Documentary Review: Nightclubbing: The Birth of Punk Rock in NYC

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2022
Images from the Internet, unless indicated

Nightclubbing: The Birth of Punk Rock in NYC
Directed by Danny Garcia
Chip Baker Films; Dudeski; MVD Entertainment
80 minutes, 2022
www.facebook.com/nightclubbingdoc

From 1975 through its closing in 1981, I was frequently a denizen of Max’s Kansas City, a club that had been open much longer than I had been attending, and was about a block north of the northeast end of Union Square Park, right on Park Avenue. The reason for my being there was not for the imbibition of alcohol, drugs or bathroom sex (all of which was concurrent with the scene), but I was there to hear the music.

Over the years, I attended a multitude of shows, supporting the venue in that way. The Heartbreakers, Wayne County and the Backstreet Boys, the Fast; heck, we interviewed thefreakin’ Ramones in the upstairs dressing room the night before they left for their first tour of the U.K. in July 1976.

Relatively early, after 10 PM, I would drive to the venue, usually finding a spot around the corner, being post-neighborhood suppers and pre-show times. I’d wait for my companions in front of the downstairs restaurant bay window, with a sill that had a 3-inch round sticker that read “Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys” stuck to it for years.

I honestly don’t remember ever eating in the downstairs restaurant, nor managing to be cool enough to get into the infamous back room, but one of my writers, Nancy Neon, interviewed the Heartbreakers’ Walter Lure there the night they closed the back room down. 

Then came the walk up the long and broad staircase, manned at the top by the person taking the admission fee. Often, this was the patron saint of the club and booker, Peter Crowley. Occasionally, he would just let me in.

When walking into the main room, you were facing the middle of the bar, the walls surrounded by artfully placed photos of some of the larger names to come to the site, taken by the leading photographers of the scene.

To the right was a huge bay window overlooking Park Avenue (funny, I don’t remember ever seeing it in the daylight) and immediately to the right were the bathrooms, which had some quite raucous and humorous graffiti, such as intimations to DeeDee Ramone’s appendage offering.

Wayne County and the Backstreet Boys
(photo by Robert Barry Francos)

Entering the staging area, the DJ booth was to the left, and if you were lucky, it was a night when Wayne/Jayne County was spinning. In front was a row of dining booth, and then there were the long, vertical communal tables where you sat near whomever you sat nearby. The view of the stage was clear wherever you were. These tables were up against the stage, so there was usually no dancing (much to the chagrin and annoyance of Eddie and the Hot Rods, the night I saw them, with the Fast opening). Because we got there early, we would sit in the middle to get a great view, and order some fries and a beer. I don’t believe I ever had any of their infamous chick peas (I’m not a fan).

At the time I was attending Max’s, there were two venues that “invented punk rock,” both in rivalries, but they often had the top bands playing at both (e.g., the Ramones). They honestly (in my opinion) both deserve the title of birth of punk, though the other site gets more credit, and I believe that is because of a well-timed, on-air tee shirt worn by a member of Gun N’ Roses. However, Max’s was there first, open for proto bands like the New York Dolls, the Stooges, and the Velvet Underground, who were creating a scene half a decade before the other place.

The Fast (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

That is where Danny Garcia comes in. The man has a history of documentaries about nascent punk, such as Looking for Johnny: The Legend of Johnny Thunders (2014), Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy (2016), and STIV: No Compromise, No Regrets (2019), the latter about the lead singer of the Dead Boys.  

By this point, Garcia knows all the key players and assembles them to do this film version of an oral history that absorbs the viewer right from the start. The documentary begins with quick, unidentified clips of musicians and artists making comments, but this is the prologue. I recognized 90 percent of them.

Donna Destri (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

After respectfully setting up the idea that this was about Max’s and not CBGB, the history of Max’s early days is given, during its Andy Warhol phase and after, when the artistic elite – such as musicians, painters, and writers – all packed that small room, much to the delight of each other. Many a major record deal was signed in that hallowed spot. Musician Elliot Murphy makes a wise analogy connecting Max’s back room with the infamous Algonquin Round Table. This is off to an excellent start.

