There are only two songs here, but
they spit guitar fire. Falling comfortably somewhere between rock and metal,
they have a sound that could have mass appeal. I don’t know much about them,
but with the right tweaking, I can see them going somewhere. The vocals by Steven
Kuchinsky are solid New England, reminding me of so many rocker bands from the
Rat period (like Stomper and Pastiche). It’s short and sweet, but this
definitely gives the listener a nice taste of the band’s style. I’m looking
forward to a full release.
There are a lot of rockers of various
shades in this column, but Fire in the Field are a bit different in that while
it’s, well, user-friendly, there is enough
of a pop level that is appealing so that it stands out. High production values
without overwhelming it, with some catchy melodies, you get the impression that
they’re fun to see live. Sort of like if the Romantics were heavier, it’s a
band you can headbang to, or just dance. That’s saying a lot. The songs are
good, if a bit long, but more importantly they’re fun with just the right
amount of noise thrown in. My drawback comment? The lyrics are included, but
they’re small and white print on red background, so that it’s hard enough to
read that even my $2 drug store classes aren’t helping.
At first I didn’t understand the name
of the band; I mean, I got the “Black” part, but “Blackenstein” felt a bit like
an appropriation. But now I get it. This is both a band and it’s also a collection of parts to make a whole. There is a
sharing of musical sections and vocals (though Black wrote most of the tunes),
including a number of additional players from various bands like the Joe Perry
Project (Charlie Farren, who sings lead on a cover of “Care About You”). There
is some consistency such as Black playing bass, Aart Knyff and Johnny Press
sharing both lead and rhythm guitar. Some of the hard rock-style warbling
vocals are handled by Jeffrey Baker. One of the enjoyable quirks on the
collection is a cover of Black Oak Arkansas’ “Uncle Elijah” with Black on
decent vocals. Knyff handles the vox on his own heavy rocker, “Over You.” All
the songs are classic style rock with some strong metal edges, especially the
last cut, “Blackenstein,” where drummer Simon Adamsson really gets to shine on
a solo. While I prefer my rock style stripped down, this works well with more a
more mainstream method that is full of musical gimmicks and production values
that ae radio-friendly.
Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers
L.A.M.F.: The Lost ‘77 mixes
Jungle Records / Track Records
There are a lot of influential albums
floating around that formed punk, such as the Stooges and the Velvet
Underground. But there were three biggies (in my opinion) as far in influence
that came out of the New York Scene that fostered punk around the world: the
New York Dolls first album, the Ramones first LP, and arguably L.A.M.F. had the most lasting impression
of even those other two. And, that release originally had a terrible mix thanks
to the good intentions of drummer Jerry Nolan. There have been a number of
different versions of the album since then, and this one is from 2017. From the
first distorted note of the opening cut, “Born to Lose” (also known by its fans
as “Born Too Loose”), you know you’re hearing something different just by the
line “Living in a jungle / it ain’t so hard / Living in a city / It’ll tear,
tear out your heart.” There’s not a bad song here, each being powerful fuelled
by Thunders and co-singer/guitarist Walter Lure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen
bassist Billy Rath speak on stage (his cigarette would have fallen out of his
mouth…). Nolan is generally recognized as one of the great drummer of the
scene. There are some that remain favorites of mine, such as “All By Myself,”
“I Wanna Be Loved,” “Chinese Rocks” (written by Dee Dee Ramone, but released by
the Heartbreakers first; Nolan’s drummer here is amazing), “Get Off the Phone,”
“One Track Mind” (adapted from Richard Hell’s “Love Comes in Spurts,” co-written
with Lure), “I Love You,” “Let Go,” “Can’t Keep My Eyes on You,” and a cover of
“Do You Love Me.” To me, what made the Heartbreakers (and hence this album) so
special is what also made the Who so exceptional is that all the band members
were pretty much playing lead concurrently. Even after not listening to the
original for quite a while, I was singing along, and missing Max’s Kansas City.
I Love this collection, and could wax on about it quite extensively. Oh, before
I forget, it comes with a really nice booklet with an article by Nina Antonia
(who wrote the Thunders bio) and an explanation about each song along with the
lyrics.
