Book Review: Lost Rockers, by Steven Blush (etc.)

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Live images by Robert Barry Francos

Book cover image from Internet

Lost Rockers: Broken Dreams and Crashed Careers

By Steven Blush, with Paul Rachman and Tony Mann
powerHouse Books (Brooklyn, NY), 2016
160 pages (hardcover); USD $15.00
ISBN: 978-1-576-87766-1
www.powerhousebooks.com

If the name Steven Blush sounds familiar, I’m guessing it is due to his previous seminal book, American Hardcore. Presently, he is assisted by Paul Rachman, who directed the 2006 documentary based on that first book, and by Tony Mann. who has drummed with just about everyone in the New York scene.

Tony Mann

Anyway, the book looks at some might-have-beens in the music biz in the past few decades, essentially some who had a touch of major stardom, coming thisclose, but who had it evaporate into the clear blue, be it through wrong timing, sometimes by the fault of third parties such as record companies, bitter rivalries, or occasionally by shooting themselves in the foot by the likes of ego or substance abuse.

While I’m not amazed that there are quite a few I have never heard of before this, I am even more stunned at how many I have seen in both their heydays and beyond. I will indicate those I have watched perform with a [*].

If you’ve been around any music scene for a while, you must know some bands that deserved the break and never got it. Off the top of my head, I think of the Marbles and the original formation of the Shirts, and of course the Dictators from New York, Willie Loco Alexander in Boston, the Jumpers from Buffalo, and I would even add in the Cramps to that list. Most of them were signed to major labels at some point, or on the verge of it, and then it all just went away.

There are 20 musicians (rather than bands) covered here. Some had relatively major hits, such as the opening article subject, Evie Sands, who was the first to record the classic Chip Taylor tune “Angel of the Morning.” Then there’s Robert Fleischmann, the original singer for Journey and Vinnie Vincent Invasion. Marc Bolan’s common-law wife and baby mama Gloria Jones is here, her career evaporating when the car she was driving crashed, which ended Bolan’s life.

Corpse Grinders

But not everyone has star turns, though should have, such as Gass Wild [*], who helped form the Pretenders, though I saw him in a version of the Love Pirates at Otto’s Shrunken Head in the early 2000s. I met him through the band The She Wolves, whose drummer was Tony Mann. Rick Rivets [*] was in a couple of bands I saw in the early New York scene days, the Brats and Corpse Grinders.

One of the people here who is not just famous but also a bit infamous is Cherry Vanilla [*], an ex-groupie who helped Bowie and MainMan conquer the States. She was at the forefront of the Max’s scene, and I saw her on a stunning bill with the Fast and (then) Wayne County in late ’76 or early ‘77. Some of her band members back then would be part of the core of Get Wet, another deserving band that almost broke and could be included in a sequel.

Cherry Vanilla

An interesting inclusion is Chris Robison [*], who was sort of an early sexually fluid musician who flowed between men and women (similar to Bowie and Lou Reed). As well as a solo act, he was associated with the touring band Steam (“Na Na Hey Hey [Goodbye]”). Also, he played with Elephant’s Memory (he may have been in the band when I saw them at Prospect Park with Brownsville Station opening) and the local New York group Stumblebunny (they opened for Peter Tork at CBGBs in ‘77, but I have no memory of the band).

Marge Raymond in Flame

One of the rockers in the ‘70s I really enjoyed was Flame, fronted by Marge Raymond [*], who is represented here. I saw the band play at Zappaz in Brooklyn in 1977. She’s in a ‘50s/’60s cover band now. Which brings me to a point: Marge seems pretty happy now, and who knows if “success” would have made an end-total betterment or crashing of a lived life. I mean, do you get the feeling that someone like, say, Axl Rose or Alan Price or Tommy Lee are actually happy in their relative career success?

