THE COLORS: A Case of Synesthesia [1981]

Text by Julia Masi / FFanzeen fanzine, 1981

Introduction, live photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2018

Images from the Internet, unless indicated

This article was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #7, dated 1981. It was written by our Managing Editor and current philanthropic goddess, Julia Masi.

I had the chance to see the Colors a few times, mostly at CBGBs, back around the time this article originally came out. Solid hard-edged powerpop sailing among a sea of punk, the Colors never really went anywhere, though on a verge a few times, releasing a couple of records and lasting for about four years. Some of its members did pretty well afterwards, though. For example, Charlie Pipp went on to join the David Johansen Group (pre-Buster Poindexter); Robert Vickers joined the much popular The Go-Betweens, and then Jersey’s own Yo La Tengo, and he now owns his own Public Relations firm called Proxy Media since 2005; Tommy (Tomas) Cookman is the founder/CEO of Cookman International and Nacional Records,which has released over 150 albums and earned at least nine Grammy or Latin Grammy awards from its over 72 nominations, and he is considered an ambassador of Latin alternative music. But while they were together, they were managed for a time by Hilly Kristal. – RBF, 2018

A shot of adrenalin in the fatigued veins of the New York music scene, the Colors explode on stage with a rush of hardcore rock’n’roll that recaptures the spirit of the ‘60s British Invasion. But these guys aren’t stuck in a time warp. Their debut EP, The Colors, produced by Clem Burke [of Blondie – RBF, 2018] for Infinite Records, proves that they have commercial viability for the ‘80s.

Tommy Cookman, Robert Vickers (pic (c) RBF)

Tommy Cookman (vocals), Paul Sass (lead guitar), Elf (drums), Charlie Pip (rhythm guitar), and Robert Vickers (bass) have the G-rated sexy looks that teenage idols are made of. And enough confidence in their talent to know how to use that as an asset.

“People underestimate us from the word go,” says Charlie. “They think we’re a little kid band. We’re really well rehearsed. As soon as we hit the stage, we hit them with this wall of really tight music. It shocks them.”

They may look like a bunch of rowdy kids hamming it up every chance they get, but there is nothing childish in their demeanor. Dressed in the vibrant colors and military style of the Mersey Beat era, they’re as much fun to watch as they are to listen to.

Tommy, who has an affected English accent, jumps around and off the stage to spur audience participation; offstage, he’s surprisingly low-keyed for a  lead singer, with a voice so soft you have to hug him to hear him. He doesn’t care that some people are initially attracted to the band because of their looks. “It’s like Cheap Trick. When they played the Palladium, the front was all twelve-year-old girls. And then there are all these twenty-five-year-old guys from Brooklyn pushing to get to the front because they like the music. The girls like Cheap Trick because of the way Robin (Zander) looks. People make these comparisons because they see a young band instead of what they do on stage.”

“We’re very audacious on stage,” mentions Paul. “We have a career in music cut out for ourselves. It just takes a lot more time than we may have in the past. We’re very serious. We may not be in a very serious business, but we’re very serious about it. And one of the most important things about it is money. It costs money to play. It costs a lot of money to sound good. We rehearse; that’s one of the best things about having a manager. We rehearse in a studio. But a lot of artistic and musical ideas and concepts we want to put across, we just can’t. We’re not conceptual masters. We don’t have studio production on the first record. The engineer, Jay Burnett, is a genius. But to do more than that, it takes not even our earning money, because bands don’t earn money anymore. They get signed to a four-year contract and the record company that sings them figures, ‘Well, they won’t make any money during the first contract, but when we re-sign them and they make it, they’ll pay us back all that money.’ And that happened with one out of a hundred bands. And the other ninety-nine go back to being dishwashers.”

“Now-a-days, you have to build a lot more than you did before,” explains Robert, in his light Australian accent. “You think of a band like The Who, or a lot of bands from the ‘50s or the ‘60s, they didn’t have to build up anything. They just had to arrive, and once they’re there, you can’t get rid of them. Once you have an establishment, you can never disappear. The public will keep buying the records no matter what you do.”

Paul Sass (pic (c) RBF)

The Colors know how to package them-selves so that people will buy their record, which comes in seven different shades of colored vinyl. The disc is wrapped in a sleeve which spouts a full-color picture of the boys, and has its titles in both English and Japanese.

Tommy, the resident “Jap-o-phile,” takes an active interest in the financial side of the band. He knows how important it is to capture the Japanese market, and he’s aware that the largest record consumers in Japan are teenage girls. “The whole Japanese thing is nice. You see singles that come out in America and especially on the New York scene, they all sort of have the same thing. The Japanese thing just sort of gives it a real distinctive sort of feel when you pick it up. It looks like an import.”

Another unusual feature about The Colors’ EP is that one side is in 45 and the other 33-1/3. Tommy states that, “Peter Crowley was telling me that at Max’s (Kansas City), they have it in the juke box with just one side playing two songs listed, and the other has a sign that reads, ‘Please do not play this side.’ About five times a night someone plays it.” The EP, which has Robert’s “Have You Seen Her” and “West End, “ Paul’s “Rave It Up,” “Growing Up American” and “Jealousy,” proves that the band’s sound cannot be diluted. Paul comments, “The single is a mini-production. It’s almost like a mini-album. Sometimes it seems that our entire set is one song with a lot of parts and a lot of breaks. That’s our business now. We talk about going in and slaying the audience. If they’re not screaming by the end of the set, then it’s a waste of time. If they’re not climbing on the stage, they’re dumb.