There are plenty of early clips of artists on the Max’s stage, focusing on the big ones like Alice Cooper, the Stooges, the VU, the New York Dolls, and even Sid Vicious (though that was later), who was both a regular there in his later days, and even played on its stage a number of times. Due to the age and technology, many of these clips are shown as B-roll over contemporary interviews with the likes of Cooper, or music bytes.

The Heroes/Heartbreakers (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

While there are other sources for the early days of Max’s (such as the book High on Rebellion: Inside the Underground at Max’s Kansas City by Yvonne Sewalll-Ruskin), this documentary is all truly fascinating; for me, however, the story ramps up for the second phase of Max’s, when the original owner Micky Ruskin gave way to different ownership by Tommy Dean, and then Crowley came on the scene to turn a restaurant that played music occasionally to a venue known mostly for the bands that would play there. At this point, there is a bit of a screed again CBGB (“…where the style of dress is different, and the attitude is different, and the presentation is different.”); CBs definitely finds its way into this story, but the primary focus is on Max’s.

Along with the obvious historical timelines, etc., part of what makes this documentary so compelling to me is the numerous side stories, such as DeeDee’s girlfriend trying to dismember the member mentioned above, or the fight between Jayne County and a very belligerent and drunk Handsome Dick Manitoba of the Dictators, and the schism it caused in the scene at the time. The almost Comix style animation used to highlight this little groundbreaking bout that would synergize the two clubs is spot on.

The Senders (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

The interviews are a large part of the story, but it does not feel overwhelming. There are a lot of talking over the live performances and still photos, and even, as mentioned above, the occasional animation. This keeps the focus on the oral history, without becoming tedious.

As with most documentaries that are heavy with interviews, there is a level of participation needed from the audience as to who the main characters are, even with the briefest of information given about them (name, name of band, for example). This is no issue with people like Cooper, or Billy Idol, HR (Bad Brains), Neon Leon, or even probably the amazing Lenny Kaye. But I wonder how the novice to the scene would know about some really important personalities, such as the lovely Singer/scenestress Donna Destri or Leee Black Childers (heck, I can’t even begin to list his accomplishments, they are so deep and varied to especially Max’s).

Eddie and the Hot Rods (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

There are dozens of people who are crucial to the music scene, presented in both contemporary and archival footage, including (but not only) Jesse Malin, Jimmy Zero (Dead Boys), Steve Stevens (Billy Idol Band), Harley Flanagan, Mickey Leigh, Penny Arcade, and arguably one of the biggest Max’s supporters over the decades and interesting musician in his own right, Jimi Lalumia. Archival footage includes some that have passed on too soon, like Leee Black Childers (d. 2014), Sylvain Sylvain (d. 2021), and Alan Vega (d. 2016), among others.

Presented is also some clips from live shows, such as Alice Cooper, the Testors, Ruby and the Rednecks, the Stooges, and a very fuzzy Sid Viscous. For those interested, and it should be anyone reading this, both the Stooges and Vicious footage are newly found and this is its premiere. I like that they mixed some bands that are unknown to the mainstream, along with some of the bigger names.

Ronnie and the Jitters (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

Overall, this is a riveting revival for Max’s (though the brief uptown Max’s revival is wisely ignored), and this is a bit rambling over the history in a way that keeps the interest rather than getting bogged down in logistics and historical timelines. And if one if into punk of that period, whether you were there or not, it is worth a watch. Maybe take some notes.

Meanwhile, the film will be opening up this summer teamed along with another new Garcia documentary, Sid: The Final Curtain, about Sid's adventures in New York between leaving the Pistols and his ridiculously unnecessary death. Sid has long been a topic of interest to Garcia; however, I am hoping at some point he will direct his skills towards a study on Jayne County, the Person Zero (along with Suicide’s Alan Vega) who – this film acknowledges in its opening – kick-started the whole New York City punk rock scene.

IMBD Listing HERE

Bonus:

Two Reviews: Blank Generation (1980); The Blank Generation (1976)

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2022
Film screenshots from the Internet

Blank Generation
Directed by Ulli Lommel
Dark Force Entertainment; MVD Entertainment
78 minutes, 1980
www.darkforcesuperstore.com
www.mvdb2b.com

There are lots of stories surrounding the making of this important, yet Grade C level film. One of my favorites – and I am not positing it is true or not – that the director, Ulli Lommel (d. 2017), was so envious of the love scenes between stars Richard Hell and Carole Bouquet, that he wrote himself into the plot so he could possibly have his own chance with her. This jealousy also took a simple story and flushed it down the toilet as far as plotline quality goes. Well, to be honest, I have not seen the film since around the time it came out and saw it at some art house in New York City, so this will honestly be like watching it for the first time.

