David Johansen: Showdown at 14th Street & Success Blvd. [1981]

Text by Alvin Eng / FFanzeen, 1981
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

David Johansen is more than a cult musician, he is both an icon of underground denizens and a hero to most of the respected musical artists on rock / punk / blues scenes, especially those over the age of 30. As if his tenure as the vocalist / harmonicist of the New York Dolls wasn’t enough, there are probably multitudes more who know him as his alter ego, the bluesy Buster Poindexter. The origins of Poindexter can certainly be found towards the end of this interview. When this took place, he was in a solo career between the Dolls and Buster.

But here is a story about Johansen that isn’t about him directly: In 1979 or ’80, when I was 24 years old, I was working as an usher at a movie house in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, called the Alpine. Occasionally, I would go diagonally across the street and have a sandwich at a corner luncheonette. One day I was there by myself, eating and reading a paperback titled Billy Lives, by Gary Brandner. It’s a cynical story about a dead rock star and how his death was marketed. In the edition I had (and the reason I bought it in the first place), the front of the book was a bad illustration of the New York Dolls, even though they had nothing to do with the story.

So I was sitting at the counter, and a middle aged woman turned to me and said, “Excuse me, is that David Johansen on the cover of that book?” Remember this is 1979 or so, and I said, of course, “Yeah!” She said, “My daughter used to date him years ago, when he still lived on Staten Island.” I don’t remember if there was any more of the conversation, but it seemed so incongruous to me then.

The first time I saw Johansen play was one of the last Dolls shows, which was at On the Rocks on November 4, 1976, sharing a bill with the Brats. Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan had already left the band. There were a couple of other times I saw him perform, including at Johnny Thunders’ Memorial Show at the Marquee in 1991. The last time was an invitation-only show of the reformed Dolls at Tower Records in 2006 to celebrate the release of their One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This LP.

This interview was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #8, dated 1981. It was written by mega-Dolls fan Alvin Eng. – RBF, 2015

America and art make strange bedfellows. Most often than not it is finesse which makes art fine art; however, the star spangled approach often balks on finesse diverting to excessive sweat and struggles to assimilate the mold. David Johansen is one performer with a genuine care for his art that is totally void of the stars and stripes syndrome plaguing many of his peers. From perfecting perplexed pouts with the New York Dolls to redefining style on his own, Johansen remains the rag doll who can make magic out of seemingly worthless scraps. Just witness the verve in which he’ll transform a tattered hat into an ideal stage piece by carefully tilting it on his head with the right grin to match.

The following interview took place June 25, 1981, at the “fabulous” Malibu club shortly after his third solo LP, Here Comes the Night, was released. This album promises to end the popularity crisis In Style and David Johansen couldn’t. Whether Johansen becomes a national star or a national “cult” figure, he’ll continue to be one of the most inimitable singer / songwriter / showmen of our time. Before getting “too flashy or neat,” let’s proceed.

FFanzeen: Well, it’s been a year since we last saw you. What have you been up to?

David Johansen: This is like the Barbara Walters show. Well, what have I been up to in the past year, besides procrastinating?

FFanzeen: Well, I’ll start you off. What became of the video, Thau in Love that you’ve been working on [I can find no record of it ever being released. – RBF, 2015].

David: Maybe we’re gonna try and show it on TV, and maybe clubs. We don’t know what we’re gonna do with it yet.

FFanzeen: Did it involve your script only, or is there music too?

David: Yeah, music and new songs, and I directed it.

FFanzeen: I understand (comedian) David Street of Natasha’s [clothing store on St. Marks Place run by Natasha Adonzio during the 1970s-80s – RBF, 2015] is in it.

David: The thing isn’t finished yet so we don’t know who’s gonna be in it. But we have a lot of film on a lot of people.

FFanzeen: Have we seen the last of you, Syl Sylvain and Elliot Murphy as the French Ticklers?

David: I think so. You know what happened with that was we were just gonna play and it would be a normal night at Tramps with our friends there, and stuff like that. So they said, “OK, open up for this group called the Fabulous Thunderbirds,” and I never heard of them, so I figure who gives a shit? We got there and it turns out this is a very popular group and there was all these people there to see ‘em. And we came on and they didn’t want to see us at all. We had to do two sets, and we were breaking strings and fuckin’ up all the songs because we hardly even practiced.

FFanzeen: Rolling Stone got a hold of this and said it was great.

David: They probably weren’t there.

FFanzeen: Also, last year, you appeared on Garland Jeffrey’s Escape Artist.

David: I think I did. A lot of people tell me that.

FFanzeen: I think you’re on “Innocent,” the low voice saying, “We’ll let you go this time.”

David: Oh-oh-oh, it’s all coming back to me; that’s the one. (In a deep, judicial voice) 400 years for you!

FFanzeen: Have you known Garland a long time?

David: Well, he lives on my block.

FFanzeen: Your only release last year was “Flowers of the City” for the Times Square soundtrack.

David: That was the last one with the other guys. We did that one for Stigwood and he paid us handsomely for it, so I didn’t have to work for a few months. So I took that opportunity to –

FFanzeen: – Fuck around and hit the beach?

David: Yeah, I did that, but I also took that opportunity to write the songs.

FFanzeen: The most important thing you did last year was that you hooked up with Blondie Chaplin.

David: Yeah, well, we met in California at this place in Costa Mesa called the Cuckoo’s Nest. It’s run by this cat named Jerry Roach, who’s a good friend of mine and he’s a good friend of Blondie’s, so he introduced the two of us and it was kind of like his idea. We got along really great and we just started working together.