Yes, there are certainly some depressing tales here, such as with Bobby Jameson [d. 2015], whose life has been street hardcore after the near-fame, but for most here, there is still wishin’ and hopin’ and thinkin’ and prayin’ going on, and some positive thoughts. Most are still making music on their own terms and through the book we learn that they deserve our respect.

Most of the pieces tend to run a couple of pages, though a few are nicely quite lengthy. There are also lots of photos, of which the “now” pictures particularly interested me; for example, Cherry Vanilla has not lost her zing at all.

Blush, who conducted all the interviews himself, does a fine job of keeping the interest of the reader. I found that even with those of whom I was unfamiliar, my curiosity was kept whetted and I read the articles through. At first I wished there was a disk of some of the music included, but then I remembered YouTube, so I could check to see what some of the recordings were like (especially check out Flame’s “Beg Me” and Cherry Vanilla’s “The Punk,’ but I digress…).

As a side note, I found it interesting that producer Jimmy Iovine makes more than one appearance as being a hindrance (personally, I find a lot of his stuff overproduced and clinical, but that’s for another day). The only real issue I had with the writing itself was the overuse of the term “left high and dry,” but that’s just the nitpicking hell that my brain does. Point is, if the repetition of that phrase is the worst I can come up with, well, that’s saying a lot in favor of release.

This is not the first book to be written about cult artists who never broke the big time. For two examples, there are Jake Austen’s Flying Saucers Rock’n’Roll: Conversations with Unjustly Obscure Rock’n’Soul Eccentrics (reviewed by me HERE) and Unknown Legends of Rock’n’Roll: Psychedelic Unknowns, Mad Geniuses, Punk Pioneers, Lo-Fi Mavericks & More. Each one has its own take on the lives and output of the musicians under the microscope.

While Blush takes a deep look at some of the artists, he does not analyze the music, and I feel the book is the better for it. He doesn’t talk down to the reading audience, which also makes sense, because the person who has the book in-hand most likely has a history of following music to some extent, and probably will have some knowledge of at least some of those discussed.

The name of the book is a slight misnomer, I’m happy to say, because it is not only rock that is covered, as there is both soul and folk included in the batch. Still, I would not change the title.

I’m pleased to know that as with American Hardcore, a documentary film version of this book is in post-production by Rachman. As much as I enjoyed reading this, I am also looking forward to the film. While there probably will be music in the documentary, this book is still essential, and certainly worth the read.

As a brief post-note, Blush actually has a new book out since this once came out last year, titled New York Rock: From the Rise of the Velvet Underground to the Fall of CBGB. I'm hoping to get the chance to check that one out, as well! 

Musician subjects in book:

Evie Sands

Alan Merrill

Chris Robison

Ginger Bianco

Brett Smiley

Betty Davis

Pat Briggs

Bobby Jameson

Rick Fox

Charlie Farren

Gloria Jones

Chris Darrow

Gass Wild & Johnny Hodge

Rick Rivets

Cherry Vanilla

Robert Fleischman

Kenny Young

Marge Raymond

Jake Holmes

DVD Review: Circle Jerks – My Career as a Jerk

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

Circle Jerks – My Career as a Jerk

Photographed, edited and directed by David Markey
MVD Visuals
96 minutes, 2012       
www.wegotpowerfilms.com   
www.mvdvisual.com

The one time I saw the Left Coast SoCal hardcore Circle Jerks, it was at Irving Plaza in the mid-1980s, and if I remember correctly, they opened for the Dickies (rather than the other way around). There were more bands, but for many reasons, none of them pharmaceutical-, herbal- or alcohol-related, my memory of the night is quite fuzzy. As was my tendency, I started off standing by the stage, but very quickly I learned that was not a smart thing, as slamming had become more than just moshing. This was when the transition from jocks hating punks to jocks joining punks, so they can smash, crash and bash anyone and everyone. Yes, I was and remain a wuss about this mostly masculinist (especially at that point in hardcore history) activity, but I still have my teeth, so it was worth it.