After a brief prologue, we get smacked in the face with the title song, one of my all-time favorites (it’s the Voidoids version, not the original Ork release). The sound is crisp and clear, but we only get to hear the first two stanzas, and it fades out after Hell tells Bob Quine to “take it.”

 

Richard Hell

Richard Hell plays up-and-coming punk singer Billy. Musically, it’s Hell pure and simple, no matter what name they give him. He’s vying for a record contract and while in the recording studio (singing “New Pleasure”). It is there he meets French video journalist Nada (Bouquet), and sparks fly while we get to hear the complete song. Yay. This leads of a volatile, almost schizophrenically up and down relationship between the two.

Billy is quite cynical about the music biz and is trying to figure out his role either in or out of it, while his long-suffering manager with a thick NYC accent, Jack (Howard Grant), is trying to guide his career, though the question is whether it is for Billy or his own financial stake that he is there.

Carole Bouquet

At some point, German journalist Hoffritz (Lommel) enters the picture as Bouquet’s former lover who has shown up looking for Andy Warhol (d. 1987), who makes a cameo in the film. This sets up a dynamic of a “who will she choose?” scenario: the rock star who wants nothing more to do with music (with no reference on what he would do instead) or the cynical journalist who is obsessed with Warhol. While Nana is hooking up with Hoffritz, Billy is with Lizzy (Suzanna Love), another filmmaker. One minute it’s Billy and Nada, then it’s not, then it is, then it’s …

Whatever the weaknesses in the storyline and especially the dialogue, which often borders on the ridiculous (the “beach” conversation in the car is a perfect example), this film is a must-see just for the visuals of the gritty New York City of the late 1970s, including under the West Side Drive, on a rooftop with the iconic water towers, and especially the scenes in CBGB, which are both a joy and heartbreaking. [As they scanned the tables, I realized that I have sat at just about every table there; small digression that has nuthin’ to do with nuthin’: I was in the hospital having a procedure, and as the doc was getting ready to give me a huge needle, he said, “think of a happy place, like a beach or a mountain.” My mind went immediately to sitting at a table at CBGB waiting for the band to start…] It was also fun to see the backstage (a room I have been in numerous times) which highlights some graffiti of The Senders. Meanwhile, the Voidoids (Hell, bass/vox, Quine on guitar, Ivan Julian on guitar, and Mark Bell – the future Marky Ramone – on drums) get to show off live on CBGB’s stage. Warms the cockles of my heart. Amusingly, perhaps, there is a scene shot at CB’s of Nada interviewing a bunch of club denizens (I am assuming they are real rather than actors), reminiscent of the early Amos Poe film, The Blank Generation, reviewed below.

Ulli Lommel, Andy Warhol

There are lots of cameos by some who were critical and omnipresent to the scene at the time, such as violinist Walter Steding, fashion maven Natasha, and of course, Warhol.

Bouquet is quite beautiful, and Hell is in his prime (1977 Big Star magazine interview with Hell from 1977 HERE), (with his original teeth and all). What he lacks in acting talent, he makes up for in enthusiasm and making some amazing music that helped spark the whole British punk movement when Malcolm McLaren (d. 2010) infamously ripped him off from sound to fashion.

Most clips I have seen of the film over the years have been taken from VHS copies, and were highly grainy (as VHS tends to be), but this Blu-ray is crisp, as it is a 2K scan taken from the only remaining 35mm print! That only one survives is something I am both grateful for, and indignant about its lack of care of the rest of the prints. That being said, for a Blu-ray release, there are zero extras on this, but I don’t care because the main meat of the matter, the film itself, is the rightful focus.

Speaking of technology, it is fun to see the state of art mechanics of the time, such as video recorder cameras that are separate from the tape deck, dial phones, old cars, and the such.