FFanzeen: Let’s talk about Here Comes the Night. In the (New York) Daily News, you said that this album best captures you.

David: Well, I think it captures my spirit and my style. You know rockers is really what the people what from me and that’s what I think the album is, mostly.

FFanzeen: But on an overview, it seems like a lot of the songs are looking outward rather than drawing from personal episodes, like before. Like this time it seems you’re more storytelling than drawing out your own self.

David: What can you write unless it’s something you know about, really? I don’t write about nothing I haven’t experience or wouldn’t want to, you know what I mean? So, um, I don’t know what to say. I think that they’re similar; they’re just happier – you know what I mean? ‘Cause I’m a very happy person.

FFanzeen: It seems that way now. You had a lot of anger in your other two albums.

David: Well, I don’t know if it was anger. Maybe frustration.

FFanzeen: So, do you feel it’s not a conscious effort to be more universal, it’s just that you’re in a happier frame of mind these days?

David: Yeah, you know, it’s funny. A lot of people make a big deal about songwriters and songs and stuff like that; I just write a song because it feels good and it sounds, and stuff you know, basically. Lots of times I write a song at the last minute.

FFanzeen: Let’s get into some of the songs, starting with “She Loves Strangers.”
 Is there a little history behind it?

David: Not really; it’s just alike a hot kinda summer song, I think.

FFanzeen: I think “You Fool You” could be the hot summer song.

David: Yeah, “You Fool You”; that’s kind of a preachy tune, right?

FFanzeen: Yeah, but a very truthful one. Now you’ve said “Party Tonight” is one of the only true life songs on the album.

David: Well, I think it’s a song that’s not really just about – well, I got pet themes, you know that, right? And one of them has always been like partying anyway, or in the face of adversity – you know what I mean? And that one falls into that category, I think. But it’s kinda like a real life song, don’t you think? ‘Cause lots of people on the street make cameo appearances in that song and, you know, you see a bum and you think about what’s going on with him or something, you know what I mean?

FFanzeen: I thought a direct connection is in “Marquesa de Sade,” that it echoes “Lonely Tenement” thematically. You know, episodes of oppressed city people.

David: Um, yeah. You like that song, hunh?

FFanzeen: It’s my favorite off this LP. And I was wondering if it wouldn’t be wrong to call this album by DJ and Blondie Chaplin rather than just by David Johansen?

David: Don’t let Blondie hear that!

FFanzeen: In these concerts, you’ve never been in better shape or voice. “How do you do it?”

David: Oh, a strict health regime; clean living.

FFanzeen: Will your stronger voice bring on more diverse changes?

David: Well, I think my voice had kind of found its range or been forced into its range, or whatever, by gunpoint or something. You know, it’s like it just comes from doing it, Al. You know, singin’ and singin’ and singin’, and then you don’t try to sing things you really can’t sing. Although I still do. I mean, like I can’t sing “Build Me UpButtercup,” but I always try, you know? I’m like a natural baritone it seems, but a lot of songs I try to hit like a tenor or a higher note, like on the higher parts of “Bohemian Love Pad,” or stuff like that. So it’s really good for me to try to sing high. I don’t want to always sing low because when you try to sing high, even though you can’t maybe hit it perfect or something, you eventually learn, so it’s good practice. Like singing “Buttercup” so many times gave me what it took to sing those high notes in “Bohemian Love Pad,” or whatever songs are high.

FFanzeen: Will this bring on any more surprises? Like for a while last year you were doing Joan Armatrading’s “Takin’ My Baby Uptown.” 

David: Yeah, “Bette Davis Eyes.”

 

FFanzeen: Really?!

David: Nah.

FFanzeen: How about “You Light Up My Life” (as he’s done before)?

David: Patti Smith used to do that one. She used to tear the house down with it. [I’ve always preferred the Patti Smith version – RBF, 2015]

 

FFanzeen: Who’s the current band?

David: Tony Machine on drums; Jack Riggs, guitar; Brett Cartwright on bass; Tom Mandel on pian-y; and Blondie on guitar.

FFanzeen: Are they permanent? ‘Cause I know Tom’s gonna play with Ian Hunter this fall.

David: Otherwise it seems that way. But I don’t know; I can’t foresee the future, really.

FFanzeen: Speaking of appearances, did you know that you, Syl and Johnny Thunders [d. 1991 – RBF, 2015] were advertised to appear at the Peppermint Lounge on June 7?

David: No, I never knew that.

FFanzeen: WNYU announced it, and if you called the club, they’d tell you that David Johansen was gonna appear tonight. It was billed as a Dolls reunion/Thunders benefit. Did you know about this at all?

David: I heard there was going to be a benefit there, but I didn’t know they were advertising that as such. But anyway a lot of people showed up, so Johnny probably got bailed out then, right? So it’s a happy ending.

FFanzeen: How do you and Johnny get on these days?

David: I very rarely see him, really. From time to time I see him and we get on just fine.

FFanzeen: How do you react to some of his unkinder public statements about you?

David: Well, you know a lot of the things you read in the paper are kind of image type things. I mean contrary to popular belief, Elvis Costello is a nice guy, you know what I mean? And if people found out about that he’d be ruined. Well, he (Johnny Thunders) does a lot of things for effect or something, like show-biz or something.

FFanzeen: So you take him with a grain of salt?