John Lee Hooker
The Modern, Chess & Veejay Singles Collection 1949-62
If you’re really into modern music
history, you have to admit that when it comes to genres, whether you like a
musician or not, it’s nearly impossible to realistically say that someone is
“the best.” There is, however, a pantheon of musician in most fields, and it
would be hard to argue that when it comes to the recordings of guitar-based
blues, John Lee Hooker is near the top. This 101-song, 4-disc collection that
lasts 214 minutes, is a good example of just why Hooker is so important to the
field. Hooker is a master of the blues (acoustic) guitar, whatever the style,
from the slow “my girl done me wrong” style to solid boogie, and into early
rock’n’roll. It’s not fer nuthin’ that blues rock guitarists cite him, such as
Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton. Hooker is the real deal. I don’t think I have the
space to scratch the surface in averring just how amazing this collection is in
that pantheon. Hooker was a game changer, and these discs are the proof of how
he helped change the face of music. While Hooker never lost his blues touch,
over time you can hear the rock’n’roll rhythms emanating out of his six-string
and vocals, though usually more in the boogie mode. These are classic documents
looking backward into rock history. It also comes with a comprehensive 24-page
booklet that explains each song, what was recorded at which session, and so
forth. Quite a stunning and wonderful – albeit a happily time-consuming – assemblage
that is guaranteed to thrill those who are blues fans.
Built on a solid and heavy bottom
sound with Dirk Van Tilborg’s bass and Patrick Johansson’s drums recorded
together live in studio – and then overlayered with some flashy guitar (both
lead and rhythm) by Mitch Bernstein and lower-register vox by Gary Brown. It’s
effective and different than most high-pitched airy metal as it’s more sludgey; I like a sound you can wade
through more than one that sounds like it’s coming from on-high, or as I like
to put it in Marshall McLuhan terms, more cool than hot. The songs, however,
sound decent, but I cringed a bit at the retro lyrics, such as “Bros before
Hoes / Hoes droppin’ low … / I’m the one you need / Make that booty bounce for
me” (from “Rollin’ With G”) and “Too drunk to take your clothes off… / That
ain’t no way to treat your man” (from “Treat Your Man”), and this is the two
opening cuts. Uff-da. “Love Song,” which is solid Southern Rock (they are from
that region) a la Black Oak
Arkansas-style nasality, has a similar dick-rock theme. Now, I’m not dissin’
the band, there’s some really good stuff here, like the ballad rocker “Used to
Believe,” but so much of it is more “I can’t get no sleep / Even masturbation
doesn’t help me,” from “I Got Needs.” Unfortunately, as much as I like the
general sound, the lyrics don’t work for me as so much of them are
unimaginative and repetitious in over-sexualized masculinist mode. Lyrics
included.
Positive Negative Man
Broken
CPR Records (ancient-pistol@hotmail.com)
With a name that sounds like the
title of a They Might Be Giants song, it’s hardly surprising that Positive
Negative Man presents a kind of chaotic and dissonant front. Oh, that’s not an
insult, hell no. The songs are borderline No Wave (closer to Mars than Teenage
Jesus and the Jerks), but one of the aspects I find interesting is that with
all the noise, it’s all done with standard rock’n’roll equipment (guitar, bass,
drum, voice), yet there are enough squelches to keep any electro fan happy. Most
of the vocals are pretty straightforward as are the core of the songs; they’re
just played over the racket. They refer to themselves as a “post-punk pop experiment,”
and I would not argue with that at all. Sometimes it’s the guitar as lead
destructor, other times it’s the bass, such as with “The Ice Queen of Space.”
Though no two songs are alike, their approach seems to be, though. While this
may not exactly be my playlist style, and I did have trouble making out most of
the lyrics, the last song, “Just Don’t Think” is extremely catchy and has
lasted with me well beyond the initial playing.