The biggest problem with the film is that it is inconsistent to its own theme, jumping back and forth between stories with gaps in-between that make the viewer feel a bit shell shocked and while it’s not confusing, it really doesn’t make much sense. I was more interested in the Billy/Nada relationship, and the adding of Hoffritz just feels superlative. If the film could have focused on just the couple, with their ups and downs, it would have been much more interesting. Though the live music helps, even though there is excessive use of the title cut throughout, and there is obvious reuse of some shots such as Billy coming up from the CBGB bathrooms, and of the Voidoids on stage (shown at least three times). I understand why this film has a rep for being a muddled mess, because on one hand it is just that, but if you were there at the time, or if you wanted to know what it was like, this is more an important time binding document than story.

According to IMDB, Lommel still presently has projects in works, both as director and actor, 5 years after he has died; his other big success might arguably have been The Boogyman, a film he directed that came out the same year as this release. His later works seemed to rely on stories of real serial killers.

IMDB listing HERE 

 

The Blank Generation
Directed by Ivan Kral and Amos Poe
Blank Generation LLC
54 minutes, 1976
www.TheBLANKGeneration.com
www.IvanKral.net

This film documents, what it calls, the birth of punk rock in New York during the early 1974-75 CBGB (mostly here; closed 2006 and is now a clothing store) and Max’s Kansas City (closed 1981 and is now a deli), with some shots from other venues such as the Bottom Line (closed in 2004, and is now a student’s residence for New York University). But in some ways, it overlaps with its own midwife, but more on that later.

The film is jumpily shot by Patti Smith Group guitarist Ivan Kral on silent 16mm, and is then audibly superimposed by the sounds of the band’s recordings, either legitimate releases, demos, or live cassettes.

The premiere of the film was held in CBGB, when the stage was still on the left side, so needless to say in all the CBGB footage in the documentary, that is where the infamously (and hotly debated) Television-built stage was located. It is nice to see the huge photos sans stickers and band graffiti that would eventually cover them up in the 1980s and ‘90s. The band that played the night of the opening was the Heartbreakers, with Richard Hell still a member. I saw the Heartbreakers so many times on stage, but that was the only time with the Hell line-up, before Billy Rath replaced Hell on bass), and Johnny Thunders and Walter Lure moved to the front permanently out of Meyer’s shadow.

The Patti Smith Group

The film is broken up, essentially though not officially, into three chapters. The first one is the “birthers of punk,” for lack of a better term, starting with The Patti Smith Group performing in various venues (as is true with most of the bands) to the soundtrack of “Gloria (In Excelsis Deo)” off the Horses album, followed by a live version of “We’re Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together.” It would make sense to start off with her group since they were considered the first “punk” band to be recorded…though I do wonder who filmed the footage since not only was Kral in the band, but there are shots of him playing. Anyway…

The Ramones

Other major bands flow into each other visually, with the songs starting abruptly. That’s no issue at all, though I thought it would be good to have some kind of crawl that said which band was which, rather than just waiting until the end credits. But that’s punk, do what’s unexpected, right? Patti flows into Television’s “Little Johnny Jewel (Parts I and II)” (with a shot of Terry Ork for good measure, who released the single on his own Ork Records), and then to theRamones playing over only live recordings as their seminal eponymous album had not yet been released. It was interesting to hear them doing a song that would show up on their second album. Then there are the likes of Talking Heads. 

Wayne County

The second section is the next level of bands, or first-level Max’s groups, such as the trendsetting Wayne County, The Miamis, Harry Toledo, the Marbles (one of my favorites back then, doing almost a music video), the Shirts, and Tuff Darts (with Robert Gordon).

The third is an odd mix of non-venue related footage (though the music concept stays the same) of bands such as backstage. There is also the post-Thunders/Jerry Nolan New York Dolls that focuses only on David Johansen while “Funky But Chic” plays, and there is the Hell version of the Heartbreakers to end it with the title song. The Dolls were kind of the midwife to the New York punk scene, and the Hell version of the Heartbreakers almost the transition into the now more infamous version of the band.

I’m proud to say I have seen all of these bands perform live save two (Miamis and Tuff Darts, though I did interview the founder and lead guitarist, Jeff Salen). When I first saw the film at its premiere, I was a bit flustered by the dissonance between the footage and the sound, but over the years, I have come to admire it. Many of the songs are not shown all the way through (cut short or edited), but it just means more songs. The film is a treasure.