David: I’m amused by it.

FFanzeen: Do you think he’ll ever fulfill his potential again? Because a lot of people always say Thunders could’ve been the bad boy rocker.

David: I think he could do anything he put his mind to.

FFanzeen: Which brings us ‘round to the inevitable: the New York Dolls. What do you think of today’s teens in Dolls t-shirts? ‘Cause these kids weren’t old enough to “be there” at all.

David: What do I think about that? I think it’s great, Al. I think when the Dolls were out, there was only a certain group of kids who really liked it, right? And over the years, they turned all their friends onto it and stuff, and the whole kind of what they call the New Wave trip, you know? So there’s a lot more people available to be involved in it these days, you know, who avail themselves to such musical tastes. Let’s put it that way.

FFanzeen: The world is ready for it now.

David: Yeah, there’s enough kids that are into it that are tired of – shit.

FFanzeen: And do you accept your role – yours personally as the “granddaddy of punk,” and the Dolls as the first, or “forerunners of punk”?

David: Do I accept my role as that. No, because I don’t like, accept roles. They fuckin’ hang you up, you know? They nail you up, and for the record, I’d like to say I accept the honor of having singlehandedly lessened the standard of an entire industry.

FFanzeen: Also for the record, were the Dolls punk, or an abstract glitter band?

David: When I was a kid, punk was like, the Seeds  and the Amboy Dukes. Love was kinda punky, but there were other punk bands. There were lots of ‘em; the Leaves. Remember all those bands? Lenny Kaye put a lot of ‘em on his Nuggets album. You know, like that kind of stuff was considered punk rock. Like Shadows of Knight singing “Gloria,” you know what I’m talking about? That was like punk rock and I could relate to that because it’s got that sort of garage trip to it.

FFanzeen: What kind of reflection is that on today’s scene that Dolls albums and buttons are moving faster than ever now?

David: Well, it’s like an art statement. You see someone with a Marilyn Monroe t-shirt or an Elvis t-shirt, it’s an aesthetic statement saying about, you know, I’m like this, we’re that way, or something like that.

FFanzeen: And where do you see rock heading now?

David: I have no idea; I don’t care where it goes. It can go to hell for all I care.

FFanzeen: Then what would you do?

David: I’d still play my music. You know it doesn’t concern me really; trends, you know. I think millions of things happen because there’s millions of people who like all different kinds of music and there’s so many people around that want to listen to music; they’re bound to have different ideas about it and there’s plenty of music for everybody.

FFanzeen: How’d you feel about interviewing Vin Scelsa on WNEW-FM the other night? He never gave you a chance to talk.

David: Yeah, well, he likes to talk. I let him do his thing.

FFanzeen: I thought he kinda cut you off a lot

David: Yeah, I caught you doing that before, so… (laughs)

FFanzeen: How’s DJ doing as a person these days?

David: Oh, just fine, thanks. You know, I’m really happy I’m working and stuff again, ‘cause for a couple of months I hadn’t worked, so that’s good for me. You know we went down to Florida to finish up the album and I didn’t really want to come back. But they finally came down and got me and brought me back. I didn’t really want to have to work every night, but now that I’m doing it, I’m enjoying it. All my anxieties were unnecessary.

FFanzeen: What was the fear involved?

David: You know – alarm clocks, contracts, phone calls. Stuff like that.

FFanzeen: How’s New York City doing?

David: How’s New York? It’s summer and it’s great. Everybody’s out and running ‘round like wild people. All night.

FFanzeen: There’s no more WLIB, though [WLIB-AM is now a gospel station – RBF, 2015].

David: Yeah, only on weekends now. That’s one of the most sad things. I think they got certain good people on that station, like Pablo Guzman. He did this description of Bob Marley’s funeral that was stirring. My hairs were standing up! I had goose bumps just from someone on the radio rappin’ about something. So that really moved me, but you can do that and still play music. That’s awful ‘cause I look forward to Sundays and, like, Haitian Day and stuff like that. Now it’s like they gotta play reggae on Sunday ‘cause they gotta worry ‘bout their numbers [ratings – ed., 1981]. But they should play music. It’s all news and information shit. It’s for the dogs. I mean, how much can you learn?

FFanzeen: Same syndrome on WPIX [WPIX-FM is now WFAN Sports Radio – RBF, 2015].

David: I guess that’s what the deal is.

FFanzeen: What music do you listen to at home?

David: I listen to the soundtrack from  Rockers a lot; that’s one of my favorites. And I got this tape of, like, rhythm and blues singers from 1952. They got Roy Brown [d. 1981 – RBF, 2015] on it and wild things like that. You ever hear a song called “Butcher Pete”? 

FFanzeen: No.

David: Well, we might do it. You’ll hear it if we do it, but I don’t know if we could do it ‘cause it’s really an outrageous song. I don’t know if people will get the right idea if I sing it. It’s a great song. It’s the most outrageous rock’n’roll song I ever heard anyway.
[Enter Blondie Chaplin]

FFanzeen: Does he know “Butcher Pete”?

David: Sure he knows it. Hey, Blondie, how about “Butcher Pete”?
Blondie Chaplin: He’s still hackin’, whackin’, and smackin’ his meat. (laughs)

FFanzeen: Have you seen the Four Tops now that that they’re back on the club circuit?

David: No, but I’d love to.

FFanzeen: Have you ever seen ‘em?

David: Not lately; ‘bout ’65 or ’66.

