something, which they won’t do because I’m too strong. I won’t stand for it. [Laughs] It’s not just me. There are a lot of people coming up now that just aren’t going to disappear, that are positive. And I think it’s really going to start turning the tide, because people, even if their minds say, “Yeah, let’s shoot junk because so-and-so there is so cool, and this-and-that. Let’s snort speed and do all this stuff,” their inside animal, their intuition does not want that, even if their minds want to do it. If someone starts speaking to their inside animal – this is like, magic stuff, and it’s saying, “Be strong, be healthy. Be who you want to be. Really realize your fuckin’ dreams.” The animal says, “Do that, do that. Try it.” ‘Cause I find the more I follow my intuition, the happier I feel. Our record is being played in 40 states now, just by our independent efforts. Features all across the country. It’s being played in Buenos Aries, London – I think it’s tremendously exciting that this can be done independently. Independent records are really the healthiest thing in the whole industry. It’s the same as the fanzines; it’s made of the people.

FFanzeen: So, you would say your record was a success.
Helen: Absolutely. I think it was an artistic success because we put out the image, and the music, and the songs that we chose. We did it at an ultra-budget price with real good technology. We had wonderful people working on it. It’s getting played on some 150,000-watt stations, which compares with the Pat Benatar sound, or whatever shlock they get paid to play. I think the fact that it’s getting played in 40 states, is a tremendous success for us. And now, a year after its release, it’s still being picked up as a new add by maybe 5-10 stations a week that we know of. We haven’t made a fortune out of it, but we sold out the first pressing, and we’re pretty well into the second pressing now. I hope I’m not naive and that it hasn’t peaked yet. The way I look at it, it’s going to bring us a lot of success. As an independent, it’s gotten good out there. We got fantastic reviews cross-country. In fact, we’ve got response from radio stations that said they weren’t even going to listen to the record because they thought the reviews were all hype, ‘cause nobody had an EP with six great songs on it. Then they write us these letters: “Fuckin’-A. I didn’t believe the reviews ‘cause they seemed like a hype, but the record is great and we’re playing all six cuts.” We did a taped interview by [scene photographer and writer] Mariah Aguiar (d. 2005) that has been on 30 radio stations across the country, and we have a request for that quite regularly. In fact, I’m going to do a syndication radio show that’ll be on about 15 radio stations on the East Coast in April. It’s a new show, coming out of New Brunswick, New Jersey. And the college stations, where they are not programmed to play only this and only that, we’ve had tremendous success because … they like it. And that’s the young people. That’s fine with me. I hope we hit all the people. I think we got a real good start. I think we’re doing real well. I’m hoping to win the lottery so I can make another record. [Laughs] I’m ready. Joe Bouchard (bassist for Blue Oyster Cult) wants to produce it again. The same engineer (Corky Stasiak) wants to do it. They’re really tremendously excited that what could have been a dinky project has won them a tremendous amount of acclaim, too. It was Joe’s first outing as a producer, and he’s getting all kinds of kudos, so he’s ready for the next one.

FFanzeen: How is this band different from your previous two?
Helen: Well, I always like to think that as I progressed as a singer and a writer, my musicians have just gotten better and better. I think that this band [Jack Rigg, guitar, who currently works with Bouchard as writer and composer; Orville Davis, bass, has gone country; Paul Garisto, drums, is a session/touring musician including with the Psychedelic Furs and Iggy Pop – RBF, 1983/2022] has the most variety, musically. It’s not all, like 4/4, heavy metal or something. I think everybody feels a real freedom with their creativity. We’ll write a lot of songs and boot out most of them and just keep what seems kind of golden and special to us. Songs that we all like. I really don’t think we have any boring songs. And I certainly never get bored on stage. I think it’s the best band by far that I’ve ever had. I love the rhythms. There are so much more unusual rhythms, and it’s challenged me to write in many new ways. Like, now I’m writing a lot more as we’re writing the music, rather than writing a poem and setting it to music. It’s more of a give and take product. I think I’m doing my best writing now than I ever did in my life.