By the end of the first song of the opening band, I was waaaay in the back near the bar, a place I had successfully avoided at the joint for most of the times I was there. Even the balcony was a ruckus of flinging bodies, so I just listened to the music without being able to see the stage, and enjoyed the noise. What I do remember is the distorted sounds over the PA. This was quite a different audience than when Eddie & the Hot Rods played at Max’s a few years before, and was annoyed that those in attendance just sat there, like there was anywhere else to go in that confined space, eh wot?

Also, I remember safely seeing the Jerks do a few songs on a special “punk” version of Rock Palace in 1985 (see clip below), sharing a bill with the likes of Rank and File. I still have it on VHS somewhere, which I taped off the telly.

Yes, I have their first three albums, and enjoyed them – though honestly I was more of a Descendants fan back then – but the Circle Jerks definitely had an appeal. They certainly had one of the best logos around, a drawing of a hardcore kid skanking, possibly only outdone by Black Flag’s four black bars. The irony, of course, is that the lead singer of the Circle Jerks, Keith Morris, started his life as the singer of BFlag. With the nearly infant guitarist from Red Cross (soon to be renamed Redd Kross), Greg Hetson, joined with drummer Lucky Lehrer and a series of bassists – most notably Zander Schloss (who appeared in both Repo Man [1984] and the Ramones’ “Something to Believe In” video) – they were on their way in the early days of Hermosa Beach’s infamous scene.

Using a somewhat standard formula, director David Markey gives us a mixture of present-day interviews with some of the key players; at this point, it seems like dreadlocked Keith Morris will let himself be interviewed in just about anything, as I see him in so many music documentaries about the ‘80s. There is also some exciting live clips, and tons of interesting information. Happily, while the violence in the early hardcore scene escalated by the police and fire departments in California is mentioned a little bit, they don’t swim in it, which is fine because it’s been covered so many times.

What Markey does instead is to focus on the band itself, discussing the flow of  successes and failures, tensions within the band over songs, people coming and going so quickly, good musicianship drummers Chuck Biscuits and Lerher over some guy who replaced him  who Morris truthfully posits, “[Lerher] was replaced with a guy who played drums.”

Of course, it’s the anecdotes that make any of these kinds of documentaries, and people like Henry Rollins (who will also appear in any documentary music-related), Flea from the overrated Red Hot Chili Peppers who was in the band very shortly (there is  a clip of him playing a show), Dinosaur Jr.’s J. Mascis, and Lisa Fancher, who ran the infamous Frontier Records, among others including other band members, flush out the stories from third parties. One interesting comment is that even though Rollins replaced Morris in BFlag, he still has respect for the Jerks as musicians, claiming in their own way they were better than his home-town Bad Brains. One thing that is missing, I am happy to say, is the music critics and writers to discuss their historical importance. I’d much rather hear it from the band themselves, and those that were there.

After a semi-disastrous turn towards mainstream – and I say this for the quality of the work, not the “sell-out” fantasy – by signing to Mercury Records, the Jerks began the very slow melt into the inevitable darkness of dissolving. One thing that often gets mocked about the band that I’ve heard in real life was when Debbie Gibson sang with them, but to tell you the truth, that made her more interesting (okay, just interesting) than putting anything on the band.  For me, it was their stage dive into more “rock” (as Morris puts it) and dreams of the Nirvana bandwagon fame and wealth that put the final nail in, years before the relative final curtain.

The last third of the story by the Jerks is sad¸ including death, resentment and fading away with the occasional reunion show, such as the one shown in 2009, outside of North America.

It’s kind of telling that with all the interviews with several of the Jerks, some obviously done at different times (no historical discussions, all done recently with rearview mirror memoirs), nearly all of the conversations are in single rooms, and not once do you see any of the other members occupy any of the same space at the same time. One of the things I liked about the story of the Cockney Rejects, East End Babylon (reviewed ‘ere), is that you see some of the band interacting, often walking around the area they grew up. In this one, you see almost nothing of Hermosa Beach or the area, other than a couple of quick shots such as Morris standing on the block where he grew up. Photos and videos of the past are good, but they a difficult to get a peripheral feel of perspective.

