PIGSHIT: Diary of a Loved One, 1982: Life in a Rock’n’Roll Band [1983]

Text by Gary Pig Gold / FFanzeen, 1983 / 2021
Images from the Internet

PIGSHIT: Diary of a Loved One, 1982: Life in a Rock’n’Roll Band

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #10, dated 1983. It was written by columnist Gary Pig Gold.

Gary is one of my favorite rock historian writers. I became familiar with him from his originally Mississauga, Ontario-based fanzine, The Pig Paper. His column and blog are still active after all these years. I’ve seen him play a few times, including with the Dave Rave Conspiracy and in the alt country Ghost Rockets, but unfortunately, never with the Loved Ones, who achieved cult status. Gary has lived in a few places both in the States and in Canada, and it’s important to know that he is a huge Beach Boys aficionado. – RBF, 2021

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gary_Pig_Gold
www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/gary-pig-gold 
 

Jan. 1: No New Year’s Eve party for The Loved Ones (to play at, either!), but was 1981 really worth ushering out, anyway?

Jan. 4: “Bubbles” (possibly not her real name), a gurl with a fake Australian accent I met at the Plimsouls’ Xmas party, calls to say she’d happily pose n-u-d-e for the Pig Paper. Time for my fanzine to go color/glossy/fold-out?

Jan. 16: I guess not. Pig Paper 14 covertly photocopied overnight in the Redondo Beach offices of American Container Corp., and if the Xeroxer hadn’t kept jamming up, I could’ve had this latest ish On the Streets of L.A. tomorrow morning!

Dennis Wilson and Gary Pig Gold

Jan. 25: Remember Gary Usher (“In My Room,” “Sacramento,” “How to Stuff a Wild Bikini” (et. al)? He was actually interested in producing The Loved Ones – till he discovered our publishing wasn’t up for grabs. “I’m not hungry anymore, y’know,” Gary [d. 1990] informs me today. Huh?

Feb. 7: Ronnie Furness, an old ex-Loved One, called all the way from Tahsis, British Columbia (big lumber town where he’s now employed) to confirm the rumors he’s heard that I’m not a coke addict. No, I’m not, even though I now live in Southern California. (I ate a slew of hash brownies once though, whilst watching Ride the Wild Surf on Channel 11…).

Feb. 11: My pal, Johnny Wonderful, of local Stray Cat copy-cat combo the Debonairs, calls to say yes – he can get an interview with the Blasters for Pig Paper 15.

Feb. 22: Murray the K dies and the Blasters sign to Warner Bros. Interview still on, however, sez Johnny.

Feb. 26: Tonight, Pig Productions was to present the Crowd’s gala Farewell Show at the Belmont Shores Lion Club, but a rival promoter (disguised as a not-so-mild-mannered reporter from the Cal State Long Beach newspaper) kindly informed the Powers That Be that the Crowd were, quote, “The West Coast’s most dreaded punk rock band.” Consequently, Pig Productions (along with 450 impatient ticket holders, not to mention the Crowd) arrive at the Lions club to find a sign reading Show Cancelled: Go Home! nailed across the doorway. Pig Productions immediately retires from the concert promotion business and changes its PO Box and phone numbers.

Issue 14

Mar. 3: After months of postal undercover work, I succeed in tracking down notorious pal o’ John’n’Yoko, David The Pope Smokes Dope Peel [d. 2017], yet he refuses to author a regular Pig Paper column.

Mar. 12: Desperate for a way to take their act on the road and get it together, The Loved Ones covertly set up their equipment in an empty second-storey classroom at nearby Cal State Long Beach, draw a crowd of three, open up all the windows, play a 14-minute set, and spend the remainder of the night in the campus jail. Blasters interview still on though, sez Johnny W.

Apr. 30: The Blasters’ manager, Celia, sends me a letter which reads, in part, “As for the Pig Paper 15 interview, frankly, I doubt it. The timing is not right. Like most Americans, the Blasters like to have some time just of relax.” Interview still on, however, insists Johnny.

May 5: I read somewhere that Gary Lewis and the Playboys recently reformed (who hasn’t?) and are recording a comeback LP (who isn’t?) so, ever the hit hunter, I visit their publisher with a cassette-full of my most rocked-up originals, versions of Goffin [d. 2014] and King (or at least Kooper and Russell) dancing in my head. “These originals aren’t rocked up enough,” the publisher quickly informs me as I’m shown the door, bus fare already in hand.

May 6: Undaunted, I begin writing and recording the latest Loved Ones demo-tape.

May 13: A gigantic Blasters interview is just published in the latest issue of L.A. Weekly magazine.

May 24: Lester Bangs dies and the Blasters leave for a European tour of indefinite length. Interview may not now occur, confesses Johnny not-so-Wonderful-anymore.

Jun. 19: Loved Ones demo-tape hand delivered to local “New Wave” station KNAC-FM. Airplay refused: “These songs aren’t rocked-up enough,” the program director quickly informs me as I’m shown the door, etc.

Jun. 20: Undaunted, I begin work remixing the Loved Ones’ demos. This time removing the Dolby noise reduction unit and boosting all levels well into the red.