IMDB listing HERE 

 

 

Miki Zone of THE FAST Sings Gene Pitney [1985]

Text by Julia Masi / FFanzeen, 1985 / 2021
Images from the Internet unless indicated

Miki Zone Sings Gene Pitney

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #13, dated 1985. It was written by Julia Masi.

The Fast essentially went through four phases, starting in the early 1970s and ending well into the 1980s. At the core of The Fast were three Brooklyn brothers: Armand “Mandy” Zone (keyboards, vocals), Miki Zone (guitar and vocals), and Paul Zone (vocals). The first phase was before Paul joined the band; I saw them play the bandshell in Prospect Park around 1973 or ’74. Next was the Fast’s golden era (in my opinion), when they were on the Live at Max’s Kansas City album, doing songs like “Kids Just Wanna Dance,” “Boys Will Be Boys,” and “It’s Like Love.” The third was after Mandy left to form his own band, Ozone, when the Fast became more metal and leather based. They did the same songs, but a lot stronger without Mandy’s pop synth. The last was when Miki and Paul became a Eurobeat twosome with a strong gay focus called Man 2 Man (though originally called Man’s Favorite Sport for a brief moment).

Through all this, Miki’s guitar was a fireball, as he mastered the craft and he became one of the most underrated guitarists on the New York scene. Not surprisingly, he became bored playing the same notes and the same songs, so he would improvise, such as using the eraser ends of pencils to play rather than a pick.

Miki also had some side gigs going on, with a solo project of singing the songs of the great Gene Pitney (d. 2006). Miki died in 1986, and Mandy in 1993. – RBF, 2021

 

Miki Zone in The Fast (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

In any medium, the most difficult part of performing is interpreting someone else’s material, so that it remains fresh and intact, while still allowing individuality and talent to surface. In an era when cover songs are the junk food of our musical menu and “incredible simulations” infest the stage and screen, it’s rare and refreshing to find a performer like Miki Zone, who honors his idols without imitating them.

Last Spring, Miki Zone’s Gene Pitney Review slipped into the New York club circuit without enough fanfare. It’s a short (approximately one hour) cabaret act that’s campy, classy and reveals another side of Miki: his voice!

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that Miki can sing. Nothing he does should surprise his fans after all the musical styles he adapted and discarded over the years, with his brother Paul, in The Fast. But throughout his career, he’s always been known as an instrumentalist and songwriter with a distinctive style. A style that, unfortunately, has yet to be rewarded in the mainstream markets.

Gene Pitney in his heyday, was very heavily absorbed into the mainstream. He is most often remembered for “Town Without Pity,” but he also wrote several dozen Top-40 tunes for himself and people like Roy Orbison, Rick Nelson, the Crystals, and Steve Lawrence. He had a country hit with George Jones, as well as numerous hits in foreign countries that he sang and recorded in almost every language.

Mandy Zone, Paul Zone, Miki Zone

According to the fact sheet that Miki graciously compiles for interviews, Pitney “played all his own instruments on his first single, “I Wanna Love My Life Away,” and would over-dub seven of his voices on the record.” The most interesting item on the list, however, claims that he was “an amateur taxidermist,” a hobby that probably fostered many weepy love songs. He dropped out of the public eye about a decade ago and, since then, there have been only vague rumors concerning his whereabouts or career. [Ed. Note: Pitney died after a performance in Wales, and is buried where he lived in Connecticut. – 2021]

“I don’t want to be a messenger to the masses,” explains Miki, “but it feels good to have people react to the things that they like.” Part of the reason why this act is entertaining is that you don’t have to be a die-hard Pitney fan to appreciate it. In fact, you don’t even have to know who he is to enjoy it. The set is filled with familiar, catchy pop ditties that have been nestled in the cobwebs of our brain for ages. And Miki is not a Gene Pitney clone. He may be able to croon in the same key as the eclipsed star, and dress in the elegant smoking jackets of that era, but only the blind could confuse their faces. Miki’s eyes are riveting. They’re like tiny, brown computer screens beaming with information until he hears a dumb question, then they abruptly shut down to an icy darkness. Luckily, a sincere inquiry – like why would a talented songwriter want to sing someone else’s lyrics – flicks their light switch back on.