FFanzeen: Do you think that you’re playing with guns and knives on stage promotes violence?
Helen: No. Certainly no more than television does. I think a lot less. What it does is promote an image that people are little bit afraid of, which is the armed and dangerous woman. I think it’s an important cultural image to put out, and that’s one reason to do it, because of the “weaker sex” bullshit. … When people are hassling everyone else on the street, as I pass by, they say, “DT ticket,” which means, “Don’t Touch.” That means you don’t fuck around with this person because this person knows themselves, and looks a little weird. See, I don’t believe in gun control, because the way that things have gotten, all the bad guys have guns. They buy a Saturday night special for $25. Why shouldn’t I have a gun to protect my house? I don’t think it invites trouble. The same as bodybuilding. I think it gives a different image of womanhood for the ‘80s, that a woman is not passive. People don’t think of women as fighting back. If they did, they wouldn’t fuck around with them so much. Nobody fuckin’ touches me.

(ffoto by Robert Barry Francos)

FFanzeen: Are you trained in any of the martial arts?
Helen: No, but I wouldn’t mind being. It’s not something I would put out of my mind. Bodybuilding is one way of making myself strong and I might be interested in doing that. … Although the ultimate defense is a .45. It’s the same as pressing 125-plus pounds. When I can press 180 pounds, then if a 180-pound man starts to attack me, I’d be able to pick him up and throw him against the wall, and break his head. That’s what I see is a great use for that. When you can do pushups on your fingertips, you can put your finger right through somebody’s throat, or you pump out their eyeball, they won’t bother you. If you’re strong enough to rip their nose off their face, that’s great. To me, it’s holy. It’s kind of an art, to make yourself strong and whole. I am very spiritual. To me, I’m one with nature. That’s my goddess. And nature demands me to be the strongest, most intelligent, most creative being that I could possibly be. To do the most with my life. To me, that’s living an entirely spiritual life. Just to be the fullest human being that I could be. If I’m not writing songs, I’m managing the band, or working and doing something for bucks, or sewing my costume. I believe in doing everything related to my life. I’m a great cook, you know? I enjoy every aspect of living. I really try to. Even if you feel shitty, there’s something good you can get out of it. Read a book or something. It’s just a matter of keeping your mind alive. And not being discouraged by all the shit that’s in the world. I can’t stress the media conspiracy enough, because they want to put us down. They really want powerless people. The same thing with gun control. That’s the second amendment. There must be an armed militia of the people to keep the Constitution in line for when all these scumbags in Washington are changing the immigration laws and doing all this stuff that is destroying our country. We must have an armed populace that has the brains – and they don’t get the brains from eating Wonder Bread – that can take care of themselves. What they’re doing with all this shitty food to these kids now is terrifying, because we’re getting a new generation of nutrition. That’s something people should be immensely aware of, just taking care of their bodies and their minds. Plus, it’s like a suicide country, if you just let it tumble down the way it’s going.

FFanzeen: How do you think we can change that?
Helen: By becoming more well-informed, by watching our own personal health and strength, by finding out what we are guaranteed in our freedoms and making sure we get those guarantees. That’s what this country is built on, is the Constitution/Bill of Rights. And that’s what gives us the right to rock’n’roll. The right to express ourselves and to speak out about what we really believe in. From the selfish standpoint of an artist, I would do anything to protect the freedoms of this country, because they would have killed me in Russia. They would have put me in jail 15 years ago, just for being an outlaw, let alone singing rock’n’roll. Because I won’t be told what to do. I really believe in that for everyone: self-determination. And I think that people are hungry for a positive, American message. I’m fuckin’ sick of the British Invasion, which never ended since the Beatles, and then try to pummulgate it into everyone’s minds here that the Brit bands are the good bands, because they’re the ones in the media. They’re the ones getting $3,000 when we get $300 or something. People say, “Why don’t you go over to England and make it big over there, and then come back?” That’s the last resort, because I’m American and I’d really like to make it in my own country first. I wouldn’t mind doing well over there, too, because fans are fans. They have to clear the songs with the BBC, you know. I mean, it’s not a Communist country, but there’s a lot of political repression there. And to me, most of them are neo-disco (and) it’s all this synthesizer hype bands – and it’s all phony. And I really resent it that our media and our people are slobbering over all the English stuff. There’s thousands of great American bands here that are not getting a chance.