Jul. 14: New and improved Loved Ones demo-tape hand-delivered to legendary Surf City face-about-town Rodney Bingenheimer, who quickly refuses to give it airplay on hiss legendary Pasadena radio show because, “This tape’s rocked-up too much.” Thoroughly daunted, I start becoming a coke addict.

Jul. 15: I find myself near Hollywood and Vine, attending two tapings of the Merv Griffin Show. I also find myself being forcibly ejected from the theater shortly thereafterwards, after heckling Moon Zappa as she lip-syncs to “Valley Girl.” This is particularly embarrassing as tonight’s guest host is my long-time idol, Dick Clark [d. 2012].

Jul. 20: My roommate moves out on me.

Jul. 21: My rent is raised.

Jul. 23: The Loved Ones play Our First Party Gig! and steal an amp from our opening act by way of payment.

Aug. 6: Veteran Pig Paper fan Greg Shaw [d. 2004] writes to say he luvs the Loved Ones’ demo-tape, even though, quote, “The songs sound too much like Gary Lewis and the Playboys.”

Aug. 8: Pig Picks to Click, 1982, No. 1: Saw a great band playing in the middle of the Seventh Street Recreational Park this afternoon – The Falling Idols. Remember: You Read It First in FFanzeen.

Aug. 14: The Loved Ones play Our Second Party Gig!, ‘way the way 100 miles south in San Diego. Between sets, I drive farther south to Tijuana, Mexico for dinner, and bring home a mucho case of food poisoning.

Aug. 24: The Loved Ones play Our First Club Gig!, opening for the Cat Burglars (the who?) at the Concert Factory (the what?) and earn Our First Paycheck! ($14).

Sep. 2: The Loved Ones play Our Second Club Gig! at the Concert Factory, opening for the Lucky Strikes (the who?) and The Jets (ditto) and earn Our Second Paycheck! ($14 in change).

Sep. 10: I begin work for The New Music Review in order to supplement my paychecks, and discover amongst my first pile of vinyl to review, Pig Picks to Click, 1982, No. 2: Six and Six and Later On, by the ultra-ESP Records-sounding Jandek (available from Corwood Industries, PO Box 15375, Houston, Texas 77020). Buy These Albums! [Ed. Note: That address is still viable, or you can contact Corwood online HERE – RBF, 2021.) 

Sept. 17: The Loved Ones play Our Third – and Biggest – Gig! to date: opening for the Suburban Lawns at the prestigious Radio City club. We are not paid but do not notice.

Sep. 30: A pretty gigantic Blasters interview is just published in the latest issue of Flipside magazine. I wonder whatever became of Johnny Wonderful?

Oct 7: The Concert Factory requests further Loved Ones bookings. Fearful of being thrust into too high of a tax bracket, I decline.

Oct. 21: I receive a letter from Robert Barry FFrancos, which reads, in part, “As far as your column goes, fer sher, send it along anytime. If you want, write something about “Life in a Rock’n’Roll Band” or some (Pig)Shit like that.”

Pigshit: DWIGHT TWILLEY [1985]

By Gary Pig Gold / FFanzeen, 1985

Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

This article/interview was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #5, dated 1985, by music Renaissance man, Gary Pig Gold.

If you grew up in the early punk movement anywhere around the Toronto / Mississauga / Hamilton (Ontario) hub, you knew who Gary Pig Gold was / is, and his fanzine, The Pig Paper. Gary is not only a writer, but also produces records and was/is a musician in such bands as The Loved Ones, Ghost Rockets, Dave Rave Conspiracy and most recently The Next Big Thing alongside his old pal from The Cheepskates, Shane Faubert. I have the pleasure to call him my friend, even though we don’t get the chance to hang out much lately, being 2000 miles apart.


Through the later years of FFanzeen, Gary had his own column called "Pigshit," which also ran in many other zines worldwide and still appears monthly online. I've long-stated that Gary is one of the better writers of rock history, especially about his own favorites such as the Beach boys, the Monkees, Paul Revere and the Raiders, and Elvis. His work at this moment appears alongside an all-star cast of musicians and movers in Harvey Kubernik's massive 1967: A Complete Rock Music History of the Summer of Love book from Sterling Publishing. Definitely check out more of his writing at https://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/gary-pig-gold . - Robert Barry Francos, 2017.

As much as we’d love to forever blot it from our ears, there was music being produced, released and even broadcast during the post-Creedence, pre-Ramones wasteland known today as the mid-1970s. Like many other now forms of pure pop, I filled those dreaded years backtracking thru pop’s past via the neighbourhood Kmart cut-out bins, and today sport an entire bedroom covered in milk crates full of albums ($1.90 or less!) with holes drilled thru the covers to show for my efforts… (Well, it was either that or spend circa ’71-’75 watching “Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert” and lining up for Who tickets…)