Sidney Green Street Band
Half Live
www.facebook.com/sidneygreenstreetband/
The meaning of the title is that half the songs
on the CD are recorded in a studio in Brooklyn, and half are recorded live at
the Great Notch Inn, in Little Falls, NJ, at 12 in total. These guys do a bit
of country rock but more on the AOR spectrum. That being said, the first song
on the studio side is a bit different than the rest, focused on “Muscle Shoals”
studio releases. Then the country kicks in with the cleverly named “Last Beer
and Testament” and the heartbreak-focused “One Alone.” After a lusty “Next
Time,” they turn a bit towards the bluesy “Don’t Make That Girl Cry.” The last
cut on this “side” is the overlong but decent Southern Rocker “Stayin’ All
Night.” Most of the live cuts are enjoyable country rock. There is a strong emphasis
on all the songs of electric guitar. If
you’re into this kind of sound, I doubt you’ll be disappointed.
There are always raging question,
such as “Who was the first punk band?”, or “What was the first punk release?” For me, a more important question is “Which
is the most influential punk album?”
Yeah, there are lots of them, such as The
Stooges, The Velvet Underground & Nico, The Ramones, The New York Dolls, and
Never Mind the Bollocks. The simple
answer is… I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure near the very top of the list is
the Heartbreakers’ L.A.M.F., originally
released in 1977.
Richard Hell-era Heartbreakers
The Heartbreakers were
Johnny Thunders (vox, guitar), Walter Lure (vox, guitar), Billy Rath (bass) and
Jerry Nolan (drums). Of them, Walter is the sole survivor. He’s been playing
with his own band, the Waldos, for decades now. For the 40th anniversary of L.A.M.F.’s release, he decided to play
the album from beginning to end. Of course, it couldn’t be as the
Heartbreakers, but he and Jesse Malin put together an all-star group and named
it after the album to be played. For this gathering at the Bowery Electric
during November 2016, Walter is joined by Clem Burke (drums) of Blondie, Wayne
Kramer (guitar) of the MC5 and Gang War (in which he was a member with
Thunders), and Tommy Stinson (guitar, vox) of the Replacements and Guns ‘N
Roses. In one form or another, I have seen all of them play, including guests Cheetah
Chrome (guitar, vox) of the Dead Boys and Jesse Malin (vox, guitar). The sole
newbie to me is vocalist rocker Liz Colby.
The new line-up played three shows at
this venue, all of which sold out, and this DVD is a compilation of the best of
it. They played the album from start to finish. While I wasn’t there, I’m
grateful to have the opportunity to view this. Plus, the visuals and sound are
crystal clear (with the exception of a few fuzzy images here and there), unlike
the muddled original pressing of the album, thanks to Nolan’s tinkering.
Let’s face it, part of the charm and
importance of the Heartbreakers isn’t the band’s music al clarity. The playing
is sloppy, the vocals are equally so, and the songs range from pretty silly to
drugged out bashing. But it was a combination that so incredibly powerful for just those reasons. I loved to go see
the Heartbreakers. When they were there,
they were a force. That is sort of
what I was expecting: sloppy yet stormy. And that’s just what this is,
thankfully.
Stinson takes the lead with “Born to
Lose,” which has the great lyrics, “Living in a jungle, it ain’t that hard /
Living in the city it will tear out your heart.” One of the names often given
to this Thunders’ masterwork is “Born Too Loose,” and Stinson plays it just
that way, screaming up into his microphone in modified-Lemmy fashion. The man
can’t sing to save his life – not that Johnny was a stunning vocalist, but had
a discernible and unique sound that was endearing. But Stinson has the energy and
heart, matched by Kramer’s excellent guitar riffs. He also covers the next
song, “Baby Talk” which doesn’t quite have the chantable chorus of “Born...”
Damn, I can’t help but compare it to Johnny’s (both recorded and live), and the
melody of the song gets lost here in the way he raspily shouts it.
I have been a fan of Walter’s since
the first time I saw the Heartbreakers. Not surprisingly, he seems really at
ease with one of my fave songs off the album, “All By Myself” While I always
preferred the Live at Max’s version
over the L.A.M.F. one, that’s not to say it’s any less great.
Here, the retired Pharmacist and Stockbroker is in fine form, even though
occasionally his voice sounds a bit scratchy. Shit, I’d still go to see him
play at a moment’s notice. I smiled all the way through it, and even mouthed
along with the song (well, I did that with most of it, but don’t tell anyone).