FFanzeen: I feel you bear many similarities to Levi Stubbs [d. 2008 – RBF, 2015] – vocally.

David: Well, Levi Stubbs and Gary U.S. Bonds were some of the first guys who made me want to sing. You know, I heard “Seven Day Weekend” by Gary U.S. Bonds and I just wanted to sing after that, because I could sing like that and I finally found a singer that sang like me, in the same area of tone that I sing in, so it gave me some kind of –

FFanzeen: – Point of reference?

David: Yeah.

FFanzeen: How come you dropped almost all the songs from In Style from your show?

David: Well, we do “Wreckless [Crazy]” and “Melody.” What others do you think we should do?

FFanzeen: “She”? “In Style”? “Flamingo Road”?

David: “Flamingo Road”? No way!

FFanzeen: Yeah, well, you said you took that out of the show because it was too cold. Do you want to make it a more “upbeat” show?

David: Well, at the moment and by the time this magazine comes out, I may have a whole other thing going on. But at the moment, I’m just having fun doing the set I’m doing now. I wanna try new songs and see if people like them. We’re adding songs and dropping songs. I think as far as the old songs we do, I think they’re the favorites of the people.



Mick Jagger in his "Funky But Chic" tee in 1979

FFanzeen: Even in interviews and all, it seems like In Style is being pushed back like it doesn’t hold up with the rest of your catalog.

David: By who, the press or me?

FFanzeen: By you.

David: Well, what do I do when the first LP? “Frenchette,” “Funky [But Chic],” “Cool Metro” – “Girls” – so I do four from the first LP. Maybe I’ll do “She” for you the next time, but I don’t think I’ll do “In Style”; it’s too moody. I wanna rock, you know?

FFanzeen: Well, I always like you because you could balance rockers with a lot of moody pieces, too.

David: “Well, “Marquesa de Sade” is kinda moody, right? “Frenchette” is moody in the beginning. And we’re gonna do “Heart of Gold” [the latest LP’s closing confessional – AE, 1981], you know? I’m trying to learn Elliot’s (Murphy) harmonica solo; it’s difficult to me.

FFanzeen: Do you think you’ll ever lose the Jagger comparisons? For instance, even your recent Daily News write-up called you “Jaggeresque” in the headline.

David: I think he said that because he’s a virgin, you know what I mean? Like the first time someone’s ever seen me they usually say that, but then they don’t say it after that. I mean, it’s just kind of a chintzy way to describe somebody. Like to say he’s like Lee Marvin or Peter Noone, or he’s like David Eisenhower, because you haven’t got the vocabulary or the information to describe something originally. There’s certain similarities so he can say that, but it’s not saying much. It doesn’t describe much of me. Maybe a tenth of me.

FFanzeen: Did you know that in the Stones’ ’79 Toronto concert, Jagger wore a “Funky But Chic” t-shirt?

David: No, I didn’t know that. Maybe I heard it and I forgot.

 

 

 

 

DVD Review: New York Dolls: Lookin’ Fine on Television

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

New York Dolls: Lookin’ Fine on Television
Directed by Nadya and Bob Gruen
MVD Visual, 2011
70 minutes, USD $14.95
MVDvisual.com
The opening shot of this documentary / concert mash-up is of the whole band (early drummer Jerry Nolan era) sitting on a hill in a park (Central? Flushing Meadow?), and lead guitarist Johnny Thunders – long hair aflowin’ with that wisp on top – starts talking about how the band got together by his first meeting bassist Arthur “Killer” Kane, to which vocalist David Johansen gives a snide “That’s not how we started…” As Thunders flicks a ciggy-butt at him, rhythm guitarist Sylvain Sylvain starts in with his own interpretation to the story. Through their thick outer borough accents (Queens, Staten Island, etc.), this complete practice in ridiculousness is the perfect way to start this documentary about arguably (pun intended) one of the most important bands to come out of the New York area in the first half of the ‘70s.

The New York Dolls were tempestuous at best, wasted at worst, and brought something new to the rock and roll table. A mixture of glam, rock, and their own personalities in both style and playing, they are (rightfully) considered influential to nearly every band that came after them, whether directly or indirectly (i.e., influencing bands that influenced others).

As with the ill-fated Sex Pistols tour of the States, noted scene photographer Bob Gruen was along for the New York Dolls’ career ride as they started hitting their stride (just after the passing of drummer Billy Murcia, who is mentioned often in talking head moments, but never seen), as was Nadya Beck, the two directors and cinematographers of this release.

Over the period of a few short years, Gruen and Beck filmed (remember, this is pre-video) the band in performance a number of times on either (or both) 16mm or 8mm. Because of this, we now have a historical document of not only their two official albums of the period (New York Dolls; Too Much, Too Soon), but what they were like in performance as well.

Rather than just showing one version of a set or another, Gruen and Beck took a single live track, and overplays it with footage from a number of shows all cut up together, doing a masterful job of lining up the music with the action, including Johansen’s vocals. By doing this, we have a new soundtrack to our lives (i.e., NYD fans, who are now legion). Plus, we get to see the boys in action with both the consistency of their moves (e.g., clapping above their heads during “Jet Boy”), as well as the originality of others (e.g., standing in different spots). It’s also interesting to compare them then to the newer, reconstituted version of the band of the twenty-first century. Johansen still has the chops, but he’s physically not as limber (and yet is still a joy to watch).