“I’ve got a big romantic part of me which I’ve never brought out in the music, which I’m starting to do now. I’ve written a lot of things like that which I’ve never performed. I’ve never used them in any of my past groups.

“I always had an affection for… would you call it torch singing? Or crooning? Not crooning like Alfalfa, but like, crooning like the way Gene Pitney did it. He could sing a rock song like “I’m Gonna Love My Life Away,” or “Hello, Mary Lou,” and he would also sing a ballad like “Town Without Pity” or “Half Heaven, Half Heartache” and still make you wanna cry. Those emotions used to amaze me in any singer, even female singers like Dusty Springfield. People like that amaze me with the way they can milk all your emotions. I always felt that I could do that. Wanted to do that. And that’s what I’m doing. I used to try to emulate his voice. I used to be able to sing like that for years, but I never had a chance to sing in any of my rock bands. I never would sing. It was always up to my brothers (Paul and Armand) to sing.

“The reason I am doing Gene Pitney is it’s a tackling thing to do. He’s got an amazing voice. I’m not saying I can sing like him, but I hang in there with the notes, and I’m proud of that!

“There’s a lot of things in me that I don’t want to have to be Miki Zone to keep on changing them. I’ve changed many, many times over the years. I’ve put The Fast through heavy metal, through glitter rock, through pop, through punk, through many different things. What I did wrong, I’d say, is that it should have been a different group each time. That would have saved a lot of problem and a lot of egos, and a lot of people’s confusion. I should have called it something different every time I went in a different direction. I have a lot of those ambitions to do different kinds of music and I don’t want to be stuck under one name doing it. I’m not in the position of David Bowie, where I can do what I want and still be the chameleon. I have too many other things in my head that I want to do and be. I think I can do them under different titles, ‘cause none of them will step on each other.

Gene Pitney

“The Gene Pitney thing is just the beginning of the acts I’m gonna do. I think I’m gonna be doing a couple of other acts of different people’s materials; other singers, because I like to sing as much as I like to play an instrument. And I just want to get it out of me. It’s just satisfaction for me. Maybe it’s ego, too, to see people enjoying me doing things. I’ve got the best reactions, I think, ever in my career, since I’ve been doing the Gene Pitney thing, just through the response of people.

“I’d rather have different outlets for different things. And if one of them works out better than the others, I’ll follow that one up. But me and my brother will always work together.” Paul and Miki now have a band called Man’s Favorite Sport. Paul is very supportive of his brother’s solo endeavors, and usually helps out with the lights.

Although he’s trying to keep the identities of his other solo personas a secret, Miki has mentioned that one of them will be Bruno Beats, an original character who sings all of Miki’s “romantic, lush pop things. It’s going to be very pop, maybe ‘60s. All the things I wouldn’t use in the group.”

 

 

FFuture FFile reprinted from FFanzeen Magazine, Part 1 [1981-83]

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2021

Images from the Internet, unless indicated

One of the reasons I started my print fanzine in 1977, was to help publicize the unknown bands that I was going to see in the clubs that did not get enough notice. In the early 1980s, I started a column called “FFuture FFile,” which were short blurbs about new and up-and-comers, so the musicians could use it for publicity. They were written by different authors. Below, I have reprinted the musicians or bands in alphabetical order (rather than chronologically, and by first name if a single artist), who wrote it, and in which year/issue, the piece was published. Even though they had varying levels of success, they all deserved some notice. On occasion, I will add an update at the end of the particular pieces. Where I can, I will attach a photo and/or video.

Photo (c) RBF

Boy’s Life

By Robert Barry Francos

Issue 8; 1981

When they first started playing out in February 1980, Boy’s Life were too young to be patrons in most of the bars they played. They named themselves after the offical Boy Scout magazine, and used to appear on stage in Scout uniforms. Well, they’ve matured over the almost two yeas and no long wear uniforms, but their initial excitement is still present. This Boston-based (Malden, actually) band didn’t make much of a mark in New York until they opened for Stiff Little Fingers at the Peppermint Lounge. At first, the audience wasn’t impressed with these young guys and showed them such by (quite tackily) throwing cherries at them. But by the time Robert Weiner (drums), Joe McCormack (bass), Neal Sugarman (sax), and John Surette (lead singer and guitar) were ending their act, the audience gave them a rousing cheer – in fact, to bring them back for an encore. They surprised all. While up in Boston this last Memorial Day, I got a chance to see Boy’s Life at the Rat, in their natural habitat (i.e., Boston) and quite honestly, New York has no idea how exciting this band can be. We’ve never seen them at their best, even when they opened for Echo & the Bunnymen at the Ritz in October. Their influences are obvious: Clash, Jam and Pistols; and not obvious: Beatles, Who, and Kinks. With a few independent records to their name, they have been listed as one of the top unsigned bands in the country by a number of top music mags. Boy’s Life is constantly growing, and their popularity increases as well. Their latest single, “Two Doors Down” and “I Found Her” is now available.