Usually, over an hour and a half is quite a bit long for this kind of oral history, when dealing with a single group (in my opinion), but Markey wisely not only uses many clips of the band playing in its many stages, he also either shows entire songs, or much of them. I find it a bit of an annoyance when you see a 25 second or so clip; just as you start getting the song and the direction it’s either coming from or going, it’s over. Here, you get a better picture, and if that means a longer-length documentary, then it’s worth it. That is especially true if the band was as interesting as the Jerks. If this was a documentary about, say, Maroon 5, complete songs would probably drive me bonkers (Levine has a decent voice, but the music is awful, and the productions are worse, but I digress…).

Extras include some deleted scenes and 30-minutes of some very interesting additional interviews, including one of Rollins talking about being on tour being a roadie with the Teen Idles and seeing steel-tip boots, moshing and stagediving for the first time at a Circle Jerks show in San Fran, and then bringing it back to the East Coast, where it was very quickly adopted.

 

DVD Review: Clockwork Orange County: The Rise of West Coast Punk Rock

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2014
Images from the Internet

Clockwork Orange County: The Rise of West Coast Punk Rock

Directed by Jonathan W.C. Mills
Endurance Pictures
92 minutes, 2011       
www.fearthismovie.com        
www.mvdvisual.com

In Costa Mesa, located in Orange County, California, the hardcore scene could be narrowed down to a single club, the Cuckoo’s Nest. Opened in 1979, from this very wellhead sprung the movement that some might say transformed punk into hardcore, setting in motion the third wave of punk rock.

Of course, every scene can claim that, from Washington, D.C.’s 9:30 Club, to the Masque in L.A., to A7 in New York, and so on. But there is no doubt that the Cuckoo’s Nest was a touchstone moment in the movement.

What is most impressive is the heavy hitters willing to talk to the camera (in 2011) here, including various members of bands like Social Distortion, T.S.O.L., the Circle Jerks, the Adolescents, Agent Orange, Black Flag (including Rollins, of course), Dead Kennedys (Biafra, of course), and so many of the others that took a scene and brought it to that whole new level which became a standard / uniform for the rest of the world, and in many ways is still in play now, over 30 years later.

Rather than just yammering heads, there is a wise choice in showing both music and talking clips from the period, mixed in with the “present” (again, 2011), so you can see how the musicians and fans have changed over the years. The music clips, all shot at the Nest, are not complete, but many of them are lengthy enough to actually get a feel for the appeal.

Each topic / chapter is introduced with a title card, and is discussed pretty well in detail, again mixing the past and present. It makes for an interesting oral history, most of which are of memory, but this lets the memory mix with the moment.

Some of the subjects discussed include:

·         the both figurative and literal fights with the rednecks in the C&W bar next door, who were constantly antagonizing and threatening the punks (naturally you don’t hear their side, which I think could be amusing).

·         the love / hate relationship between the bands / fans and the club’s owner, Jerry Roach, who Rollins calls “a tightwad son of a bitch.”

·         how important the parking lot scene outside the club was to the denizens of the Nest

·         when Pat Brown, one of the regular fans, allegedly tried to kill a cop by dragging him in his car (resulting in three shots by said cop hitting his car as he drove away; this film is dedicated to him)

·         and even how (possibly) Jim Decker, the lead singer of the Crowd, started Slam Dancing as a trend.

[Side note: the first time I ever saw slam dancing was by Harley Flanagan when he was the drummer for the Stimulators, who opened for Sousxie & the Banshees at Irving Plaza around 1982.]

The topic of slamming brings up the subject of excess violence that followed as part of the natural order. Joe Escalante of the Vandals refers to the aggression of the pit and the audience as the bands merely being “the soundtrack to beating the crap out of each other.” I often felt like many people at hardcore shows are not there to hear the music, but to strike out at anyone they can through fists and kicks in the pit. At the Nest, this resulted in the choking off of the punks via legislation and harassment (1000 tickets in 3 days) resulting in the closing of the Cuckoo’s Nest more than anything else (as announced on their local television by a very young Connie Chung).