But suddenly one day, a song appeared which effectively jolted me out of my Delete Zone exile and hinted that perhaps, just perhaps, there was still intelligent life left in the music bizness: a hook-studded gem, which effortlessly rode up the charts atop a bedtrack cocky enough to spare it from a fate worse than Manilow (sorry ABBA). The song in question? “I’m On Fire,” by someone – or something- called The Dwight Twilley Band. Sure, I was a fan of the Hollies-Revisited strains of (The) Raspberries, not to mention the bozo-rock of the N.Y. Dolls, but Twilley’s ditty made an impression for reasons other than nostalgia or camp: it was the first evidence in godknowshowlong of that elusive creature known as The Perfect Hit Single. Imagine my jubilation when, after rushing to my local disc shop for the first time since the Raiders broke up, I discovered an entire album of Twilley in the racks – his classic debut LP Sincerely. Listening to this stunner today is akin to takin’ a crash-course in trends-to-come: the cheesy electropop of “Could Be Love,” the Edmunds-as-Spector lush of “You Were So Warm,” the mop-topped Rutle-rock of “Three Persons.” Even the suede-o crockabilly of “TV.” Could it be at all possible that the likes of Martin Rushent [d. 2011 – RBF], Nick Lowe, Dougie Fieger [of The Knack, d. 2010 - RBF] and Brian Setzer never heard and duly absorbed this record prior to launching their own assaults upon the Top 40? I sincerely doubt it.

Several years and one New Wave later (Dec. ’79 to be exact), I found myself in Southern California for my first of several hunts for the ghost of Brian Wilson. It was then and there that I chanced upon a surprise Twilley gig at the scenic Golden Bear club in scenic Huntington Beach (where, speaking of the ‘60s, Peter Tork was once employed as a dishwasher). By this point, Dwight had already lost one record company (Shelter, due to bankruptcy), one record contract (with Arista, due to the lackluster sales of his smash second album, Twilley Don’t Mind), and even one-half of his band (when his long-time cohort, Phil Seymour, buggered off for a short-lived career as Orange County’s answer to Shaun Cassidy). Not surprisingly, the show that night was a slick, bitter affair – it seemed Twilley spent most of his set screaming at the soundman for “more fuckin’ Elvis Sun Sessions reverb on my fuckin’ mike.” Afterwards, I crawled back to my motel room mightily disillusioned as Dwight spent the next several years slowly burying himself beneath the scrap heap of Next-Big-Things-From-L.A. alongside the likes of The Loved Ones (thanks for the plug, Robert Barry! – GPG 1985), 20/20 and The Plimsouls (whilst nurturing a quite unhealthy SCUBA diver fetish).

I was probably as shocked as Mr. Twilley himself when last summer, he released a bitchin’ new platter entitled Jungle, which came complete with a single smasheroo of even ultra-“I’m On Fire” proportions (the lethally-catchy “Girls”). And once again, as if on some sort of cosmic cue, I found myself in scenic Vancouver stumbling one night upon, in the far-from scenic Nite Lites club, another surprise Dwight Twilley gig! Bluffing myself onto the guest list as West Coast stringer for FFanzeen (“FFanzeen?” “Oh, yeah, it’s a very big mag back East – sorta like Circus…”) and bluffing my mini-recorder past the bouncer in true Rock ‘n’ Roll High School style (…“It’s a hearing aid, okay?”), I sat thru one of the most sweaty sets of sounds since Destroy All Monsters opened for The Young Fresh Fellows – with just the right amount of reverb on the mike! Afterwards, what else could I do but BS my way backstage (“FFanzeen?” “Yeah – it’s gonna take up where Trouser Press left off…”) to interview The Man Himself.

Dwight Twilley? Can I have a few words?

Oh… just a couple, okay? We’re on our way back to the room to watch some old Elvis videos…

I last saw you perform five years ago in California, and the improvement since then seems practically incomprehensible!

Well, we’re touring more nowadays, and I’ve got a better band nowadays. Plus, back then, I could never get enough reverb on the mike.

Yes, I know. Also, “Girls” I think is your strongest song in ages. However… I can’t help but detect the ghost of Brian Wilson running through it.

Oh? How’s that?

The riff in “Girls” sounds exactly like the riff in “Dance, Dance, Dance”!

Yeah? Well, I think The Beach Boys suck!

Hmm… Who do you think you’ve been influenced by?

Elvis.

Uh-huh. And who else?

Scotty and Bill.

Elvis’ guitarist and bass player?

You bet.

Who else besides Elvis do you admire musically?

(Extended silent pause)

I see.

What magazine’d you say this was for?

FFanzeen

(Blank stare)

It’s sort of like the vintage old New York Rocker was back in its heyday. You remember New York Rocker, don’t you?

Nope.

Anyways… Whatever became of your old partner, Phil Seymour?

Not a hell of a lot! (Laughs) I think the only time he works now is when I let him sing a spot or two on my records. Phil missed his calling, you see, when ABC refused to cast him alongside Parker Stevenson in “The Hardy Boys” TV series. I’m afraid it’s been all downhill for ol’ Phil ever since.

Your band seems to be getting along real fine without him.

Yeah… but something’s lacking in our rhythm section, I think.

Who would be your ideal drummer then?

D.J. Fontana.

Elvis’ drummer.

You bet.

Not to change the subject any, but who would you consider to be your idea girl?