[John Surette has been in bands such as the Deniros and the Ex-Girlfriends, and appears in on-stage rock operas in the Boston area. – RBF, 2021]

Photo (c) RBF

The Corpsicles

By Julia Masi

Issue 9; 1982

Over the oversized graphic of a menacing-looking popsicle, the Corpsicles – Philip Freeze, vocals and guitar; Luke Warm, bass, and Mike Leary, drums – knock out a sound that they call “straight-drivin’-through-New York stuff.” They’re reminiscent of the Ramones and the Heartbreakers at their best, with the essence of hardcore and a strong aura of originality that lets their tongue-in-cheek style put them in a class all their own. Right now, Philip writes all the songs, like “Sex with You,” “Poison Blood,” “Confusion,” and “Don’t Judge Me,” and dedicates them to the depressed, the mentally ill, and vampires. “The whole Corpsicles idea,” Philip explains, “is that you have to be an individual. And people that are individuals are sort of repressed. I like people that are off the wall. It’s good to be a little mentally ill.” He describes the band as a sort of free arrangement. I like to get out there and give it all I have. It’s this expression; if everyone expresses themselves to the fullest, it’s just this energy. As long as I see progress, I’m happy. You really have to stick it out. I just want to have a good time playing. We try. We like a lot of different types of music. But this what we do.” And they do it well.

The Cosmopolitans

By Stacy Mantel and Alan Abramowitz

Issue 7; 1981

“A lot of music that people are dancing to is depressing. Today, people are in a horrible depression,” says Jamie Sims, vocalist and songwriter for the Cosmopolitans. And her prescription for rock’n’roll health is to “present an idea of a party rather than a serious thing.” They proved this with their single “How to Keep Your Husband Happy” b/w “Wild Moose Party,” on Shake Records. A hit with Vassar coeds among others, “Husband Happy” epitomizes this sentiment; that parody, fun, and rock’n’roll can co-exist. Jamie got the idea from an early ‘60s Debbie Drake record that Nel Moore (co-lead vocalist, who doubles on metal pot and baton) gave her, which lists ways to keep the hubby hooked. “I didn’t make them up, they’re real,” says Jamie. “It was so ridiculous. I had to do something.” The Cosmopolitans are Jamie and Nel, lead vocals; David Itch, guitar; Evan “Funk” Davies on drums (and host of WNYU’s New Afternoon show); and Fran Kowalski on keyboards. Jamie and Nel had a modest start in rock’n’roll as go-go girls for the dBs and the Fleshtones, and they plan to give dancing lessons at upcoming gigs. However, it may be difficult to dance instead of watching two girls in pink fringy min-skirts bopping about, but Jamie isn’t really bothered: “I just pretend it’s a party, and not everyone’s gonna dance.” So be prepared to learn the Frug, Jerk, Fly, et. al.

The Donny Fury Band

By Stacy Mantel

Issue 7; 1981

The Donny Fury Band is a lively mix of crazies who also happen to have fun with electronic guitars and such. If, perchance, you are able to catch the multi-colored, leather-clad quartet at the local haunt, you will be entertained in a fashion not unknown to us. The group tries its best to bring audience participation to a peak; Donny offers the mic to a frenetic-looking individual right near the stage or dives in and hunts for one of the congregation. “We do whatever strikes our fancy,” Donny states. DFB includes one Cee Cee on vocals (who also manages CBGBs); Donny Fury (who also has his own recording studio where they produced their single, “Plastic Man” b/w “Wild West”) is the guitarist; along with Pat Dime on drums and Jeff Hosang on bass. They create a sound which Cee Cee describes as “very pop and vocal-oriented with importance place on harmonies. “We’re not just a band to listen to, we’re a visual stage show, as well.” One of their songs features Donny on slide guitar, using a vibrator; and when that isn’t available, he’ll use a big, bright banana, instead. Did I hear someone whisper “phallic”?