For the next two numbers, D
Generation’s Jesse Malin (and co-proprietor of the Bowery Electric) hops up on
stage, doing well to channel Johnny in the raucous “I Wanna Be Loved,” and the
ballad “It’s Not Enough.” Jesse is vocally sloppy in a similar way to Johnny,
so it’s a great fit.
For the first time at this point in
the DVD, it’s easy to spot that there is a visual melding all three shows
together as he dressed differently for each of the three shows, even though the
sound is continuous from one of them. The cut-and-pasted images would be
continued throughout the show.
I was at this show
While DeeDee Ramone wrote the song,
and the Ramones also sang it, it was the Heartbreakers that first brought
“Chinese Rocks” to the studio, and it’s rare to hear me say it, the
Heartbreakers did it better. Again, I’m a fan of the Live at Max’s take, in which Walter adjusts the lyrics (i.e.,
making it not radio-friendly), and 40
years later, with Walter and Tommy at the vocal forefront, it still kicks ass.
For this number, Kramer plugs in Thunders’ actual guitar. I’d like to add that
Burke does well matching Jerry Nolan’s stand-out drumming on the song.
“Get Off the Phone” is another Walter
classic, and I use that word sincerely. Walter handles it with aplomb – as
always – again getting everyone to sing along. More than Thunders, Lure usually
wrote songs whose choruses are more enjoyable to sing along with – said with no
disrespect to Thunders’ who wrote some great numbers as well, of course.
Picture disc L.A.M.F.; I have it
Malin is thankfully back doing his
best Thunders with “Pirate Love,” bringing up Cheetah Chrome to join in. Chrome
is an excellent guitarist – always has been – and I’m glad as time has gone by,
more people recognize it (and while you’re at it, check out his excellent
autobiography, Cheetah Chrome: A Dead Boys’
Tale, but I digress…).
“One Track Mind” originally was a
Walter Lure/Richard Hell composition, beginning its life as “Love Comes in
Spurts.” After Hell – err – left the Heartbreakers, Walter changed the song
around a bit and came up with another strong piece that was one of the
Heartbreakers’ tunes on heavy rotation in the old Max’s Kansas City days. It
definitely holds up (as does “Love Comes…” but I guess this isn’t the time or
the place for that). And yes, I sang along. Kramer takes on Thunders’ guitar break,
with Walter taking over at the end. This shows something important about what
made the Heartbreakers so special. Kramer is a stunning guitarist, but he is
quite clinical, without Johnny’s
sloppiness. Walter is as loose as ever, and the contrast here puts firmly why
Walter and Johnny were so great together as they complemented each other. Here,
the sharpness of Kramer and the looseness of Walter sounds a bit strange.
Wonderful, but strange.
Wayne Kramer and Liz Colby
I miss Johnny singing with Joy Ryder
(d. 2015); usually they did “Great Big Kiss.” I bring this up because Liz Colby
brings a dose of feminine rock to Johnny’s “I Love You,” a solid song that
blasts, and she is up for the task, giving it an occasionally smoky, bluesy
texture. She also made me think, “Wow, Johnny never jumped around the stage as
much as she does”; then again, he usually couldn’t. He was more of a stage
roamer with his tongue often doing the most movement.
Cheetah comes back on both guitar and vocals knee deep with “Goin’
Steady.” While it is not as rough as Stinton’s, Chrome’s gritty voice matches
the sound and the mood of the song, doing the Heartbreakers proud. Same can be
said about Kramer, who takes the lead for “Let Go,” a powerhouse of a number.
The rave up has a great chorus, especially when the band sings along.
Appropriately, Burke sings “Can’t
Keep My Eyes on You,” which was a contribution to the album by drummer Nolan. Of
course the song is about fashion, as that was one of Nolan’s (many) specialities.
Burke’s vocals are a bit rough around the edges, buy hey, so was Nolan’s. Still
a great song, though, and it gets the respect it deserves. Same with Kramer
taking on the Thunders cover of The Contours’ “Do You Love Me,” which is a
high-energy song to end the set.