Hmm… Probably a cross between Natalie Wood and Ann-Margret. [PIGOSSIP #1: Dwight is actually married to none other than Susie Cowsill – she of “Indian Lake” and “The Rain, The Park and Other Things” fame – GPG, 1985]

How about your favorite food?

Hey! What is this? I thought you were from Fan Scene [sic – 1985], not Tiger Beat! Uhh… favorite food… Fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. And cheeseburgers – double cheeseburgers – on the road.

What’s the one song you’re most proud of?

Oh… “Don’t Be Cruel.”

No, no… I mean of your own!

Well, that’s a pretty tough one… I’d like to think Scuba Divers is my strongest album overall, as well as being my all-time poorest seller (smirk). You see, each of my records has its own set of circumstances and stories… and lawsuits… and nervous disorders… behind it. I mean, if it’s true that artistes create best under bleak and difficult conditions, then I should’ve had fifty Number One albums out by now! But, uhh, if I had to pick one single favorite song, I guess it would have to be “10,000 American Scuba Divers Dancin’.” How about you?

Without a doubt, my favorite would still have to be “I’m On Fire.”

What? You mean you don’t like Elvis?!!

Vanity Plate No. 6: Interviewed by Gary Pig Gold for various blogs

Text © Gary Pig Gold
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015

I was friends with Gary Pig Gold way before I actually met him. He had his Pig Paper fanzine out of Mississauga and Hamilton that started in 1973, and I had my ‘zine, whose first date was 7/7/77. We quickly started exchanging ‘zines and stories. He published some of my articles, and I had his highly regarded “Pigshit” column in mine.

A part of the indie music history most people don’t know is that when I received copies of albums by the cult Texan musician Jandek, they came in twos, so I sent a bunch of the doubles off to Gary. In turn, Gary (who enjoyed them way more than I did, honestly) lent them to a radio DJ named Bruce “Mole” Mowat (also now a friend), who played them on the air, creating a Canadian tidal wave of fans.

Gary is also a phenomenal musician, as well as studio engineer, and I had a chance to see him play a couple of times in New York: once in the Country/Beach Boys themed Ghost Rockets, and another when he performed with The Cheepskates’ Shane Faubert, who backed up the legendary Dave Rave DesRoches at an International Pop Overthrow show in 2007 (HERE).

An internationally known rock historian with his writing appearing in many blogs Gary interviewed me via email and this one showed up in a number of them around 2008. It is part of a series of "Eight Questions" Gary did over the years. 


Check out Gary's site at:  https://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/gary-pig-gold  – RBF, 2015

 

Gary Pig Gold Has Eight Questions for Robert Barry Francos
By Gary Pig Gold

Robert first walked into CBGBs circa Spring of 1975 with the Good / Mystic Eyes founder Bernie Kugel, a high school chum, to watch (along with about a dozen other prescient folk) Talking Heads open for the Ramones. Now since Bernie and he were so straight-edged they went for the music rather than the imbibing (nursing a single beer though a twelve-hour show, much to the chagrin and ire of a certain CBGB's waitress) they were able to peruse the scene from an almost objective, outside view. Consequently, RBF tried to write about his tastes and musical preferences for various college papers, but they wouldn't hear of it (being much too disco and Billy Joel-focused). So in the ultra-DIY Spirit of '76 he just started his own fanzine, which he called FFanzeen. Why? As the man himself says, "I figured to name the publication after its very genre, so I chose Fanzine. But Bernie Kugel suggested that I call it Francos Fanzine. While I thought that was too egotistical, I did like the double-F at the beginning, since FF is the sign for fortissimo, or "faster and louder." Then another friend, Alan Abramowitz, who produces a cable access show, suggested I change the spelling of the end part, a la Monkees, Byrds, So FFanzeen was born." See? Simple! It ran a wonderful run from 1977 to 1988. Throughout that entire period, Robert also took many photographs of many good bands, and continues to do so, plus since FFanzeen's demise Robert's continued to work the pen for such over the counter fanzines as Shredding Paper and Oculus. That didn't stop him, however, from revealing to us all today--

1. "Munsters" or "Addams Family": Which one's for you, and Why?

Tough choice, but in the long run, I'd have to go for the Munsters because they had The Standells on the show once. In fact, that whole episode, with the Beat poetry, was a gasser.

2. Who in the world, living or dead, would you most like to play a game of "Twister" with?

Easy. Either 1963-67 Ann-Margret, or 1966-70 Pamela Franklin (how's that for opposites?)

3. How many Sid King & The Five Strings records do you own?

None. But I have this great EP (7-inch, 33-1/3 rpm) of a doctor describing problems of the heart, with sound effects. Picked it up at a Sally Ann (no one in the US of A seems to know what Sally Ann means). In pride, I went to Buffalo, took it with me, and played it for Bernie Kugel. He reached over and pulled out a sister EP with respiratory problems. Who knew there was a series?

4. If you had been working the front gate at The Dakota that night back in 1980 when nasty Mark David Chapman showed up, pistol in hand, to avenge the Chief Beatle for his "Bigger than Jesus" wisecrack, what would you have done?