“Our instrumentation has a greater range. Not more than other bands, but some bands like to use the same style of playing over and over. Maybe it’s because they think it’s their style. We try to do as many different types of songs as we can. They’re all rock’n’roll-fast.

“Working with Clem has been a really good experience because he’s taken seriously in the industry.” They’re not worried that their association with Clem will have an adverse effect and draw biased criticism to the band. “We already went through that,” Paul notes. “Last Summer, we did about ten gigs with Clem and some of them were billed as ‘The Colors, featuring Clem Burke.’ And if you know the way Clem plays drums, then you know that we couldn’t appear on stage with him and not either get blown away or be really good. I’m sure people didn’t come up to Clem and say, ‘Sure you’re a great drummer, but the band you were with was terrible.’ I think he was a really good drummer for our band. We were right up there with him.”

Last September, Elf joined the band. He received his nickname in Junior High school, where he was always the shortest of his friends. And he likes it because, “When The Colors make it big, then your family doesn’t get a lot of mail, and nobody knows where you live.” On stage, the blond, doe-eyed drummer is almost obscured by his drum kit. “Want to know what kind of equipment I got? My drums were bought by Sears. Right out of the catalog. Sears brand.”

According to Charlie, their rehearsals aren’t much different from their performances. “I always believe that the audience is there for our entertainment only. I think of the audience as being behind the glass. It’s their privilege to watch us doing what we think is cool. We don’t need the audience to make the gig. We sound just as good with nobody there. It’s a treat for them. They’re paying to see us do our professional thing, like you’d pay to see a trapeze artist do a triple somersault. When he’s up there, he doesn’t say, ‘This one is for the crowd.’ He says ‘I’ll do a flip and go downstairs and have a cup of coffee. See you later.’ The audience is just there for him. I can’t say I don’t care about them, because they’re the consumer and the ultimate goal of what I’m trying to do. But I’m not writing songs to make money and to make those people like me. I’m saying, ‘Here, look, this is my statement in musical form. Let’s dance and have a good time’.”

“Being good on the guitar doesn’t mean being like Eric Clapton or something. It’s being able to quickly transmute your ideas and feelings at that moment into musical terms. Just picking up your guitar and saying, ‘I feel sad today,’ and playing all these sad chords. It’s just another way to speak. A lot of people in New York don’t get nothing out of them. They just get noise. But even the volume and the noise are expression. To me, the epitome of rock’n’roll is getting commercial airplay. Most of the bands can’t ‘cause they’re so experimental.”

“The real musicians,” Elf says, “are those Black cats who play in jazz clubs for $18 a night. They’ll play all night long.” He speculates that rock music is “going back to where it came from. Nothing new, but different. We’ve already had classical and psychedelic. And we’ve only had rock’n’roll for 27 years. Nobody has really done anything with it since Chuck Berry. It’s been refined. People can play more guitar notes and runs faster and faster, but then it got more intense, like Cream and Jimi Hendrix. And it got more intricate with lyrics, like ELP and Yes. That isn’t rock’n’roll. It doesn’t have that beat, like Chuck Berry says, on the 2 and the 4.” Elf thinks rock’n’roll will be around “as long as you have people who want to dance to the 2 and the 4, and people who want to get drunk and play.

“I’m in rock’n’roll ‘cause I got a scrap book I can put my pictures in. I gotta have something to show my kids.”

BLONDIE: Anarchy in the Streets! [1977], Big Star Fanzine Reprint

Text by Bernie Kugel / Big Star fanzine, 1977

Introduction and live photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2018

This article/interview was originally printed in Big Star fanzine, issue #2, dated August-September-October 1977. It was written by its publisher, Buffalo (NY) Musician Hall of Famer Bernie Kugel, who kindly granted permission for this reprint.

When Bernie Kugel did this interview, he was on the phone, sitting on his parent’s bed, both excited and nervous. I know, because I was there, trying to listen in. Bernie kept looking at me and smiling as if to say, “Hey, I’m talking to Debbie Harry!”

Blondie was one of the first bands we saw at CBGB during the early summer of 1975. They were opening for the Ramones, and there were perhaps a dozen people in the audience. We saw them again a few times together, and then after Bernie went off to Buffalo State College in 1976, I continued to see the band. In fact, they were one of the first groups I saw play the new stage at CBs, after it was moved to the right side of the room, and they started to fill the place (see the photo directly below, which also appears in the book The Encyclopedia of Punk Rock and Culture, by Brian Cogan). I have not seen them perform live, however, since the 1970s. – Robert Barry Francos, 2018

                                                      

Blondie are about to release their second album [Plastic Letters] and with songs that are as good as “I’m Always Touched By Your Presence, Dear” and some other new tunes they are doing, it should be a strong album indeed. And in live performances, they just keep getting better and better, and the Iggy and English tours have really helps strengthen their shows. In fact, the last time I saw them in NY, I felt like I was watching five Iggys, ‘cause they were all using movements associated with Mr. Pop. So, don’t pass up Blondie, kids, ‘cause I think they should be making some of the best pop records around during the next few years. I spoke to Debbie Harry on the phone briefly before the two big tours and here a little of what she had to say:

“Yeah, I think we’re real fortunate. Every other band that’s got an album has been together for three or four years, and our band’s been together for a year and two months completely. And we got a deal to do a single [“X Offender”/ “In the Flesh” – RBF, 2018] and it right-away developed into doing an album [Blondie – RBF, 2018], which I feel is indicative of the strength of our material. We have a unique sound. We have a sound, and that’s very valuable. A lot of bands don’t have their own sound. Like they have a good sound but it’s not original; it’s not unique. And that’s the most valuable thing you can have. And I think that bands that have gotten album deals from the NY scene all have a sound that’s unique, and that’s what has to be.

“I love the Ramones, I like the Talking Heads, I like the Mumps, I like Television sometimes, I like some things about Mink DeVille, I like some things about the Dead Boys, I like some things about Richard Hell, I like the Heartbreakers of course, I like some things about Wayne County and I like the Fast, and I have friends in all of these bands, of course.

“Before I was actively in a band, I used to just be more out in the audience and I wasn’t as particular; I didn’t know as much about what they were doing. Now I understand more from being inside of a band about what happens – what really happens. Yeah, I like Aretha Franklin and Dionne Warwick, things like that. I guess I admired Janis Joplin for her style; her vocal quality was, like, weird. I guess I like it ‘cause it’s unique and she could get a lot of feeling out of what she did.

“We like a lot of movies. Thrillers and monster movies. This Thursday promises to be a great day on TV with Mighty Joe Young and King Kong, two big ape movies. Chris likes a lot of Japanese movies. I like a lot of those old star movies with Peter Lorre, Humphrey Bogart and John Garfield, those creepy black and white things that are sort of fuzzy.

“Sometimes I don’t think I’m going to live much longer than tomorrow. It’s hard to become too political in this day and age for fear that you get up out of the way for saying too much, but I definitely think there should be some changes made. Who am I to be involved with politics? But yes, government is really fucked up.

“Patti Smith’s got a lot of fans. I think she’s really [great] at what she does but I don’t approach music from her point of view at all.

“We like Poe, Frank Frazetta, and Barry Smith. We’re all illiterate, really. Our favorite sports are egg-throwing and arsonry. Our piano player’s favorite sport is escaping; he’s an escape artist. I want to tour. I want to go to other planets, too. We want Coca-Cola in all the high school water fountains, anarchy in the streets and rock and roll.

“You from Buffalo? My mother lives Upstate. She always calls up the radio stations there trying to get our records played.”

Review: L.A.M.F. Live at the Bowery Electric

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2018

Images from the Internet
Note: there are no ads on this page, so no profit is make from use of images

L.A.M.F. Live at the Bowery Electric

Directed by James L. Reid and Margaret Saadi Kramer

Jungle Records / Industrial Amusement Inc. / MVD Visual

47 minutes + 22 minutes extra, 2017 / 2018

www.mvdvisual.com

There are always raging question, such as “Who was the first punk band?”, or “What was the first punk release?” For me, a more important question is “Which is the most influential punk album?” Yeah, there are lots of them, such as The Stooges, The Velvet Underground & Nico, The Ramones, The New York Dolls, and Never Mind the Bollocks. The simple answer is… I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure near the very top of the list is the Heartbreakers’ L.A.M.F., originally released in 1977.

Richard Hell-era Heartbreakers

The Heartbreakers were Johnny Thunders (vox, guitar), Walter Lure (vox, guitar), Billy Rath (bass) and Jerry Nolan (drums). Of them, Walter is the sole survivor. He’s been playing with his own band, the Waldos, for decades now. For the 40th anniversary of L.A.M.F.’s release, he decided to play the album from beginning to end. Of course, it couldn’t be as the Heartbreakers, but he and Jesse Malin put together an all-star group and named it after the album to be played. For this gathering at the Bowery Electric during November 2016, Walter is joined by Clem Burke (drums) of Blondie, Wayne Kramer (guitar) of the MC5 and Gang War (in which he was a member with Thunders), and Tommy Stinson (guitar, vox) of the Replacements and Guns ‘N Roses. In one form or another, I have seen all of them play, including guests Cheetah Chrome (guitar, vox) of the Dead Boys and Jesse Malin (vox, guitar). The sole newbie to me is vocalist rocker Liz Colby.

The new line-up played three shows at this venue, all of which sold out, and this DVD is a compilation of the best of it. They played the album from start to finish. While I wasn’t there, I’m grateful to have the opportunity to view this. Plus, the visuals and sound are crystal clear (with the exception of a few fuzzy images here and there), unlike the muddled original pressing of the album, thanks to Nolan’s tinkering.

Let’s face it, part of the charm and importance of the Heartbreakers isn’t the band’s music al clarity. The playing is sloppy, the vocals are equally so, and the songs range from pretty silly to drugged out bashing. But it was a combination that so incredibly powerful for just those reasons. I loved to go see the Heartbreakers. When they were there, they were a force. That is sort of what I was expecting: sloppy yet stormy. And that’s just what this is, thankfully.