Even for their infamous appearance on the Old Grey Whistle Test programme in the UK, rather than the usual footage that can be seen elsewhere, we get to see it from the side stage through Gruen’s eye.

Between each of the songs (see the list below), there is an interview segment; well, actually it is a few segments that are cut up and put between numbers. Some are of the group, such as the opening salvo, and others include a solo with Johansen (interviewed by Lisa Robinson) in what looks like possibly south Florida or sunny California, where he talks about things like how he makes up the lyrics to “Who Are the Mystery Girls?” each time, riots at shows, and dealing with connected club owners.

Also spiced into the songs are backstage shots of the band, including the girlfriends (Cyrinda! Michelle!), them doing their infamous gangster dress-up, and traveling to California. Also, there’s a clip of Johansen and Dorothy inviting the viewing audience to their Halloween show, followed by both shots of them preparing, and the NBC news report by Tony Hernandez!

In one show, Arthur Kane is shown standing beside the drums, sometimes with Nolan’s girlfriend Michelle, singing along to the songs, but not playing. According to producer/Dictator extraordinaire Andy Shernoff and Austin musician Thom Tex Edwards, it was roadie Peter Jordan, filling in while Arthur’s arm was in a cast.

So, lots of music, some fun stuff mixed in-between, and a document of an amazing band in their prime.

For the extra, there’s an 8-minute clip from 1976 of David Johansen standing outside CBGBs interviewing Lisa Robinson (not the other way around, as it says on the box), completely dissing the club. Then along comes ex-Dolls (by then) member Johnny Thunders who crashes in, giving Lisa an out, and JT and David Jo have a fun time sparing with each other, raising topics like the Heartbreakers, Tom Petty’s appropriation of the name (I had the argument with Petty directly in 1976), and discussing the ‘Breakers upcoming tour in the UK with the Sex Pistols and the Damned (where Nancy Spungeon would show up and…).

Get this. You know Morrissey will…

Tracks:
Lookin’ For a Kiss
Babylon
Trash
Bad Detective
Vietnamese Baby
Bad Girl
Chatterbox
Human Being
Private World
Subway Train
Personality Crisis
Frankenstein
Who Are the Mystery Girls?
Jet Boy

Club Flyers and Invites from 1970s and 1980s: Part 2

Text (c) Robert Barry Francos, 2011
Images are owned by the artists
Also, images can be enlarged by clicking on them.

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

The Rattlers were a fun band. They first time I saw them was with Lester Bangs fronting them as Birdland (My Father's Place, opening for the Ramones). When Bang separated and the new trio retitled themselves, it was a 100% improvement, and Mickey and David produced some great sounds. By the time the photo for the show below was taken, David had left to form a weird synth band (Ships, I believe it was called), and the Rattlers became a foursome. I had only seen them as a trio, but I bet their sound was solid.

I've seen the Dolls in both incarnations ('70s; '00s), but other than his regular stints on Saturday Night Live, I had not had the pleasure to witness David Johanson's Buster Poindexter incarnation (nor his Harry Winston). After the disco-y "Have You Heard the News," I found this refreshing. Sacrilege?



Along with being one of the first to ever interview the Fleshtones, I've been a fan since the first time I saw them. It was rare that a recording of them, which are all great in their own right, could hold a candle to them live, though. They were kinetic in a way that was catching. If you get the chance, read Joe Bonomo's history of the band, SWEAT, by all means do so.

Brenda Bergman was a gutsy, blusey singer in the 1980s who often appeared with another favorite of mine, Get Wet. Just down the block from the imposing Limelight, s.n.a.f.u. was a ideal place to see these bands play. I probably saw BB about a half dozen times back then.

Mr. Homosapien left the Buzzcocks and made a name for himself as a solo, though perhaps not that much, as the Buzzcocks reformed after a few year-split. I found his material from this period a bit too electronic for my tastes.

I remember powerpop band the Poppees playing a bill with the Marbles at a Rock Ages convention, among other great gigs such as this one. Back in the '70s, not only was New York the origin of punk (yes, NYC was), but there was also a huge powerpop scene that was just as cutting edge, but ended up not making it into the 1980s to make a dent, having been drowned out by New Wave disco-laden groups like Blondie.

From LA, this was part of one of their first tours.

New York's only all-Chinese hardcore band, they made a bit of a notch for themselves locally and put out a bunch of singles. I never saw them play, but had met them a number of times at other gigs, and they came across as nice guys.

While I didn't necessarily agree with her politics, as a person there was no one like Helen Wheels (RIP). She was a tough, muscular, diminutive woman who liked to play with knifes onstage, hung out with bikers, and lived her life at the moment. And yet, she was one of the cheeriest, sweetest people I knew. When I interviewed her before she opened for Iggy Pop at the Brooklyn Zoo, I was nervous, but quickly fell under her charm. While never a metalhead, I went out of my way to see her band play (once at a performance at FIT, where they freaked out that she tossed a switchblade into the stage, one of her bits).

I was lucky to have seen Salem 66 a number of times, in their home town of Boston (Harvard), New Jersey (Maxwell's), and various places around New York. They were quirky in a way that seemed to have been a trend in Beantown (Pixies, Christmas, etc.), much as No Wave as mostly in New York. They were a fun band to both hear and watch.