Well, let me start off by stating that Mark David Chapman and I were born on the same day. Not just the same date, but the same day, May 10, 1955. Of course, on December 8 (also, my brother's birthday) 1980, I would not have known that fact, so after rumination about it, I've come to an answer:

Being a native New Yorker, used to many weird and strange things, I honestly think I would have shat my pants.

5. "Ginger" or "Mary-Ann": Which one's for you, and for How Long?

Easy. Definitely Mary-Ann. Not only is Dawn Wells a cutie, but she STAYED a cutie. Tina Louise is too testy. Got to see Dawn Wells in a dinner theatre production of a Neil Simon play in Calgary.

My spouse even bought me tickets for my birthday!

6. What single song, living or dead, do you most wish you'd written-- and Why Didn't You?

The song would probably change, or I'd want it piece-meal. I love the keyboard on Del Shannon's "Runaway." Then there's almost any early Simon & Garfunkel (yes, the secret is out, I'm a S&G fan). But then there's most of Ellie Greenwich's catalog (best American pop songwriter, bar none). Then there's some stuff by a Winnipeg native named James Keeleghan whose songs can make me cry. Etc.

And the reason I haven't is simple: I'm not talented -- that way.

7. Whose guitar kit would you most like to be reincarnated as?

See number 2.

8. In 2000 words or less, Your Hopes, Aspirations and Goals, musical and otherwise, for your life and your country?

Not to have to listen to any more disco, techno, rap (as a wise Canadian I know once said, "Remember, rap is three-quarters of the word crap"), hip-hop, boy-band, Britney-Christina-Pink-Eve-etc., etc.

Waiting for the Diodes: A Pig Paper Reprint from 1978

Image copied with permission from the Pig Paper, printed in Mississauga, Ontario, 1978.

Though I remember the incident well, I had forgotten I'd even written this until the publisher and pal, Gary Pig Gold, reminded me by sending me this image of a page of his excellent fanzine, The Pig Paper No. 8. Here is the Internet Archive's description of that issue:

Issue 8 of the Pig Paper came out in April 1978 and featured pieces on Elvis Costello, the Viletones, The Forgotten Rebels, The Dishes, Teenage Head, the Diodes, a show review of the Runaways and the Heartbreakers, some photos of Elvis Costello, Mickey Skin, Margeretta Passion, Frankie Venom, Carole Pope, Robert Gordon, and loads of gossip.

Free reprints of the entire fanzine's releases can be found here:
http://archive.org/details/ThePigPaper08
www.garypiggold.com

The page can be made bigger (and is easier to read) by clicking on it.

 

RANK & FILE: Not a Common Band

Text by Gary Pig Gold, 1983 

Brief intro by Robert Barry Francos, 2011 © FFanzeen 

 Images from the Internet 

 The closest I ever came to seeing Rank and File live was on a punk-related Rock Palace television program, sharing the bill with the likes of the Circle Jerks. They did two amazing songs, “Amanda Ruth” and “Hot Wind” (which I still have on VHS somewhere, and I that have attached below). My pal, Steve Adams, who colleged in Austin, used to go see the band during its heyday, and remains a fan.  

According to Wikipedia, after the break-up of R&F, Chip and Tony Kinman started the drum-machine-based synthpop band Blackbird, and Alejandro Escovedo joined with his brother Javier to form True Believers, before going solo. But recently Rank and File have reformed and toured, so who knows what’s next. PS, I love Gary’s Canadiana take on this, including calling mac’’n’ cheese “Kraft Dinner,” and uncertainty about the Mason-Dixon line: north of it was mostly Slave free, south of it had slavery, starting on the north Virginia state line, and running east to west; it was “dismantled” after the Civil War, though I’m guessing Gary must know that all these years later. 

 Note that despite my teasing, Gary is truly among my favorite rock writers, and has been since the days of his own fanzine, The Pig Paper (all issues of which can be found online here: https://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/gary-pig-gold )… – RBF, 2011 .