FFanzeen: You can hardly get a gig at a major club in New York on a weekend unless you open for a British band.
Helen: I’ve got everything going against me: I’m a chick, I’m white, I’m real American. I’m not a commie, I’m not gay, I play rock’n’roll – they don’t want me, but I’m not going away. … But I try to keep a positive thing going. Most of the people that are rockin’, they just wanna rock, and bless them. May nature bless them and let them rock. It’s the healthiest thing they can do.

When it came time to publish the article in its original form, I told Helen I was going to make it into the two-page center. She hand-created a beautiful piece of illustration as a border, after I gave her the dimensions, which I used, of course. It was not boring.

Looking back in hindsight from 2022, I wonder what Helen would make of the modern, Internet-informed, COVID-infested, anti-vaccination, White Nationalist groups, “fake news,” post-Trump, and post-1/6 insurrection America. Unfortunately, we will never know.

In 1996, Helen moved to Ithaca, New York, and after a stint as a trainer and opening up her own small press imprint, she became a member of the band Skeleton Crew and was recording a new album (Helen Wheels and the Skeleton Crew).

Helen went into Ithaca Hospital for some corrective back surgery, having hurt it over a decade before, caught an infection, and passed away on January 27, 2000, at the age of 50. Maybe her goddess was lovingly trying to protect her from learning about 9/11, nearly two years later..

 

 

Documentary Review: Suzi Q

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020

Images from the Internet

Suzi Q

Directed by Liam Firmager

Utopia; Screen Australia; Film Victoria; Acme Film Company Production; Madmen Films

100 minutes, 2020

https://www.suziqmovie.com/

My first experience of Suzi Quatro was on May 5, 1975, when I went to see Alice Cooper play at Madison Square Garden as part of the Welcome to My Nightmare Tour. Our seats were literally the last row of the upper balcony, facing the stage; you could not get any further away. Suzi was less than an inch tall from that distance. As it is, she is petite, but her sound was humongous, and made an impression on me (more than Cooper, quite honestly; it was my second time to see him there). The next day I went out and bought the then-recently released Your Mamma Won’t Like Me album, during her funkier period (the same month I would see the Ramones for the first time).

Women in rock seemed to come in waves up until the mid-‘70s: the first innovators were in the 1950s who never really got the credit they deserved, such as Wanda Jackson, which lasted until after the Shangri-Las’ boom of girl groups through early ‘60s. Then there were the blues rockers, such as Grace Slick and ended with the death of Janis Joplin. The next wave started a few years after Joplin’s 1970 passing, when Quatro released her eponymous proto-punk/metal album in 1973.

With songs like “Devil Gate Drive” and “Can the Can,” through her MTV-fueled “Rock Hard,” her vocals and starting with the employment of a huge 1957 Fender Precision bass hit a strong note. It’s been over 50 years since she started at age 14, but the story of that journey is the bassist – I mean, basis of this Australian documentary.

Suzi was huge all over the world, selling tens of millions of records, but here in the US of A, she was barely promoted by her record distributor (though she did make the cover of the Rolling Stone) and her sales were flat in her own ‘hood, relatively speaking. That’s part of why, even though she was born and raised in the Grosse Pointe area of Detroit, she has spent most of her life in England, starting the very early 1970s when she was brought over by infamous producer Mickey Most. All across the globe she was a presence on television on shows like “Top of the Pops,” but I remember mostly import LPs in stores that dealt with those (such as Disc-O-Rama on 8th Street, off McDougal, where I bought most of the early punk releases, but I digress…).

With hits all over the world but never really respected on a level she deserved in her own country, no wonder she stayed in the UK. Though I liked Suzi’s music, I really didn’t know much about her or her career. That is part of why I was so excited about this documentary, for which Suzi is incredibly deserving and involved. The fact that her first big hit in the States was a limp duet with Chris Norman, “Stumblin’ In,” shows how shallow the tastes of the mainstream American audience had become at the time.

Most documentaries, including this one, focus mainly on the high moments of fame, but one of the aspects I found interesting was the earlier years, covered in the first 15-20 minutes, when she was part of a “family” band of her sisters, starting with The Pleasure Seekers, which transformed into Cradle. One thing missing from here that I found interesting is the lack of mention of the only male in Cradle, future New York Dolls and Heartbreakers (with Johnny Thunders, not Tom Petty) drummer Jerry Nolan, who became involved with one of the sisters. Not even a picture, and there are lots of the band. But then again, this isn’t about him or the sister, but more my own personal interests.