DVD Review: The Electric Chair

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

The Electric Chair
Written, produced and directed by Mark Eisenstein
Wild Eye, 1985 / (rereleased) 2010
105 minutes, USD $16.95
Wildeyereleasing.com
MVDvisual.com

Whether Mark (Marcus) Eisenstein’s work could be put into the transgressive film category is borderline, but he does have an aggressive style that has a large dose of religion (mostly Jewish), confrontation, and imagery.

His The Electric Chair, from 1985, has long (well, for 25 years) been considered a piece of “lost cinema,” directed by this film professor from Jersey City State College. Fortunately, Wild Eye Productions has not only seen fit to release this piece of unorthodox cinema, but has also added in a whole bunch of Eisenstein’s shorter pieces as extras, along with some trailers and a track commentary. But more of that later.

Written originally as a play that was mounted but once, Eisenstein (okay from now on I’m just referring to him as ME…deal with it) decided to make a film out of it, and offered the lead role to Harvey Keitel, who actually wanted to direct it as well. ME was all for it, but due to prior commitments, Keitel backed out and offered up his pal Victor Argo in the lead. Yes, the heavily Jewish role was handed to an actor of Puerto Rican heritage, who just nailed the role perfectly. There is a lot of dialog in long bursts, and being trained as a stage actor, Argo was more than up for the part. After filming for no pay, the film sat in the can in minimally edited form for years, even after Argo’s death in 2004.

Though filmed in the ‘80s, ME finally finished the black and white film by editing in some footage he took of decrepit buildings on Block Island in the Long Island Sound (or would that be considered the Atlantic?) in 1971, in splashes throughout the narrative, effectively adding a layer of mood to the zeitgeist of the story.

The basic premise of the plot is centered around a shoe salesman, Arnie Schwartz, a lonely man whose marriage is grown as tired as he is, and who spends nights doing a stand-up comedy and music show at a local bar in New Jersey (where most of ME’s films are located). An electric chair appears on the stage as he is bombing, and in front of an audience that represents his whole life, he is warned not to achieve several levels of intimacy with the object.

As the gig does on, the comedy act turns into a rant about the philosophy of comedy, and bit by bit focuses in on his life, God, and schtupping, which uses up most of the film. It takes a strong actor to be able to portray this level of anger and still remain somewhat sympathetic (though in the commentary, ME states that he was not going for sympathy, just the anger), if not pathetic. In front of his mother, himself as a young man dominated by her, his kid sister, a sax playing rabbi, a couple engaged in their own intimacy, and others, Arnie rails right to the climax, which comes as no surprise. However, it is the last shot of the film that I found the most effective and unnerving.

The time goes quickly, and Argo is more than up for the task of possibly his only starring role in his long career. Keitel would also have done well, but Argo brings some depth to his emotions, and can punch out the lengthy gunfire dialog, while in close-up, without ever making it redundant or boring. It’s hard to turn away as he gives his all, which is even more impressive considering, as I said, he wasn’t even paid for it. That’s dedication to a craft.

The images of the super 16mm film (except for the Block Island footage, which is a grainy 16mm) is exceptionally sharp, giving a near German Expressionist pastiche, with high contrasts and an occasional glow, with Argo’s white suit against a black background. It’s the facial close-ups where the shadows are the most effective. My only qualm is the editing, sometimes a bit too sharp and jarring, or perhaps that was the meaning (the other Eisenstein filmmaker, Sergei, was famously noted for proclaiming that “editing is motion”).

This is definitely not a date movie, nor is it a backdrop film. It needs special care and attention from the viewer to see the slow build-up to the finale, and all the subtlety in-between as the tone of the film changes.

The commentary was interesting all the way through, though I felt like I wanted a second one. ME is paired up with indie filmmaker Peter Crocker (I may have this name wrong) and Rob Hauschild of Wild Eye Productions; Crocker is an “expert” on the film, and runs off with the conversation a number of times I just wanted to say “shut-up, this isn’t your film” more than once. A lot of technical questions are discussed about the film, the “hardware” as it were (pre-production, production, and post-production), but not enough, I feel, on the “software” (plot, meaning, intentions). I would have like more insight on what ME was trying to “say,” and at key moments, such as the ending, I thought, “why are you talking about that instead of what’s on the screen?” Don’t get me wrong, the commentary is full of fascinating facts, it just left me wanting more than it offered.

The shorts by ME that are included, and there are several of them, run from the “mini-feature” of “The Roach,” which lasts more than 20 minutes, to a couple that are just a few minutes.

“The Roach” is an interesting set piece of a waterbug that suddenly becomes human, but still scuttles about, played well by 20-something hipster type Eric Mednis. He has no dialog, and flops around when he’s on his back. The Roach is as confused about the human world as it is about him. He keeps following a profane exterminator named Mr. Acme, played by Nick Taylor, and is nearly seduced by a lonely woman (Joan Moossy, who is in many of ME’s productions), before the film ends, Nero-and-Poppaea -style. The film is simple and smart, and obviously a reversal of Kafka’s infamous “The Metamorphosis,” and is one of his few works here in color.

Some of the shorts are extremely esoteric, such as “The Smog” (1967; 6.5 min.), where people are filmed talking in a smog while their voices are re-recorded; “Eight Tragedy Term Papers Plus Three by Maggie Murphy” (1967; 15 min.) in which a real-life poetic term paper by a student who passed away is read by ME as a typewriter types out newswire stories; and in “Mark Eisenstein: Inventor of the Frame” (1982, 1.5 min.), the director explains how he “invented” the frame for cinema (before, supposedly no one knew where to look). There are a couple of others of varying success, but interesting to help put The Electric Chair into a larger picture of Eisenstein’s process.