Stinson takes the lead with “Born to Lose,” which has the great lyrics, “Living in a jungle, it ain’t that hard / Living in the city it will tear out your heart.” One of the names often given to this Thunders’ masterwork is “Born Too Loose,” and Stinson plays it just that way, screaming up into his microphone in modified-Lemmy fashion. The man can’t sing to save his life – not that Johnny was a stunning vocalist, but had a discernible and unique sound that was endearing. But Stinson has the energy and heart, matched by Kramer’s excellent guitar riffs. He also covers the next song, “Baby Talk” which doesn’t quite have the chantable chorus of “Born...” Damn, I can’t help but compare it to Johnny’s (both recorded and live), and the melody of the song gets lost here in the way he raspily shouts it.

I have been a fan of Walter’s since the first time I saw the Heartbreakers. Not surprisingly, he seems really at ease with one of my fave songs off the album, “All By Myself” While I always preferred the Live at Max’s version over the L.A.M.F. one, that’s not to say it’s any less great. Here, the retired Pharmacist and Stockbroker is in fine form, even though occasionally his voice sounds a bit scratchy. Shit, I’d still go to see him play at a moment’s notice. I smiled all the way through it, and even mouthed along with the song (well, I did that with most of it, but don’t tell anyone).

For the next two numbers, D Generation’s Jesse Malin (and co-proprietor of the Bowery Electric) hops up on stage, doing well to channel Johnny in the raucous “I Wanna Be Loved,” and the ballad “It’s Not Enough.” Jesse is vocally sloppy in a similar way to Johnny, so it’s a great fit.

For the first time at this point in the DVD, it’s easy to spot that there is a visual melding all three shows together as he dressed differently for each of the three shows, even though the sound is continuous from one of them. The cut-and-pasted images would be continued throughout the show.

I was at this show

While DeeDee Ramone wrote the song, and the Ramones also sang it, it was the Heartbreakers that first brought “Chinese Rocks” to the studio, and it’s rare to hear me say it, the Heartbreakers did it better. Again, I’m a fan of the Live at Max’s take, in which Walter adjusts the lyrics (i.e., making it not radio-friendly), and 40 years later, with Walter and Tommy at the vocal forefront, it still kicks ass. For this number, Kramer plugs in Thunders’ actual guitar. I’d like to add that Burke does well matching Jerry Nolan’s stand-out drumming on the song.

“Get Off the Phone” is another Walter classic, and I use that word sincerely. Walter handles it with aplomb – as always – again getting everyone to sing along. More than Thunders, Lure usually wrote songs whose choruses are more enjoyable to sing along with – said with no disrespect to Thunders’ who wrote some great numbers as well, of course.

Picture disc L.A.M.F.; I have it

Malin is thankfully back doing his best Thunders with “Pirate Love,” bringing up Cheetah Chrome to join in. Chrome is an excellent guitarist – always has been – and I’m glad as time has gone by, more people recognize it (and while you’re at it, check out his excellent autobiography, Cheetah Chrome: A Dead Boys’ Tale, but I digress…).

“One Track Mind” originally was a Walter Lure/Richard Hell composition, beginning its life as “Love Comes in Spurts.” After Hell – err – left the Heartbreakers, Walter changed the song around a bit and came up with another strong piece that was one of the Heartbreakers’ tunes on heavy rotation in the old Max’s Kansas City days. It definitely holds up (as does “Love Comes…” but I guess this isn’t the time or the place for that). And yes, I sang along. Kramer takes on Thunders’ guitar break, with Walter taking over at the end. This shows something important about what made the Heartbreakers so special. Kramer is a stunning guitarist, but he is quite clinical, without Johnny’s sloppiness. Walter is as loose as ever, and the contrast here puts firmly why Walter and Johnny were so great together as they complemented each other. Here, the sharpness of Kramer and the looseness of Walter sounds a bit strange. Wonderful, but strange.

Wayne Kramer and Liz Colby

I miss Johnny singing with Joy Ryder (d. 2015); usually they did “Great Big Kiss.” I bring this up because Liz Colby brings a dose of feminine rock to Johnny’s “I Love You,” a solid song that blasts, and she is up for the task, giving it an occasionally smoky, bluesy texture. She also made me think, “Wow, Johnny never jumped around the stage as much as she does”; then again, he usually couldn’t. He was more of a stage roamer with his tongue often doing the most movement.

                                                                                                

Cheetah comes back on both guitar and vocals knee deep with “Goin’ Steady.” While it is not as rough as Stinton’s, Chrome’s gritty voice matches the sound and the mood of the song, doing the Heartbreakers proud. Same can be said about Kramer, who takes the lead for “Let Go,” a powerhouse of a number. The rave up has a great chorus, especially when the band sings along.

Appropriately, Burke sings “Can’t Keep My Eyes on You,” which was a contribution to the album by drummer Nolan. Of course the song is about fashion, as that was one of Nolan’s (many) specialities. Burke’s vocals are a bit rough around the edges, buy hey, so was Nolan’s. Still a great song, though, and it gets the respect it deserves. Same with Kramer taking on the Thunders cover of The Contours’ “Do You Love Me,” which is a high-energy song to end the set.