“They sound like a cross between Buck Owens and the Ramones!” ”Watching Chip Kinman on stage is just like watching Gary Busey in The Buddy Holly Story.” “I have a funny feeling I’m witnessing the birth of something amazing.” Oh, my God!” On Saturday, April 2, 1983, Rank and File brought heir unique interpretation of The American Sound to the ratty Radio City club, deep within the bowels of the bed-washbasin-and-surfboard suburb of L.A. known as Anaheim, California (right down the road from Disneyland!). Quoted verbatim above are but four of the many observations I solicited from the preppies, punkies, and poseurs of all persuasions who stood spellbound as Rank and File recreated – in fact, incarnated – their groundbreaking Sundown LP atop the creaky Radio City stage. By the end of their 45-minute set, as the audience’s bewilderment had graduated form half-hearted slam-dancing to sub-Hee Haw-style hoots ‘n’ hollers, I couldn’t help but imagine that this must’ve been just like it would have been to see Elvis, Scotty and Bill playing around the Memphis trucker bars and parking lots 30 years ago! Hell – maybe we are witnessing The Birth of Something Amazing. ”We had to do a lot of growing up in order to get where we are today…” – Chip Kinman: guitar, vocals, harmonica and Buddy Busey imitations. ”…and play what we are today.” – Tony Kinman: vocals and authentic Bonanza headwear. ”…and I’m just the drummer.” – Slim Evans: just drums. ”I agree.” – Alejandro Escovedo: guitar, vocals, and grinning Spanish teen appeal. To make a sob story short, the Kinman brothers woke up one day near San Francisco during the Summer of Hate to find themselves, as one half of the infamous Dils, bonafide yet reluctant stars of the local blank generation. Much soul-searching ensued, which quickly lead to (as is vividly recounted on Sundown’s strongest cut, “I Went Walking”) the break-up of the Dils, a sabbatical to NYC’s St. Mark’s Place, a damnation of the their NeWave era in general, and ultimately, a pilgrimage to the Deep South to bask in the comparatively calming sounds and smells of the Great American Heartland. To this day, they call Austin, Texas “home.” Suddenly, Chip and Tony had traded in their trendy Sears Silvertones for authentic Fender gear, unearthed in Slim Evans one of the finest skinmen this side of D.J. Fontana, sent for their old Bay Area sidekick Alejandro to round out the quartet, and faster than you can say Get Rhythm!, this renegade combo were tearing up every truckstop, lounge, and even punk palace south of the Mason-Dixon line. (Which reminds me: where in hell is the Mason-Dixon line anyways?) Like the good ol’ boys they now were, they lived on Lone Star Beer and Kraft Dinner ‘til they had enough saved up to buy a station wagon with which to return west to the Promised Land where, during the fall of ’82, they blew a much-needed breath of fresh prairie air into the spandex’d El Lay music scene. Soon, our heroes found themselves back in ‘Frisco, laying down tracks for their first Slash Records album – an LP, which no less than Robert Hillburn, the West Coast’s very own Robert Christgau, proclaimed as “one of the strongest American debut records in a decade.” In fact, Mr. Hillburn found himself so totally enamored with Sundown that he had 10 copies send air express! to the Man in Black hisself, Johnny Cash, and then urged his VIP pals at Warner Bros. that they’d better pick up this platter, fast, if they knew what was good for ‘em. As a result, you can now find Rank and File proudly displayed in your local discery, right alongside the new Duran Duran… or George Jones… or Journey… And herein we arrive at the primary dilemma which could very well prevent Rank and File from claiming their rightful place atop several of Billboard’s Hot Hit charts: just what is Rank and File? Country? Pop? New Wave? Mockabilly? Well, I for one chose (e) All of the Above, coz in Sundown, I can hear at any given moment the twang of a Link Wray, the hooks of a Goffin-King, the lyrical wit of a Nick Lowe, and the harmonies of the brothers Louvin and Everly. Yet the blend is far from nostalgic or regurgitent: the Kinman’s compositions sound somehow Fresh, New, Current, and Vital. Just like that other great American rock phenomenon, Creedence Clearwater Revival sounded a dozen years ago, remember? But unlike the Hey!days of CCR, U.S. radio today just isn’t as ignorantly open to the fresh, new, current or vital – sure, “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” went Top Ten, but only by initial packaging it in a blank sleeve, if y’know what I mean. Consequently, I often find myself awakening at 3 a.m. in a cold sweat, fearful that Rank and File’s potential as Divine Saviors of U.S. Music (sorry folks – I’m on my soapbox again) might be irreversibly nixed in the bud. Jesus Christ! These guys could fuckin’ revolutionize what we now blindly accept as C&W; they could be the Sex Pistols to the Kenny Rogers and Barbara Mandrells who now effortlessly and offensively rule the majority of this nation’s jukeboxes, airwaves, and music award ballots. Given half a chance, Sundown could shake things up one helluva lot more than an entire army of Dils ever could! Okay – I worry about such things. Maybe you do too. But does Tony Kinman? “Nah,” he informed me between rounds at the Radio City bar. “Every band me ‘n Chip have been in has, uh, Made It to some extent. But, you know – so what? The success part of things is really outta our hands for the most part. It’s managers and record companies who have to worry about that stuff. And the people out there really decide in the long run how big a band can be, and for how long.” But Holy Cow, Tony! Doesn’t it bug you guys that if it wasn’t for the Casey Kasems and the Kal Rudmans of the world, Rank and File could very well be that exclusive Next Big Thing we’ve all be waiting breathlessly for?!!, I scream out. Tony’s long, low, all-knowing laugh is my only reply. But it’s his alter-ego, Chip, who leaves me with this final, all-encompassing, concluding profundity before leaping back on stage for the second set: “Success? All I care about is what key we’re gonna do ‘White Lightening’ in tonight!” And There You Have It: the saga of a relatively new band busy brewing right under your very noses. Looking for musical kicks in the ‘Eighties? No need to shop overseas amongst the latest mascara’d synthepoppers: Buy American. Support Rank and File. And who know? We may never have to listen to the Gatlin Brothers Ever Again!