There are also some trailers put out by Wild Eye Productions, though there is also one for an unreleased Eisenstein film called “God Is On Their Side,” an (I am assuming) allegorical tale of trying to get God on one side or another during a war, while all he wants to do is sing, dance, and smoke cigars. Why am I so interested in this? Simply because God is played by (and credited to) Buster Poindexter, also known as New York Dolls’ vocalist and Staten Island’s own David Johansen.


Bonus video:

GOD IS ON THE OTHER SIDE - rare UNRELEASED movie trailer - New York Dolls from Wild Eye Releasing on Vimeo.

THE NEW YORK DOLLS: Trash on the Dolls

Text by Alan Abramowitz as told by Michelle Piza; introduction by Alan Abramowitz
Introductory comment (italics) by Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet
© 1981, FFanzeen; introductory comments © 2010, RBF

The following was put together for FFanzeen No. 7 in 1981, by Alan Abramowitz, with memories by Michelle Piza, who was Jerry Nolan’s girlfriend throughout the New York Dolls years. The graphics that were used in the original piece was chock full of rare photos (such as Michelle and Jerry in Halloween costumes) and flyers. There is a picture of Michelle in a famous Vanity Fair magazine piece (on the right) where the caption reads, “an unidentified friend.” That was Michelle, folks. Each of the paragraphs represents a different memory. Yes, some of what is said is now well known thanks to numerous band biographies, but when this was published, it was pretty new to those who were not insiders. Personally, I wish Michelle would just write a memoir on those years, but that’s me. Michelle is an acquaintance of mine, and I am thankful to say that, as she has one of the best laughs I know. For a while during the ‘80s, she was doing interviews for Alan’s cable access show, Videowave.

I had the good fortune to see the Dolls twice: one at the opening night of the club On the Rocks in November 1976 (post-Johnny and Jerry), and once a special show at Tower Records when they reformed in 2006. – RBF

Alan Abramowitz introduction:
To this date, it is questionable who is the most influential band to today’s rock’n’roll / New Wave nee punk scene. Some say Iggy or Bowie or even the Beatles. Well, they were all influential to the New York Dolls, but what the Dolls have passed along has over-shadowed all that went before them. No, I’m not saying they are another Iggy or Bowie or even another Beatles; what I am saying is what they presented as their music was seven years ahead of their time, and what they represented just started to come into fashion in 1975.

They hit the tail end of the glitter era and tried in vain to latch on, hence their outrageous makeup on the cover of their first album, The New York Dolls. They joined the movement in its death-throngs and as it died, the Dolls slowly died with it. As a group. But as a force, the Dolls are more powerful now than when they were performing at Max’s, Club 82 or Mothers. What they represented was the fresh breath to the stale sound of 1971 rock’n’roll.

Much as been written over the years about the New York Dolls in almost every paper across the nation. To print it again may prove to be repetitious, but for those who weren’t around at that point of time, or have not read that information when it was around, it is a necessary, and yes, still vital story. An outlined history of the New York Dolls follows.

Michelle Piza:
Guitarist Sylvain Sylvain always wanted to be in a band called “the Dolls.” This was a dream / idea he had confided to his good friend, drummer Billy Mercier. Returning from a European vacation, Syl found that Billy had formed a band with bassist Arthur Kane and guitarist Johnny Thunders, and called themselves The New York Dolls. Syl joined and later came David Johansen as lead singer. They practiced in old store fronts and by playing Lower East Side loft parties. Later on came gigs at the Hotel Diplomat and the Mercer Arts Center, these two being places where they could practice their live act and gain a following.

An immense cult following grew and spread by word-of-mouth, and with extra help of mini-ads they placed in the Village Voice. At least an ad a week appeared in 1972 and attracted a curious audience who were looking for more than what was available at the time, such as concerts by heavy metal bands as the Grateful Dead, etc. This was a time of much stagnation and wide-open room for transition.

Being eye-catching and very fashion conscious was part of the Dolls’ mystique. It was also a vulnerable target for idle criticism and misconceived ideas about their sexual preferences. This was emphasized to some degree by the natural audience they were attracting and more strongly by the first album cover photo showing them in extreme hair and make-up styles. The cover was just an extension of their own campy style taken one step further, but solely created by make-up artists and hair-dressers on the assignment of the album cover shot. The idea was conceived, shot, and sold in one single session – and later confused the masses. They were actually believed to be “fags in drag.”

1973 saw the passing of Billy Mercier by accidental death by choking. By this time, having toured England, the band had developed the artful sophistication of live performing. Press coverage had become widespread. Taking time out to recoup and gain forces, they replaced Billy with drummer Jerry Nolan. Jerry had been a great fan of the band and possessed the natural rock’n’roll feel to fit in and accent the band. Getting back on track, they were soon to be coined the “Most popular unrecorded rock band” by nearly every rock’n’roll tabloid. They were also commonly termed “punks.”