Walter, Cheetah, Tommy, Clem
For the extras, there is a 3:08
minute interview with Clem Burke about how he came to be included, and his
fandom of the Heartbreakers, especially Jerry Nolan. Next up is 3:29 of Jesse
Malin who also discusses his love of the Heartbreakers and Walter in
particular. For 3:10, Stinson fuckin’ talks about how fuckin’ important the
fuckin’ record is and how fuckin’ drugs fuckin’ influenced it. In other words,
he doesn’t really say that fuckin’ much that the whole fuckin’ world doesn’t already
fuckin’ know. Walter’s bit is 4:41, and he discusses the place of the
Heartbreakers in the local musical spectrum of its time, and his relationships
with other Heartbreaker members. Last up is Wayne Kramer at a full 7:04, who
waxes poetic on how Beethoven, Charlie Parker, rappers, etc., were punks, and
how ignorant he was about the Heartbreakers’ music, even though he knew some of
the songs as he was in a band with Thunders and played some of them live
before.
I’m amazed at how young so much of
the audience is in these three sold-out shows, and yet they’re singing along. That
shows the power and influence of the Heartbreakers. My only annoyance – and this
shows my age more than anything else,
is how much of the view is blocked by people taping the show on their
cellphones. Either get the pro cameras higher (if that’s possible or even
realistic), or have a no taping policy. Yeah, I’m a curmudgeon about this,
because I want to see the musicians through the lens of either my own eyes or
the camerapeople, not the blue glow of the cells.
Just sayin'...
Now if I had a choice between seeing
the capture of this reunion show or something like Scorsese’s The Last Waltz, about the last show of the
Band, there is no question in my mind that I would plug in this. The odds are
better of my not falling asleep with Uncle Walter and Co. I care more about being
told to get off the phone than finding out about the night they driving old
Dixie down. Hands down. Now how about a Rent
Party show, Walter?
In my opinion, the punk rock that is generally
acknowledged by the mainstream as Punk Rock officially started with the
Ramones.However, the role of both
the proto-punk New York Dolls and paradigm-changer the Heartbreakers cannot be
under-appreciated for bands like the Ramones to have existed, and more
importantly, to succeed.
The first time I saw the Dolls play,
it was just after guitarist Johnny Thunders and drummer Jerry Nolan had left the
band, I’m sorry to say (I started in the scene in Spring of 1975). For me, my
love affair of the music of Johnny and Jerry started at CBGBs in early ‘76, at
the premiere of Amos Poe’s film, Blank
Generation. The band that opened that night, with the tiny stage still on
the left side of the club, was the Heartbreakers, when the “lead” was still
Richard Hell. I found the musicianship kind of rattling and lovingly sloppy. Johnny
style of guitar and Hell’s bass playing was all over the map, but they could do
that because of the consistency of Jerry’s drumming.
After Hell was ousted, I saw Jerry in
many different incarnations, including the revamped Heartbreakers with Thunders
and Walter Lure up front (probably the band I’ve seen live more than any other),
the Rockats, and the final time at Johnny Thunders’ memorial just a few short
months before it was Jerry’s turn to join Johnny one more time.
Johnny and Jerry, pic (c) Robert Barry Francos
It’s true that Johnny received more
relative fame than Jerry. Hell, Walter was technically a better guitarist and
just as enjoyable onstage as Johnny, but Johnny had that danger element that Walter lacked (not meant as an insult; I’m
looking forward to someone doing a book about him as I find Walter fascinating),
and Jerry was so consistent and
excellent, that it almost worked against him for standing out. However, other musicians
knew how good he was, including the author of this book, Curt Weiss, a drummer
in his own right.
There are definitely some themes that
flow through the Jerry Nolan story, such as style,
women, music, temperament, and especially drugs. It’s hard to underestimate
just what a lynchpin hard drugs were to the New York scene on the Lower East
Side, which is one of the reasons why I would go see these bands and write
about them, but did not hang out with them very much; they scared the shit out
of me. This book does not shy away from it, and rightfully so.