Fats Deacon and the Dumbwaiters

By Stacy Mantel

Issue 7; 1981

“Rock’n’roll got so far away, it was hard to communicate with it,” says Fats Deacon, front man and keyboardist for Fats Deacon and the Dumbwaiters, one of the more thrilling rock’n’roll bands to hit the scene in years. “Everything’s been done (in music) so now everyone just wants to enjoy it.” There’s something real and human about the gimmickless Dumbwaiters. Their songs are about kids in the streets and real-life melodrama/mediocrity. Their single, “Two by Four” b/w “American Boy,” on Songshop Records, is a prime example of Deacon’s desire to “touch the audience and relate to them.” Fats, who describes his music as “American,” says “We’re a mixture between Meat Loaf and Little Richard; very powered rock’n’roll, but not shallow.” He claims that rock’n’roll got away from the audiences, and that synthesizers took the human feel out of it. As well as “cleaning up” rock’n’roll by singing songs about reality vs. fantasy, the group features Addle Murray on tenor sax. Her horn blows everyone away. Ex-MC5 and Gang War member Wayne Kramer returns on guitar, with Denny Reynolds on bass and Joey Bones on drums. Fats, whose influences include Jerry Lee Lewis, Sly and the Family Stone, and Springsteen, could comment for hours on the history of rock’n’roll’s racial segregation, and will fascinate anyone who inquires with this talented musician. If you wander into a club one night and hear them, you will probably be hooked.

Fred’s Band

By Lisle McKenty

Issue 7; 1981

After many tries, Columbia University has finally produced a band with more than just pretensions to rock’n’roll. It’s Fred’s Band, the “rockingest, boppingest hep cats,” claims one of their fans. Unlike various predecessors, this band has, and is, fun. Fred’s Band is led by Maximilian Dietshe on lead guitar, in fierce competition with rhythm guitarist Danny Ferrira. The vocals are handled with care and cunning by Steve Szilagyi, who double-threats on bass. This trio is backed-up by drummer Bob Wolf. Or maybe it’s them who back him up. Their tunes run half original and half covers. Their covers – from “Blue Suede Shoes” to some risky Beatles, all come off, well, sincerely. No matter how many times you heard them before, they’ll move your feet. But they are hardly a cover band. Their original tunes are well-crafted and show their idiom inside-out. In particular, “Lanky Frankie” and “Rockabilly Girlfriend” stand out. Fred’s Band is a rockabilly dance band, something you – and they – can never forget.

[At some point after this, Lisle was married for a while to Danny. – RBF, 2021]

Photo (c) RBF

Jo Marshall

By Robert Barry Francos

Issue 8; 1981

“Whaddya say we go down to CBGBs and catch the act tonight?”

“Whoz playin’?”

“Jo Marshall.”

“Never heard of ‘im. Who is he?”

“Not ‘he,” schmuck, she.”

“She!? I don’t know…she’s got a guy’s name.”

“A guy she sure ain’t. Trust me on that.”

“Cute, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Nice bod and weird eyes. Nice-weird.”

“Yeah, and I bet she can’t sing worth a shit and no one notices ‘cause of her looks.”

“Bullshit. And I can prove it: look-it, first time she went into a studio, a fan of hers did backup. You know who that was? Joey Ramone. Yeah, and Elvis wrote a song called ‘Mighty Man’ for her.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“No, asshole. I mean Costello.”

“So did I.”

“Anyways, she went over to England and did some recording at Nick Lowe’s studio. Hey, and are you ready for this; she uses a steel-petal guitar in her band. Only it don’t sound nothing like some shit-kicker band. They really do some great kickass rock’n’roll. There’s Ed Bierley on petal-steel, Jerry Mitnick on bass, Carl Nelchloss on lead guitar and David Rosenberg on drums, and they’re great. Songs are great, too. My fave’s ‘Stop Looking at Her.’”

“Whadda we waitin’ for?”

[I had heard that Jo passed away, but have not found any information on it online. – RBF, 2021]