In the song “Pills,” with the phrase “Give me a shot,” David Johansen pantomimed the act of giving himself an injection, spontaneously followed by the audience. In another crowd pleaser, “Great Big Kiss,” the Dolls parodied the Shangri-Las. David asked the question, “Gee, what color are her eyes?” and Johnny answered coyly, “I dunno, she’s always wearing shades” …”Well, how duz she dance?” “Close; very, very close.” … Then together they would sing, “When I see her in the street / My heart takes a leap / It’s gonna skip a beat / I’m gonna walk right up to her / And give her a great big kiss / Mmmmmwwaaa” (later, Johnny would incorporate the same song into the Heartbreakers, exchanging the questions with Walter Lure). David would throw a tremendous kiss and gays looking for a real life characterization of Corporal Klinger from M.A.S.H., in beard and full drag, could be seen throwing back kisses to David. [Note: there is a typo in the last sentence in the original article with some words obviously missing – RBF, 2010]

The first album was a moderate success, doing well among devout Dolls fans, but failing to attract more than a novel interest. At this early time, it could not make the crossover by bringing rock’n’roll to Top-Forty and win the MOR audience. As a result, they lost key momentum and most needed creative energy. Disappointed with the outcome of the album’s production by Todd Rundgren, they picked Shadow Morton to handle the second album [Too Much, Too Soon], thinking that his ‘50s background would save them. Unfortunately, it didn’t, and they were dropped by their label, Phonogram.

They were filmed by Ralph Bakshi with the intent to animate them into a rock’n’roll movie, but [instead] he went on to do Fritz the Cat, Wizards and American Pop.

The ‘50s and early ‘60s had a lot to do with influencing the Dolls’ music and fashion. Everything from Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran on up to the Shangri-Las were an inspiration. One of their main goals was to reflect the early rock’n’roll purity into the future, and somehow integrate all that came in-between for a modern individuality.

They were now packing the larger back room of the Mercer to capacity. Faithful fans were frenzied, knowing all the words to the songs, singing along with gestures mirrored back to the band with peak energy and enthusiasm. One art form nurturing another. The Dolls were campy, crazy, exciting and different, and the audience complimented their style. They were the ideal fantasy rock’n’roll band – dressed to kill and dying to play the night away. Their energy was at its peak at this point. David Bowie was known to have said the Dolls were his real life “Spiders from Mars.”

The Dolls, at the height of their stardom, attracted a cult of L.A. Lolitas (groupies) who frequented the Rodney Bingenheimer Club. The queen of the cult was sultry blonde Sable Starr, who, no more than 15 years old, set her sights on Johnny Thunders. Her fantasy was fulfilled when they landed in L.A., and she became Johnny’s girlfriend. This led to other problems, such as outrageous demands that she be flown to gigs on the spur of the moment anywhere in the world or he would not play, expensive airfare inconsequential. It was times like these Johnny was set straight by the famous left hook of drummer Jerry Nolan on mutual consent of the rest of the band.

On tour in a remote part of Europe, drug-induced strains at one point caused Johnny to imagine that there were “snipers out there.” A very creative man, and very demanding, his image on stage could well be jerky, but compared to the beautiful romp of a wild pony.

Each member actually had their unique style of dressing before ever becoming a band. For instance, Syl used to walk around Greenwich Village in make-up, sort of how he looked as a Doll; the clown-like pouty look, which was a fashion then. Johnny was always a flagrantly wild dresser and loved to use eyeliner and Keith Richard hairstyle. When they became a band, they shared the art of thrift shop hopping for a chic look at a reasonable price. They were also known to accessorize with charms, such as rabbit feet, dice, World War II memorabilia (i.e., swastikas), and ‘60s nostalgia. Leopard jersey stretch pants, plenty of spandex, pink, turquoise and red thick marshmallow belts, cowboy gear, motorcycle jackets, and wild color matches were also typical Dolls fashion.

The Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria was the setting for the Halloween Costume Ball, one of the Doll’s most memorable performances. The crowd was wild, being a cross between just wild and crazy-looking and total transvestite. Naked people in nothing but gold and silver skin paint, people in clear plastic or cellophane and anything you could fathom in feathers attended. It was the first and only rock performance of its kind to be held there. The management swore they would never hold another rock’n’roll event in the hotel.

At the Waldorf gig, the Dolls went on their customary three hours late, mostly because David took his time about getting into his white tie, top hat and tails. His light brown locks had to be perfectly coiffed before he could set foot on stage and the necessary socializing had to take place in the reserved suites the guys shared to dress and entertain their guests. They were introduced on stage by a little boy dressed in matching tails to David. The same little boy posed with them in the Gem Spa photo on the back of their first album cover. His name was Shoo Be Doo; he died soon after in a fire.

To see the Dolls live at one of their favorite places, like the Mercer Arts Center, Hotel Diplomat, or Max’s Kansas City, was much more than a trip to a club – it was an invitation to a party.

On their second European tour with Jerry Nolan, they acquired two dotting fans: Malcolm McLaren and cohort Vivian Westwood. These two were such wild dressers they hardly went unnoticed. They loved the Dolls and followed them to Paris. At a gig there, the crowd grew so wild and frenzied that fist fighting and vulgar spitting on them caused them to leave the stage before finishing the show. The roadies were left to fist-fight the audience.

Malcolm McLaren became the Dolls’ manager. By this time in 1976, Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan were tired of the Dolls. McLaren had given them a red leather / communist look. Again, the Dolls were misinterpreted, as they were when they were in drag. Arthur Kane, burnt out and an alcoholic, couldn’t play bass any longer. He was replaced by Peter Jordan, who was never considered a Doll. When Johnny and Jerry quit, Tony Machine filled in on drums. The band evolved into a David Johansen back-up, but he couldn’t hold it on his own without the multi-creative Johnny and Jerry behind him.

Great site: www.fromthearchives.com/nyd/chronology.html