Depending on whom you talk to, Jerry
Nolan was either a really nice guy or a complete self-absorbed shit. Johnny had
a reputation of being more on the asshole side, but Jerry could be either, depending
on what his needs were, what he could get out of you, or what condition his
state of fix was in at the moment.
The term “Wild Ride” is appropriate
for Jerry’s life, and there was so much about him I did not know, such as his
being a member of the Suzi Quatro band early on (I saw them in 1975, after
Jerry left, opening for Alice Cooper at Madison Square Garden), his relationship with Bette Midler, and that’s only
the tip of the story.
Told in mostly chronological order, right
from birth, Curt manages to avoid many of the traps of biographies (and
autobiographies) that seem to follow the same path: troubled youth, find an
instrument, bunch of bands, hit the big time, and then fun and trouble brings
it all down. Yeah, there is some of all of that here, but it’s kept
interesting. I like how rather than quoting people by saying “Joe Blow recalls
that…” and similar passages, Weiss breaks it down to simple “Joe Blow: quote”. It may not be as literary, but it’s certainly more
effective. My one complaint about this, though, is that after the person is quoted
later, even if it’s dozens of pages than being introduced, he just uses the
first name. As someone familiar with the scene, I usually knew who he was
quoting, but a casual follower, with this many people interviewed, it’s easy to
get lost in the names of who is who. My rule of thumb would have been if the
person isn’t mentioned in 10 pages, give both names as a reminder. Perhaps I’m
nitpicking?
Still, the book and especially the
story kept me drawn all the way through. There is no doubt in my mind, and
Weiss also makes this pretty clear that he holds the same belief, that Jerry
tended to blame others for his own lack of success, but that falls straight into
his own lap. Or vein, anyway. Jerry hated sloppy drug users, but he did not see
past his own blinders. Sure, he could play under the influence better than,
well, just about anyone in his bands, but that does not mean when he wasn’t on
stage he wasn’t sabotaging himself at every turn. That’s why managers of his
bands always warned other managers about him, another consistent theme in the
book.
One of the more powerful and
interesting motifs here is the relationship between Jerry and Johnny. Someone
mentions near the end of the book how they were like an old married couple, and
that’s pretty accurate. Johnny was always his best when he was backed by Jerry –
but I want to add that Johnny was especially effective when he shared a stage
with Walter more than anyone else, in my opinion; their verbal putdown
exchanges were part of the reason to go see them perform. With Jerry and Johnny
though, it was more their between gigs interactions that made them the best of
friends and the worst of enemies, sometimes at the same time. Walter has told
stories about how Jerry would beat the hell out of Johnny if he was acting up
or sloppy-drugged. Yet, it was obvious when they worked together in front of any
crowd, it was a bond that was hard to break. Even at times when they despised
each other, they would still find a way to play. And it was a joy to watch.
As enjoyable as the book is, there is
some controversy about it, such as questions about the means Weiss used to get
some of the information. He made some of the people mentioned and quoted in the
book not too happy, one in particular threatening to take legal actions. The
question here is one of whether the ends justify the means. I’m not going to
judge one way or another.
My other issue with the book is that
there is a certainly level of assumptions, with Weiss stating things like “Jerry
felt that…” or “Jerry thought that…” That’s solid Victor Bockis territory. Second
hand “feelings” are untrustworthy, and I would have preferred if he had more
often used the style on page 231, where he has the direct source of Swedish
musician Hank Eriksson quoting Jerry saying, “Don’t worry about it. It’s rock ‘n’
roll.” Other people quoting him is not the same as assuming what Jerry was
thinking or feeling, unless a direct source is given.
Jerry at Johnny's memorial concert, pic (c) Robert Barry Francos
Towards the end of Jerry’s life – and
the book – is where Weiss makes the most assumptions, mostly about his
relationships and his means of death. I’m not saying Weiss is right or wrong, I
don’t know as I do not have the direct sources, but in this case when he states
on page 256, “There was no doubt…”, it is still an assumption on his part,
unless someone in the medical field or someone close to him told him directly,
and he can use that person as a citation.