Book Review: “Treat Me Like Dirt: An Oral History of Punk in Toronto and Beyond, 1977-88”, by Liz Worth

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images are alphabetical, and from the Internet
Text previously published at jerseybeat.com

Treat Me Like Dirt: An Oral History of Punk in Toronto and Beyond, 1977-88
By Liz Worth; Edited by Gary Pig Gold
Bongo Beat Books (Montreal), 2009
383 pages
ISBN: 978-0-9813694-0-2
www.bongobeat.com

This will be, what, the third punk oral history I have read? And like Please Kill Me (N.Y.) and We Got the Neutron Bomb (L.A.), it is also named after a song (from the chorus of Simply Saucer’s “Bullet Proof Nothing”). And, also like the other two, this one is excellent.

Treat Me Like Dirt is extensively detailed by those who lived through the scene, either directly day-to-day, or sometimes in spurts, such as Dead Boys’ Cheetah Chrome or Lydia Lunch. Told generally chronologically, jumping sections broken up from band to band and back, the handy reference of people - listed alphabetically - explains who they are and their association to the scene, in a very handy reference right up front. I’m happy to say I personally know a few, some of whom I call friend.

Liz, who was born the year after the period this book technically ends, has done an above-and-beyond, exemplary job taking a complex multi-character / band situation and made it possible to follow the story of each of the bands covered, in almost a narration. Sure, I had to go back and forth to remember who some of the huge cast was, but as the book progressed, that needed to happen less and less, as the people became so familiar. This is especially important for those who are not very familiar with the inhabitants who were involved with the scene.

As with any scene, there are the “big boys” and the “second tier” bands (my quotes); for example, in New York, every history seems to be about the Patti, the Ramones, the Dictators, the Heartbreakers, Television, and Blondie, but there were many other groups just bubbling under, such as the Mumps, the Marbles, and tons of others who were also important, but still never went anywhere. This is also true of the Toronto / Hamilton scene, where the first level is discussed, such as (in no particular order) Teenage Head, the Viletones, Simply Saucer, Forgotten Rebels, the B-Girls, the Ugly, the Demics, plus others, and she also delves into the secondary level with the Secrets, the Curse, the Androids, and the Poles (though I’m surprised there isn’t more about Johnny and the G-Rays), etc.. There are a number of tertiary bands that get mentioned, but not really covered, such as the Loved Ones (editor Gary Pig Gold’s band), the Eels, the Shakers (who were on the pop side), and some great band names like Crash Kills Five, Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet, and my favorite name listed in the book, Dick Duck and the Dorks (perhaps some of these were later than the 1981 cut-off, I’m not sure).

The presence of Liz’s voice in the book is among (or, for the Canadian readers, amongst) the least, with but page-long preface about her undertaking to write and publish this tome, and another page of acknowledgements / thank yous that is mostly the names of those quoted.

As Bruce Mowat (whom I had sort of expected, and I say this bemusedly, would write his own history of at least the Hamilton phase, as he did for FFanzeen many years ago) rightfully says in his review of this book at his gmole.blogspot.com, “A couple of pages of historical context from the author, a discography and a time line might have helped.” [As I’m wont to digress, please permit me to do so here: on a dark and gloomy day in 2006, Bruce led me on a tour of Hamilton, and many of the places he took me are mentioned here, such as the Lanois Brothers’ house in Ancaster, the spot on Hillview Street where the Teenage Head first played, the place in the Jackson Square Mall where Simply Saucer had their noted performance, and he even brought me to meet Simply Saucer’s Edgar Breau at Edgar’s house.] This is the only close-to quibble I have about the book, as well.

You may ask, “Why Toronto of all places?” Well, if you don’t know (in which case you really need to get this book), Toronto (in this review, when I say Toronto, I’m including Hamilton because even though they are separate cities, they have overlapping and cross-pollinating scenes) is arguably one of the four concurrent places where punk really started on its own at the same time, including New York, Boston, and London (UK)., even while New York was considered the “leader” thanks to the early signing of bands).

One aspect interests me is that while comparing the New York and Toronto scenes, as presented in this book, they pretty much followed a similar path, where it started insular with a few bands, and then it exploded with crowds from the surrounding areas (and the increasing gentrification of those slum areas since); likewise, the early bands came from nowhere and most of them burned out pretty fast, be it from infighting, lack of label attention, or substance abuse (as is chronicled in Treat, there was lots of booze, and eventually heroin). As Ralph Alfonso wisely points out in the book, at the time, “you’re dealing with bands and a genre of music which is completely based and derived from, and owes all of its existence to, music by bands who had failed. So when you’re talking about the MC5, Stooges, Flamin’ Groovies, Dictators, Velvet Underground even, these are all bands that, in their time, were commercial failures. None of them sold records and they all got dropped. But they were so influential that they were responsible for punk. So, ergo, the cycle will repeat itself” [p. 344]. In other words, in most scenes there is the initial bands that come out that are mostly ignored by their contemporaries and they pass quickly, but are still the artistic foundation of the bigger bands to follow. Some groups do survive on some level (e.g., Teenage Head have more than a dozen albums), but many more schism.