Walter, Cheetah, Tommy, Clem

For the extras, there is a 3:08 minute interview with Clem Burke about how he came to be included, and his fandom of the Heartbreakers, especially Jerry Nolan. Next up is 3:29 of Jesse Malin who also discusses his love of the Heartbreakers and Walter in particular. For 3:10, Stinson fuckin’ talks about how fuckin’ important the fuckin’ record is and how fuckin’ drugs fuckin’ influenced it. In other words, he doesn’t really say that fuckin’ much that the whole fuckin’ world doesn’t already fuckin’ know. Walter’s bit is 4:41, and he discusses the place of the Heartbreakers in the local musical spectrum of its time, and his relationships with other Heartbreaker members. Last up is Wayne Kramer at a full 7:04, who waxes poetic on how Beethoven, Charlie Parker, rappers, etc., were punks, and how ignorant he was about the Heartbreakers’ music, even though he knew some of the songs as he was in a band with Thunders and played some of them live before.

I’m amazed at how young so much of the audience is in these three sold-out shows, and yet they’re singing along. That shows the power and influence of the Heartbreakers. My only annoyance – and this shows my age more than anything else, is how much of the view is blocked by people taping the show on their cellphones. Either get the pro cameras higher (if that’s possible or even realistic), or have a no taping policy. Yeah, I’m a curmudgeon about this, because I want to see the musicians through the lens of either my own eyes or the camerapeople, not the blue glow of the cells.

Just sayin'...

Now if I had a choice between seeing the capture of this reunion show or something like Scorsese’s The Last Waltz, about the last show of the Band, there is no question in my mind that I would plug in this. The odds are better of my not falling asleep with Uncle Walter and Co. I care more about being told to get off the phone than finding out about the night they driving old Dixie down. Hands down. Now how about a Rent Party show, Walter?

Bonus video (not included on this one):

DAVE STREET’s in the Wild [1981]

Text by Nancy Foster / FFanzeen fanzine, 1981

Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen blog, 2017

Images from the Internet

This interview was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #7, dated 1981. It was written by a Nancy Foster, whose Facebook page is kurrently Kandy Kabot.

Dave Street is an odd duck, and I say that with affection. Sure he was a New York-based punk rock stand-up comic back in the day, but he was also a fan and hung out with some of the illuminous stars in the scene. When this interview occurred, it was while he was working at Natasha’s Clothing Store on St. Mark’s Place when it was still cool. This is an insider’s story about hanging out on the scene.

In the period after the interview, he would go on to appear on Uncle Floyd and The Joe Franklin Show and write songs with Bobby Steele and the Undead which still continues. Lately, he works on environmental projects, and is in the process of making a horror film titled Monster Bizzness. Along with other not-for-profit causes such as programs for teenagers in homeless shelters and detention centers, he still writes and performs at various events. – RBF, 2017

FFanzeen: What was the most memorable thing about your writing period?

Dave Street: Trying to get paid as a freelance writer. That is why I ended up working in the store [Natasha; 1 St. Mark’s Place, NYC – RBF, 1981]. You don’t get paid when you write freelance. Also, interviewing Frank Zappa and trying to avoid the Editor-in- Chief…

FFanzeen: After that, you didn’t really want to be connected with writing anymore – you wanted to be involved with something else, like acting?

Dave: I had a punk acting company. We were called Robot Factory. That was before I was funny. That was when I was still negative and violent. We used to go onstage and give people cancer.

FFanzeen: Where did you do your act?

Dave: Our big thing was that we went onstage before the Dead Boys and the Cramps in Hollywood, on the closing night of the Masque (Club).

FFanzeen: When did you first start doing comedy? Did you tell jokes in school? Were you like a class clown?

Dave: No, actually, I’ve led a very painful life, to the point where I was either going to hang it up, literally, or start laughing at myself. I was forced to become a comedian just to be able to deal with my own miserable existence. Sniff, sniff, whine, whine.

FFanzeen: Oh, that’s one of those lines like, “Live been asexual for 5 years!”

Dave: I have. No, that really is the truth. At different points I have hated myself, my parents, my family, my employers and everybody else in the world. Not wanting to be a hateful person, the only alternative I had to hating was laughing. This is a very sombre conversation.

FFanzeen: Who are some of your favorite comedians?

Dave: Lenny Bruce, Bill Cosby, Bob Hope, Mort Sahl, Dick Gregory, Groucho Marx. I’m sure I forgot a few of them, but those are my main ones. Bob Newhart. Yeah, those are my main comical influences. I listened to a lot of old stand-up comedy albums from the ‘50s and ‘60s.

FFanzeen: Do you listen to comedy albums more than you listen to rock’n’roll?

Dave: Now I do, but I used to always listen to rock’n’roll. I’ve only started listening to comedy albums over the last year. It took me about half a year just to get a collection. One thing that is interesting about collecting comedy records is that the comedy records that you can learn much from, like the most radical comedians who are the most against the system, their records cost more than anybody else’s to buy.

FFanzeen: Like who, for instance?

Dave: Mort Sahl, Dick Gregory, Lenny Bruce – their albums cost about $30. But you find a Marx Brothers album and it’ll cost you about $5.

FFanzeen: Do you think that Lenny Bruce was killed? Some people think he was given a hot shot.