Upon her fame in the mid-1970s, this documentary touches on two points I would have liked to have heard more of, and that is how she challenged the Glam scene (nice comment here about how Suzi’s band didn’t see themselves as Glam because Suzi was the only member “who wore make-up,” much like the Ramones didn’t consider themselves punk), rivaling the charts with artists like Marc Bolan, David Bowie, and Sweet (guitarist Andy Scott is interviewed here). The other is more of a social context of Feminism pushback by the British press, postulated by the juxtaposition in that at first people complained that women weren’t allowed to rock like the boys, and then grumbled when they did just that, threatening the machismo machine of rock and roll. Both While this is not a complaint, really, Glam and Feminism are given a couple of minutes each. I am glad at least they were addressed.

I am amused that there is a section devoted just to Suzi’s first Aussie tour in 1974. Of course, this actually makes sense, as footage is more readily available there for this home-grown piece. Again, this is more of an area I’m not familiar with in Suzi’s career, so I am incredibly grateful for the footage and information.

The film also rightfully focuses on the magnitude of the influence Suzi has had on the lives and careers of other musicians. So many women have picked up music as a vocation thanks to Suzi, including members of The Runaways (here represented by vocalist Cherie Currie, guitarist Joan Jett looking “Cher-ized,” and lead guitarist Lita Ford), The Go-Go’s (bassist Kathy Valentine), and Talking Heads and The Tom Tom Club (bassist Tina Weymouth and drummer Chris Franz).

Interviews also include (but not only), alphabetically, Rodney Bingenheimer (KROQ DJ), Clem Burke (Blondie drummer), Mike Chapman (1970s British record producer), Alice Cooper, John ”Norwood” Fisher (Fishbone), Deborah Harry (Blondie), Garry Marshall (producer of “Happy Days”; d. 2016), Don Powell (Slade drummer), Donita Sparks (L7 guitarist and vocals), Suzi’s ex-husband and member of the Suzi Quatro band Len Tuckey, KT Tunstall, and of course, the Fonz, Henry Winkler (“Happy Days”). Members of her family, including her sister Patti, who would become a member of Fanny, and brother Michael, who was her manager in the early days, are also represented.

But don’t think that this is just another one of those talking head interview extravaganzas. Hardly. This is jam packed with rare footage of Suzi playing live, photos of her on and off the stage (childhood, backstage, onstage, living her life), press and magazine covers, and clips of rare interviews (e.g., on the radio such as Rodney on the ROQ, and television mainly in the UK and Australia).

The best, of course, is the direct interviews with Suzi herself. She is extremely candid, bright-eyed, and humorous looking back on her 70 years, nearly 55 of them in the public eye. It’s obvious that her contribution was taken over a period of time, because we see her in different settings, rather than just the one-camera-one-shot that is so common with these kinds of biography films.

Then, there is also the music. Lots of music. No song is shown complete, but there are clips of her recordings and live shows, and all of it is quite thrilling, actually, giving a decent overall picture of why she was/is such a role model. Most people with whom I have talked about Suzi seem to know her mostly as Leather Tuscadero, during her stint on “Happy Days.” In my opinion, this role kind of put a dent in her reputation as a foundation artist, but she bounced back. Also, it was the mortar to what would become a strong acting career.

So many life documentaries are formulaic with interviews mixed with some photos or videos. Firmager mixes it up quite a bit. There is also a nice intermingling of genders, which I find to be often lacking in these kinds of adventures, especially for that period of rock and roll. In addition, I would like to point out that nearly all the people who talk about Suzi are those who are first-person connections, rather than merely journalists or writers spouting second-hand retellings, (such as, “In [date] at [location], the story goes that Suzi did this such thing…”). This is an incredibly well-assembled account of the life of a career musician.

Though the main focus is the height of Suzi’s career in the mid- to late-1970s, the beginning and the later British West End stage acting phases of her life are not glossed over, which is good because I did not know a lot of it.