To be fair, I have read an “Advance
Uncorrected Reader’s Proof,” so I’m not sure what has been changed between this
and the final printing. Heck, I don’t even know if there are photos added. What
I do know is despite all the possibly rightful controversy over this biography
of arguably one of the best drummers to every hit the rock’n’roll skins, it is
an enjoyable read, and an important piece about someone, under different
circumstances, would (and should) be on everyone’s list of important musicians in
his field.
I’ve certainly been in the same room
with Sid and Nancy, especially the latter considering the sheer number of times
I’ve seen the Heartbreakers, herband
of choice before latching onto Sid. But my strongest connected and contributing
memory is coming home from a show (if I remember correctly, the bands were The
Fast and Crayola) in the late 70s, after the break-up of the Sex Pistols and
before Nancy’s death, and seeing an inebriated and stumbling Sid kicking a guy passed
out on the sidewalk on 8th Street, between McDougall and Sixth (Ave
of the Americas, to those who don’t know better). Needless to say, I walked on,
without talking to him. About a year later, he and Nancy were legends and
newspaper fodder.
It makes sense that this documentary
was made by the same people/director as the excellent Looking for Johnny: The Legend of Johnny Thunders [reviewed HERE], because Thunders and his band the Heartbreakers were a key catalyst in the
lives of Sid and Nancy. Y’see, Nancy Spungen was a Heartbreakers’
friendemy/groupie who joined in with the band in its proclivity for hard drugs.
These bits of fact, mentioned as raindrops at the beginning, including the
elements of the Heartbreakers going to London to tour with the Sex Pistols, thereby
opening up an opportunity for Nancy to go to the UK to get herself a Sex Pistol (much in the way the story goes that Linda
Eastman did the same with the Beatles, and ended up with Paul).
There is a bit of irony in the whole
story of the Pistols and Heartbreakers, as the Pistols famously wrote a derogatory
song about the Heartbreakers (or New York Dolls, depending on how you read the
lyrics) in a song called “New York” (“You're just a pile of shit / You're
coming to this / You poor little faggot / You're sealed with a kiss”) to which
the Heartbreakers responded with their own “London Boys” (“You're telling me
'shut your mouth' / If I wasn't kissing, you wouldn't be around / You talk about
faggots, little momma's boy / You sit at home, you got a chaperon / You need an
escort to take a piss”); you didn’t think in-song insults started with rappers,
did you? After all that, Thunders and Vicious became good buds at some point. The introduction of
these elements led to a drug shitstorm that would rock the music scene as the
Heartbreakers (and Nancy) introduced the use of heroin to Punk’s British Second
Wave. Nancy, of course, latched herself onto Sid, but with all the tenuousness
of the violence and mind/physical altering substances of their relationship,
it’s hard to argue that they loved/needed/were dependent on each other (much as
Linda and Paul were an actual couple beyond how they met). With Nancy holding
the needle and the dime, she brought Sid into a world he may never have
explored (though that is debated in the film), and eventually to New York.
As the film demonstrates through a
large number of oral history interviews with varying memories and opinions
about what would happen between the death of Nancy and that of Sid on Feb 3,
1979 (exactly 20 years after the crash that took the life of Buddy Holly,
Richie Valens and J.P. The Big Bopper Richardson).
The general consensus seems to be that Sid could be a sweetheart or a terror,
depending on the day or what was flowing through his system, but Nancy was just
a horrendous human due to mental problems, substance abuse, and a “whiney” voice
that could shatter glass. Her mom, Deborah, tried to explain it in a defensive
and angry, self-serving auto/biography, And
I Don’t Want to Live This Life (the book goes unmentioned, and Debbie is only brought up once).
To get down to the nitty-gritty, the
film is extremely well put together with a very limited budget. I have always
enjoyed different theories types of documentaries, that doesn’t try to come any
real conclusion by itself, or have an answer in mind, and that uses the
interviews to support ideas, rather than coming to one on its own. While one of
the two trailers included in the extras claims it does, I’m happy to say it
doesn’t really. However, it does posit a bunch of credible theories and lets
the viewers come to its own possible choice of solution. The latter part of the
film sometimes feels more like a murder mystery than a narrative, which I feel is
a plus.