The thing is, just about every hardcore scene on the West side of the country (not just OC) seemed to have followed the exact same pattern, if not timeline. It starts with some kids who liked bands like the Ramones and Sex Pistols, and they find a dive to drive it. The kids start forming their own bands and put some originality into it, only to get harassed by law enforcement (remember, right-wing Ronnie’s the Prez in 1980 and the “moral majority” nuts are starting to show their teeth). The violence perpetrated on the kids starts to show up in the scene when the jocks who used to beat them up for being punks find that by being punks themselves, they can join that mosh pit and continue to beat on the brats. The violence level increases by within and without, the media starts paying attention, this turns the fans away, and the source - in this case the Cuckoo’s Nest - closes down and effectively turns the tide by abating the access.

Another aspect of this film that is interesting is when they don’t just get stuck in the past and take it to the modern punk bands that were influenced by that scene, such as the Diffs and Death Punch. The original bands seem split on how their legacy has been picked up, whether that’s good or bad, and whether the modern punks are, well, really punk rock.

The only extra is the trailer and chapter selection.

Is this a good film? Well, yeah. They’ve taken what could have been a boring talking head film and made it interesting by grouping topics together, and mashing up historical film documents, including live performances, interviews, and newscasts, and also throwing in some of the newer area bands. It keeps the pace moving and the interest high. And if you’re like me, and you have the music of all those bands (didn’t see many of the West Coast bands live), it’s great to see the then-now differential.

Plus, it’s always great to hear the Circle Jerks’ Keith Morris’ strange and enjoyable vocal patter, Henry Rollins’ near poetic talking style, and Jello Biafra’s sibilant “s” and humor, for example.

 

DVD Review: X: The Unheard Music (The Silver Edition)

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

X: The Unheard Music (The Silver Edition)
Written and directed by W.T. Morgan
Angel City Media, 1986 / 2011
84 minutes, USD $16.95
MVDvisual.com

The band X (aka X The Band), formed in 1977, was one of the greats to come out of the early SoCal hardcore punk scene for many reasons; for me, the most impressive was that while they their music was on the cutting edge in both sound and style, with biting, sarcastic and ironic lyrics, they were not hardcore. I would describe it more as rockabilly-punk, leaning more towards, say, the Blasters and early Cramps sounds than the Circle Jerks or Black Flag.

Like the Who, all performed their parts as lead: elder member Billy Zoom, a master at the six- and twelve-string (among other instruments), played like a house on fire, all the while a big smile was usually plastered on his face (some would say smugly, but I say even if so, why not?). Bassist and co-vocalist (and key songwriter, not to mention film actor, much like Henry Rollins) John Doe handled his ax with a strong hand; while not as fluent on it as Entwhistle (then again, who else is?), he had a solid command of it. His vocals are classic rock and roll, and yet unique enough to pick out of a crowd. No one would ever call Excene Cervenka a great singer, but of course, that’s what makes her such a great singer. Her slurred and whiney vocals are a key to the distinctive sound that is X. Her tortured artist / poet soul is a key component of the band. DJ Bonebrake is one of the better drummers (and avid xylophonist, as is demonstrated in this documentary), with his schoolboy charm looks and devil glint in his eyes. One amazing section of this film is when he taps three different rhythms at the same time with his hands and foot while standing in a kitchen. I’m happy enough just to tap my head and rub my stomach.

My first experience of X was the single “White Girl,” which ironically I heard just about the same time as the Vktms’ “100% White Girl.” It was a couple of years later that I got their albums Los Angeles and Wild Gift. I was intrigued, but not bowled over. I did, however, enjoy the band’s appearances in the ’80s on American Bandstand (including doing an abbreviated “True Love Pt II”). And yet, though not appearing on this DVD, my fave cut of theirs remains “Burning House of Love.” As time has gone on, I’ve appreciated them more.