As the film was ending, I checked in with myself and realized I had an unconscious smile on my face. Honestly, I have been wanting to see the film since its Australian opening in November of 2019. Was it worth the wait? Oh, hell, yeah, it – err – rocks hard.

Documentary Review: STIV: No Compromise No Regrets

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2019
Images from the Internet unless indicated

STIV: No Compromise No Regrets

Directed by Danny Garcia
Chip Baker Films / MVD Entertainment
80 minutes / 2019
www.facebook.com/stivdocumentary
www.mvdb2b.com

Stiv (photo (c) RBF)

The Dead Boys were an exciting band, to put it mildly. You never knew what to expect, and I firmly believe they were arguably the first hardcore band. Luckily, I got to see them quite a few times, mostly at CBGB, and quite often sharing a bill with the equally wild British punkers, the Damned. Dead Boy performances were exciting gigs, including the one of two nights which I saw that were benefits for their drummer, Johnny Blitz, who had been stabbed 17 times.



Stiv and Cheetah (pic (c) RBF)

The only time I came in close contact with Stiv was when I was with someone who wanted to interview Captain Sensible of the Damned, so we went backstage to where the two bands were sharing a dressing room. Their reputation preceding them, I kept my finger over the top of my beer, as the Boys were known to pee in bottles that were put down temporarily.

 

It was an exciting time, and Danny Garcia seems to be on a mission to preserve as much as it as possible, having previously directed strong films about the likes of Johnny Thunders, Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen, and the Clash.

As bios go, with the exception of a bit at the beginning, the film follows the usual chronological order of Stiv’s great march to the East, starting in Ohio (Rocket From the Tombs; Frankenstein), then New York (Dead Boys), to England (Wanderers, Lords of the New Church), and finally to his final days in Paris. These are backed up by many of his musician pals and a girlfriend who do the talking head remembrances. But here’s where this is different, and it’s an important variance: rather than the camera just sitting on the person talking for however long, once the introduction is done, the image we see is of Stiv in both still and video form, while the person continues narrating. This keeps it a lot more interesting.

What’s also in a positive is that Garcia digs pretty deep into the personality of Bators, from his good nature and humorous moods to his darker depressions and drug abuse. This pulls no punches. Stiv was known for some wild actions, such as “surfing” on the top of cars going 70 mph, fitting himself inside the bass drum during the set, or cutting himself Iggy-style on stage.

It’s also important to point out that this film is not about the Dead Boys or any of Stiv’s other bands, per se, but rather about the man, and Garcia never seems to lose track of that. Sure we get stories and anecdotes of life on the road from other band members, but this is definitely focused on the guy whose name is on the film. And that’s great.

Speaking of interviews, while Jimmy Zero (rhythm guitarist and songwriter for the Dead Boys) rightfully gets the most screen time as he tells great stories, all the people present to talk about Stiv give first hand reports, which is much better than “I heard that Stiv did this or that” or “I believe Stiv felt that…” Even the few journalists who get face time, such as John Holstrom and Nina Antonia, were there and give compelling first-person observations.

Two things stand out for me negatively, both of them minor. First, the title cards explaining who is who are shown once, and after that it’s expected the viewer would know who these people are. While I’m a fan of the musician and his bands, I did not know everyone who is interviewed (especially those in France), so repeating the people descriptors would have helped a bit. The other, and I’m sure there is no blame on Garcia, is that it would have been interesting to hear from Cheetah Chrome (lead guitarist of the Dead Boys), and he would have some great tales as well; but I’m willing to bet that his exclusion was his own choice, and I respect that.

When dealing with the life of someone who lived on the edge for as long as Bators did, I kept wanting more, such as his relationship with the Damned, the Johnny Blitz benefit and how the stabbing affected Stiv’s life, more about the contentiousness recording session of the DB’s Young Loud and Snotty (Genya Ravan’s reaction to Stiv’s Nazi fascination), etc. Of course, this would have made the film three hours long, but this is actually a complement to Garcia’s biography, because it kept my interest and I also wanted more.

Danny Garcia makes some compelling documentaries, and I always look forward to seeing them. While I don’t know what will be coming next, I’ll be there to see it. This film is a perfect indicator of why.