There are so many people from the
period present, especially in the New York Scene of the 1970s, from fans to
musicians, that experienced the Sid/Nancy phenomenon first-hand. Some include Walter
Lure, Rockets Redglare, Cynthia Ross, Donna Destri, Lenny Kaye, Andy (Adny)
Shernoff, photographer Bob Gruen (who went on the bus with the Pistols for
their US tour), the late-great Leee Black Childers (who owned a leather jacket back
then I truly envied), Howie Pyro (of The Blessed and D Generation, and who infamously
snorted some of Sid’s ashes), Hellin Killer (who was with him the night Sid
died), Sylvain Sylvain, and so many others. It also includes the one person I
really wanted to hear, which was “Neon” Leon Matthews, a musician and fellow
Chelsea Hotel resident that disappeared for a number of years after Sid died (only
to resurface decades later in Europe). For a long time it was believed he held
the key to the answer to what happened that night, and I am really grateful to
be able to hear his side of that night.
Wisely, the interviews are intercut
and short, so no one story goes on long enough to become burdensome to anyone
who doesn’t really know these people talking about their affiliation to these
two desperate and media-legendary victims. Also, the stories themselves are
interesting and keep apace. Hearing the differences in opinion and events makes
for conversations on what happened with the viewers going after the film ends.
My only gripe is that the names are only shown the first time the talker is
presented. I knew most of them, but the few I didn’t got lost on me as I heard
more of their involvement. Also, it is a pleasure that everyone who talks had
some direct action in the events, rather than hearing from journalists who
report their indirect opinions on second-hand stories (as I hypocritically do
at the end of the review).
As for the budget, well, it’s pretty
easy to see the constraints, and I’m saying this as a positive considering the
achievement and fascination of the film. For example, we see a B-roll of the
Pistols playing live, and the Heartbreakers’ “All By Myself” is playing on the
soundtrack. In fact, there is no Pistols music at all, and only a quick live snippet
of Sid at Max’s; Sid’s “My Way” and “C’mon Everybody” is mentioned, just not
heard. There are some pretty infamous clips though, including the drugged out
Sid & Nancy in bed from the film D.O.A.
(1980). The big head scratcher for me is that we don’t hear Johnny Thunders’
elegy for Sid, for which this film is named.
Other than the two trailers mentioned
previously, there is also a Heartbreakers music video for “Take a Chance” that is
linked to the film through clips. But the standout for me is the 18-minute
extra of interviews. There are five, and it was right to take them out of the
film due to their length and as they don’t really contribute to the story;
however they were among my favorite anecdotes, especially the one by Donna Destri.
Definitely watch it all of this extra all the way through. And did I mention
the DVD comes with a free film poster?
So, yeah, the director/producers certainly
achieved what they set out to do, and it makes sense that they preceded this
with one about Thunders. I’m really looking forward to what’s next (I’m hoping
one about Stiv Bators of the Dead Boys, though I haven’t heard anything about
it).
And, for what it’s worth, here is the
version of the story as I heard it at the time, though I can vouch for none of
the validity: Sid and Nancy were expecting to have a big drug deal go down, and
so they gave much of their valuables to friends for safeguarding; Johnny got
Sid’s jacket, which he wore from then on, in good faith (i.e., he never sold it
for, well, let’s say rent). The drug dealer gave them samples, enough to knock
out Sid, and then made a move on Nancy; she rejected him, and he stabbed her.
When Sid found out what happened, he felt guilty that he had passed out, and
then left her to go to his methadone appointment in the morning, saying to the
police, “I killed her,” meaning he didn’t protect her. The cops heard it as a
confession (parts of this are echoed in the film).
Who know what would have happened if
Sid had cleaned up. Would he be famous rather than infamous? Ponderous
thoughts.
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 Streetof 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 Squaresoundtrack.
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: 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.
Currently living in Saskatoon (email at RBF55@msn.com for address). From 1977-88, I used to publish a print version of a music magazine in New York called FFanzeen, which dealt with the wide-ranging independent music scene. I also photographed many bands from the period (and since). Now I write this blog. And the beat goes on.
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