A theme that runs throughout the book is that at some point, after the first year covered (1977), there is sure to be someone who says, “This is the moment that punk rock ended in Toronto.” That sentiment comes up often by numerous people, nearly from the beginning. I certainly remember that happening in New York, as well. “Oh, the Ramones signed to Sire; the scene is dead!” “Blondie has a disco song that’s a hit; the scene is dead!” Here it’s the end of the Crash ‘n Burn club, the signing of bands, a riot at a public concert, the entrance of a gang of bullies, the introduction of rockabilly (to North America what reggae was to the U.K.), what-have-you. Another theme is that it seems that no band was happy with their first album for whatever reason. Yet these records today are considered classics.

Also, as with most scenes in the four cities, in the Toronto area there was a division between the art students and the, well, not. Here in New York, it was the experimental Talking Heads and Theoretical Girls types vs. the Ramones and Dead Boys anti-intellectuals. In Toronto, it was the arty and experimental Diodes and the Dishes, vs. the Viletones and the Ugly. Similarly, even though they both resented each other and there was strong jealousy, they often shared bills and, on some level, supported one another because they needed each other.

One of the outstanding elements of Treat is that the quotes are thorough enough that the personalities definitely shine through. You can feel the excitement of when the members talk about their bands starting up and the early scene, and the tiredness of when they are held back by circumstances (e.g., label indifference, car accidents, squabbling). But there are more subtle nuances that one can “read,” such as how in-the-moment some were, such as Mickey DeSadist and Freddy Pompeii, and how self-promoting and pretentious are others, so in love with their image, such as Steve Leckie (Nazi Dog, of the Viletones) and Michaele Jordana (of the Poles). Leckie has jumped image a number of times, from Bowie-clone to punk to rockabilly, and even though he pushes the envelope in each phase, it’s more calculation and self-promotion than living in the moment and being. This is evident in some of the earlier pictures, where he consistently refuses to look at the camera during group shots; he’s too cool, I guess. I believe, in the context of this book, he comes across as the person most widely disliked for his manipulation of people. That being said, I cannot underscore enough how much of a seminal work their first EP was, especially “Screaming Fist,” which may be the first hardcore punk record on this continent. With Jordana, well, it’s just pretention and self-glorification all the way: “We created the look and the sound and the language of new wave, which survived…I am an artist. I’m not really meant to be totally commercial. I’m more of a seer.” If you watch the very last video below, you can see the artiste overshadow the artist.

What turned me on to oral histories, and what keeps me enticed, is certainly present in Treat Me Like Dirt, and that is since it is first-person histories, there are contradictions of stories from person to person. This goes from the mundane, such as who started a food fight with stale buns (and how it began), to the question of how the Ugly’s singer, Mike Nightmare died (everything from heart attack to being shot by the police).

In case I haven’t been clear, this is a thorough and excellent must read that will keep the reader involved. It is also well-edited by scene chronicler (and also one of my favorite music writers, as well as a damn fine musician) Gary Pig Gold (www.garypiggold.com), who ran the Pig Paper fanzine (past issues can be found here: www.archive.org/search.php?query=%22Pig%20Paper%22). Lastly, and it really does deserve mention, the book layout and design by ex-Diodes manager / Crash N Burn doorman / musician and poet / Bongo Beat publisher Ralph Alfonso, is a beaut. With two columns of text per page at (if I’m not correct, Ralph, let me know) 10 pt. Ariel Condensed type, there is a lot to read without having to trail all the way across the page, making this book an ergonomic ease on the eyes. Plus, there’s tons of pictures (quite a few by Ralph, himself).

Reading this made me think of two things specifically: one is that I would love to hear a clear CD collection of this music (below there is a smattering of some of the bands), and I wish there was some indication of what some of these people are doing now. Perhaps on a Web-site? On the other hand, I was impressed by how many of the people interviewed here mentioned Marshall McLuhan (who taught at the University of Toronto).

Now I’d like to see an oral history on some of the other important punk sites, such as Boston, Vancouver, Ohio (Akron/Cleveland),

P.S., Get well soon, Imants Krumins.

Reply from publisher Ralph Alfonso to this review:
Hahaha. The font is not Arial, and the type size is 8pt. A lot of work went into the layout and trying to make it all fit in 384 pages (that's a standard book size - price goes up after that). Discographies & etc. would have ballooned the book up to 500 pages or more. The way the story line worked out, there was no real room for everyone; that can all be the subject for a follow-up, I guess. Once people actually read the book (and not count their pictures or index instances), it makes a lot of sense as a unified storyline that moves chronologically in the continuous present. We did try to insert some mentions of tertiary bands but it just didn't work and looked like it was inserted for no real reason, since they had no relationships with the main players. The public agrees - we're about to go into a third printing! Crazy! I had no idea this would happen.
- Ralph

News Report ’77


Simply Saucer:


Viletones:


Diodes:
“Tired of Waking Up Tired”:

Demics:
“New York City”:

Teenage Head:


Forgotten Rebels:
“Bomb the Boats”:

The Curse:
“Shoeshine Boy”:

B-Girls (v.2):


Later perspective:
[This whole series is worth watching, starting at: www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvxI-xOAH_M&feature=related]