Dave: Yeah, they killed him because he was a junkie.

FFanzeen: You get any ideas for routines from living with your boss?

Dave: I sure do! It is a super real reality. What could be the epitome of the worst possible working relationship than living with your boss?! Especially if you want to do something else with your life. It’s depressing and depression makes me funny. Of course, if I wasn’t depressed all the time, I wouldn’t have to be funny. This not just living with my boss; it’s living with and simultaneously trying to avoid…

FFanzeen: When and where was the first time you did your comedy act?

Dave: Before I did my comedy act, I did a one-man show last Fall at Hurrah’s called I am the Center of the Universe. This was an extension of what I had done with the punk acting company. It was like a violent confrontation of self and the whole “Me! Me! Me!” ego of the 70s.

FFanzeen: Did you abuse the audience?

Dave: Yeah. A writer from the New York Post asked me, wouldn’t everybody else and I be happier if I made people laugh with the same energy instead of trying to project my own unhappiness onto the audience and trying to make them as unhappy as I was? …Anyway, I started to think about it and started writing stand-up routines. A month later, I did my first gig at 5 AM at Studio Zero.

FFanzeen: What was the audience’s reaction when you first started this?

Dave: It was like, “Who do you think you are?!” The audience reaction was like one big beer bottle thrown at me.

FFanzeen: Does that mean they like you?

Dave: That means I got a reaction from them anyway, which is better than having them walk away. No one walked away, but a lot of people were antagonized. A lot of people didn’t think what I was saying was funny. They thought it was insulting. A lot of people who share the same pain as I do wanted to laugh at it. But there are others that don’t want to be reminded of it at all. So when I make jokes about it, their attitude is, “I don’t want to hear about that!” The funny thing is that they have that attitude until they meet me. People who threw bottles at me would come in the store with a friend and say, “Hey! I’m the guy who threw the beer bottle at you last week.” And I’d say, “Gee! Thanks! Why’d you do that.” And they’d say that they didn’t agree with what I was saying, but added, “Now that I know you, I’m doing to laugh and I’m going to beat up anyone who does throw a beer bottle!” Note the fact that they still might not agree with me, but the fact that they don’t agree with me has nothing to do with it anymore because they know who I am!

FFanzeen: So, what does that have to do with anything? That you should make friends with the audience so you won’t get killed?

Dave: It shows that the solution is to perform less and throw more parties. I should throw a party before every performance so that everyone knows me. Then, by the time I go on, the whole audience will like me.

FFanzeen: Who was the comedian who opened for the Rockats at the Rock Lounge?

Dave: I don’t talk about other comedians. It is against my principles to talk about anybody who is not helping my career. The only comedian who is helping my career is Tessie Chua, whose movie I am in. I’ve done a film called The Scary Truth About Roaches and Landlords [could not find any reference to the film – RBF 2017], in which I play a deranged tenant, in case you haven’t seen it. It was at the Mudd Club [d. 1983 – RBF, 2017]. Steve Mass [Mudd Club’s owner – RBF, 1981] plays the landlord. He’s one of the main characters. In my scene, I play off Steve Mass. I, of course, have always had a lot of arrogance towards the very premise of the Mudd Club’s existence, so I had a lot of fun working with Steve. I felt a lot of natural hostility in a friendly way [hunh? – NF, 1981] that kind of made it work.

FFanzeen: A love/hate relationship?

Dave: Yeah, it’s like knowing I belong there, but being opposed to being there ideologically [hunh? – NF, 1981]. I am opposed to the fact that there’s someone at the door telling people that they can’t come in [I agreed then and now – RBF, 2017].

FFanzeen: That’s not happening now. They are courting the non-hipsters now, dahling.

Dave: They didn’t let me in last week. I work so hard – 10 hours of the day, every day of the week – and I’m usually too tired to go out at night. But I went there after not being out for about four months, and the doorman didn’t believe that I was Dave Street; so, he didn’t let me in – not because he didn’t know who Dave Street was, but because he thought I was using Dave Street’s name to try and get into the Mudd Club free.

FFanzeen: You should have said you were Gloria Vanderbilt! Oh, I heard that you had a little confrontation with Deborah Harry at the Mudd Club.

Dave: I wish I had. I don’t think I have achieved that world importance yet.

FFanzeen: Tell me about the David Johansen film, Thau in Love [never officially released – RBF, 2017].

Dave: I’m in two brief shots. I might be on the screen two minutes if I’m lucky. But I had a lot of fun working with David. I think David is brilliant at setting up the premise of action – the way he assembled people and set up situations really make it work well.

FFanzeen: Did he write the script, or is he just directing?

Dave: Yeah, he wrote it. I don’t know about other people’s roles, but my script was somewhat improvised – not the storyline, but the actual verbal interaction was partially ad-libbed. I’m in a short shot where I play myself. I come into Marty Thau’s [Red Star Records – RBF, 1981; d. 2014 – RBF, 2017] office. I tell him obnoxious jokes and he blows smoke in my face. In the next scene, I’m a go-go boy.

FFanzeen: What do you wear as a go-go boy?

Dave: I just dressed as a regular person. I just danced funny. As a result of that, I’m working on a whole routine about dancing funny, and I’m in Clem Burke’s video of the Colors, doing the same thing.