The documentary X: The Unheard Music came out 25 years ago, and yes, it is a good view of the history of the band, but it also is a record of the punk scene of the time; or at least the frame of it. For example, we get to see Brendan Mullen, owner of the infamous Masque Club, revisiting the club after years of it being shuttered. We also get to visit the studios of KROQ and meet DJ and ex-Black Flag vocalist Jello Biafra and the Mayor of the Sunset Strip, Rodney Bingenheimer, who discuss the band. A chilling moment is when we se Excene backstage at the closing Whiskey-A-Go-Go touchingly explain the famous night the band played right after they learned about her sister, who died on the way to the gig.

The documentary proper starts off, though, with a focus on all the members of the band individually, including home shots and pictures from childhood. Thrown in is audio clips and a (public access?) television interview with the band who conveys the story of the band’s formation.

Through live shots of the band playing on stage, then-MTV-style music videos, and studio recordings over b-roll, we follow the group as they are about to break. This leads to some interesting moments, such as a blending of one interview with an MCA Records A&R person who dismisses the band, and another of Slash fanzine’s Bob Briggs, who brought the band to him. The director shows a keen sense of humor as he interchanges the executives professing for the band Point Blank as the next-big-thing with a commercial for the Edsel (which was, coincidentally, the final Jeopardy question/answer the night I watched the DVD), which made me laugh.

This is just part of the undercurrent of social culture that is thrown into the mix throughout the entire film. For example, Tommy Hadges, program director for KLOX-FM, discusses how FM radio was to open up airwaves for indie music, but instead became swallowed up by corporate interests. Luckily, X signed with Elektra, and we see the beginning of the rise, such as it was, as they do in-store signings and performing on stage; the rest became history after the end of the documentary.

One of the other much-discussed scenes is the filming in the studio of the recording of “White Girl,” with their producer (and ex-Doors) Ray Manzarek. In a brief interview piece, he comments that after seeing the band at the Whiskey-A-Go-Go, he wanted to take them into the studio. It’s definitely a goofy moment, which is explained in the extras as Doe admits that the scene was faked / lip sync’d. Doesn’t matter, it’s still a wonderful moment as Doe drops his cigarette to sing and JD is wearing sunglasses in the studio, among other fine shots.

Director Morgan does quite the duty of telling the story of X, a nearly post-punk history of the SoCal clubs, and mixes them all with appropriate file footage from yore days of television and film. There is also many quick edits that are similar to the band’s “Wild Thing” video (did he direct that?).

Even in the early parts of this film, some of the future shows itself when Excene and John sit in their apartment singing the roots songs “Ramblin’ Man” and “Honky Tonk Blues.” This is prescient of them later forming country/rock/blues/roots band the Knitters, with members of X and the Blasters.

Besides being released in both stereo and 5.1 Surround HD, there are a few nice extras included. First up is an 18.5-minute current interview with John and Excene, who posit their experiences with X in general, and with their memories of the actual filming of this documentary, which was quite fascinating. This is followed by an interview with the Angel City crew who filmed the doc, including its director, around the time of the shoot. Next is a live outtake of the band on stage playing “Some Other Time.” The last two are the original trailer for the film (below) and still photos of the self-decorated song and poetry books of Excene.

While X did not last, due in part of impatience of band members and infidelity of others, it’s great to have this film as a testament of what it was all about at an important time in the band’s career. Meanwhile, they have reformed both X and the Knitters, so there’s still much to watch for coming ahead.

Song list:
Los Angeles
Year One
We're Desperate
Because I Do
Beyond & Back
Come Back to Me
Soul Kitchen
White Girl
The Once Over Twice
Motel Room in My Bed
The Unheard Music
Real Child of Hell
Johny Hit & Run Paulene
I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts
The World's a Mess; It's in My Kiss
The Have Nots