FFanzeen: So, you’re broadening your career options? How did you get connected with Johansen?

Dave: He called me up at the store. I do an impersonation of David, too. I do a “Pray-Tell Records” ad which pokes fun at the commercialization of New Wave songs: “Twelve of the greatest unoriginal New Wave hits!” I do David Jo’s grandson doing, “Punky But Weak” [mocking a soulful yet spiritually wracked voice]: “I got a black eye that somebody gave me / When I got into a fight and nobody would save me / I’m punky, punky but weak…” I do that in the film, too, but I might be cut. One never knows what’s going to happen in the editing room. We all know the politics of film are often more important than the actual performances. You can do a great performance and the editor might not like you for personal reasons.

FFanzeen: Do you do spoofs on other rock’n’roll people?

Dave: I do funny marriages. Like if Rachel Sweet married Nick Lowe, she’d be Rachel Sweet’n Lowe. In which case, the FCC would probably find out that listening to her music causes cancer and all her records would have to be taken off the shelves. If Bette Midler married Eddie Money, she’d be Bette Money, but don’t bet your life and never bet more than you can avoid paying back. If Cherry Vanilla married Iggy Pop, she’d be Cherry Pop.

FFanzeen: Yum-yum.

Dave: Fizz, fizz. We completed that routine, anyway.

FFanzeen: Would you ever be part of a comedy duo?

Dave: Occasionally I do do things like that with other people that I can play off of; I’m working on a film script right now with some young people, including Rip Torn’s daughter, Angelica Torn [known as Angelica Page after 2010 – RBF, 2017], and her boyfriend, Joe Witty. It’s going to be a rock’n’roll East Side Kids sort of comedy. It should be about a one hour video.

FFanzeen: When did you get connected with the local rock’n’roll scene?

Dave: I was still living in New Jersey in 1975 [as he does now – RBF, 2017], but I was coming to see the Ramones from the first week they played [1974 – RBF, 2017]. I was hanging out in the scene from the very beginning. I was coming to see the Dolls in the glitter days. I was going to see the Mothers [of Invention] when they were cool, back in 1965. I’m 30 years old and I’ve been coming to New York City since I was 14, seeing these 35 year old guys hanging out in rock’n’roll clubs talking to pretty girls and I said, now I know what I want to do when I’m 35! I don’t want to be a doctor, I don’t want to be a lawyer; I want to hang out in rock’n’roll clubs and talk to pretty girls!

FFanzeen: Do you get a lot of disco-babies coming into the store?

Dave: I sell the exact same clothes to disco people as I sell to punks. Disco people say, “I want these clothes so nobody will say, I’m punk,” and the punks say, “I want these clothes so nobody will say I’m disco.”

FFanzeen: What do you like to do for fun when you’re away from the store?

Dave: I’m not allowed to have fun.

FFanzeen: What about when the two go-go girls came in the store and raped you?

Dave: They broke my year-long asexuality. I said I had sex with them; I didn’t say I had fun with them. I felt an obligation to give in, but I didn’t feel any obligation to have fun. When I get drunk and insult people at the Mudd Club is the only time I ever have fun.

A Stream of Consciousness Review of CBGBs: The Movie

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2014

Images from the Internet

 

Watching CBGB’s: The Movie (yeah, I’m just getting’ to it now, you wanna make somethin’ of it?), and here are some comments that I’m sure most of which have already been logged elsewhere before, but I’m just riffing.

 

While I believe they should have used Please Kill Me as a reference, as it is the source of information of the period. Using the Punk mag framework is interesting. The ‘zine came out, however, after the scene had already started, so… how can they posit that they originated the music revolution after the Ramones were already playing over a year?

 

Johnny Galecki does a decent Terry Ork, but I remember Ork being a lot more twitchy, quirky and effervescent. We (I and Bernie Kugel) used to stop by Cinemabilia, the film memorabilia store he worked, and buy his singles directly from him.

 

The stage is on the wrong side of the club, as it wasn’t moved to the right side until a couple of years later (the first band I saw play on the new stage was Blondie). Early on, the pool table was on the right, where the stage ended up.

 

The sound system started out as crap, until Hilly infamously bought a way-expensive and incredibly sounding one later in the ‘70s. It was top of the line for it’s time considering how the club looked so run down.

 

When we meet Television, the focus seems to be on Tom Verlaine, and they definitely undercut Richard Hell’s personality, which was equally as strong. And I remember Hell being twitchier on stage, jerking around and weaving back and fourth, rather than leaning forward aggressively.

 

The soundtrack is the best thing so far, but they’re too ambitious, just playing the opening notes of Lou Reed’s “Heroin” and the Flamin’ Groovies’ “Slow Death,” for example. As much as I love the song, the placement of the Count IV’s “Psychotic Reaction” confused me. Much of the music in the film is, of course, out of sequence chronologically, but I’ve heard that complaint before…anyway back to it.

 

Oh, and Jonathan, the dog, was way-way uglier. He was a friendly pooch who mostly left you alone, though he really did shit all over the place. I always kept away from the pinball machine near the door because underneath was a favorite place of his to release the hounds of bowels.

 

Talking Heads first show as in June 1975, opening for the Ramones (first show I saw there). Blondie opened for the Ramones a few weeks after that. There were maybe twelve people in the audience. I never saw a full house until a couple of years after that. The first time I needed to make a reservation was early ’77 when the Dead Boys were opening for the Damned. The actor who plays Debbie Harry is mangling her New Jersey (not New York) accent. When Talking Heads played, bassist Tina Weymouth was focused on Byrne with big, staring eyes, not unfocused off in the opposite direction. Byrne waved his head back and forth when he sang, though in the first show I saw he moved the front of his head instead of the back, so his voice had a Doppler effect.

 

I never ever saw Patti Smith booed for doing poetry on stage. She usually read until the band was plugged in, tuned, and ready to play. Of course, “Because the Night” wasn’t performed until much, much later, as it was co-written with Springsteen, and she would not have ad access to that large an A-list talent at the beginning. By 1975, when Patti played the Bottom Line (the first time I saw her play, but hardly the last), she rarely was at CBs anymore, though infamously – and it’s mentioned at the end of the film – she was the last to play on its stage.

 

The best part of the Punk interview with Lou Reed was when they mentioned how Handsome Dick Manitoba of the Dictators called him a creep in the song "Two Tub Man," though  the line was actually written by Adny/Andy Shernoff, and they never mentioned that it was a lyric), and he became irate. I never saw Johnny Ramone rush off the stage in anger, but did see DeeDee do it a couple of times after getting electrical shocks.

 

Much as I love Wayne/Jayne County, and give her props for helping the scene in its most nascent stages, I think of her more as a Max`s person, probably because she wrote (and performed) the definitive theme song for the other club, and DJ'd there often.

 

The Dead Boys' portrayal seems pretty decent to how I remember, though it would have been cool to show how Stiv climbed inside the bass drum, as he did sometimes. However, this scene is definitely based on a 1977 film clip of the band that is available on YouTube. Ron Weasley's Cheetah Chrome is quite good, though; it was the first thing that made me smile in the film. Check out Cheetah`s version of the events in his autobiography (reviewed HERE).

 

As for song-time being accurate, it is correct that they had Blondie doing "X-Offender" in that period. While I know Debbie and Iggy had a bond through both being ex-users, and were friendly, I never heard of them playing together on stage at CBs; in fact, I don`t remember Iggy ever on stage there at all, although I could be wrong about this. I wasn`t there every night, after all.

 

Joey Ramone reading a contract? He was way smarter than most people gave him credit for, but he also had incredibly bad eyesight, and received most of his news from television (as opposed to Television).

 

I`m an Alan Rickman fan (been so especially since Kevin Smith`s Dogma in 1999, though his stance on being anti-Israel is weighing heavily on me), but even he can't help the dragging second and third acts. Hell, even Johnny Blitz getting stabbed seems…whatever. And what about the Blitz Benefits? They were amazing; went to two of the three, and saw Belushi fill in on the drums with the Dead Boys.

 

Oh, and Teenage Jesus and the Jerks were also mostly a Max`' band (though they may have played CBs, too). They were one of the worst interviews I ever did; total assholes.

 

And what about the Live at CBGB's double LPs No mention of that at all. I have a distinct memory of driving there on my way to somewhere else in the rain, just to pick up the copies directly from the club. Yes, I still have them.

 

The Police were as boring live in real life as they were in this film. Saw them play the Diplomat Hotel basement for about 100 people around the time of "Roxanne" and thought they were absolutely terrible (The Vapors, who I also saw there, were so much better). My good friend`s future ex-wife never forgave me for hating them and wanted me banned from being Best Man at their wedding. Nice.

 

It was nice to see Genya Ravan portrayed. Her rightful distaste of the Dead Boys' use of Nazi imagery is well documented, and the actor playing her, Stana Katic, did a decent job, despite the poor New York accent, but where was Castle? Check out Genya's excellent autobio, Lollipop Lounge (2004).

 

The Dictators' music is represented and there is a little Dictators sticker at the beginning, but they were the first CBGBs band singed, despite the nada physical depiction on film. Johnny Thunders and Walter Lure, while being mostly (again) related to Max`s, rarely played CBGBs in their various forms, such as the Heartbreakers, the Heroes, the Waldos, etc.

 

Thee were also many strange acts to play there, that one would not normally thing of, such as Peter Tork and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (I had some words with him about that name: HERE).

 

Overall, yes, it was important for me to watch this, but mostly, yeah, it was a bad film.

 

Postscript by Phyllis Stein:

I don`t remember Iggy ever playing with Blondie at CBGBs. Although Iggy did hang out one night in the summer of 1977 with Thunders, Sable [Starr], and me. The Blitz stabbing was fiction in the film. The rest of the Dead Boys were not even with Johnny Blitz when he was stabbed. Blitz was with his girlfriend, Michael Sticca, and Marcia Leone, Billy Rath`s girlfriend. The soundtrack is a joke. The New York Dolls never played there ever! And the Talking Heads song they included was much later from 1978. Jonathan was a Saluki. In the film, they cast Jonathan as an Afghan hound. I could go on and on, but I`m sure you get my point.

 

RBF: Please feel free to add your own corrections below in the comment section. Note that what you write will not show up until I approve it, to fight SPAM.