Trying Hard to CLASH: Rude Boy Review [1980]

Text by Lisle McKenty / FFanzeen fanzine, 1980

Introduction by Robert Barry Francos © FFanzeen blog, 2018

Images from the Internet

This review was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #6, dated Year-End 1980. It was written by Lisle McKenty. The article below was based on seeing the Clash’s 1980 film Rude Boy.

In the very early 1980s, Lisle worked in the same office as me, and we didn’t really know each other well, as she was the assistant to my boss, who kept her apart from the staff. One day, at about three in the afternoon, I was having my daily fix of wake-up tea, and Lisle walked by. Under her breath, she murmured, “Boy was in a hallway drinking a glass of tea.” My ears immediately perked up. I stated, “From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating.” She whipped around, shocked that anyone knew the secret of Patti Smith, and we became close friends for a few years after that. Our boss was not happy about it.

As for the Clash themselves, my friend Nancy Neon and I had tickets in 1981 to see them play in Times Square at Bonds Casino, which is around the same time period as meeting Lisle. Nancy found out that the Rockats were recording their Live at the Ritz album the same night. We both easily agreed to scalp the tickets (at no profit as we were in a rush) in Front of Bonds, and then we rushed down to the Ritz to see an amazing rockabilly set. – RBF, 2018

Rude Boy comes under the heading, “A Michael White Presentation.” Michael White’s London productions list includes Oh! Calcutta!, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, The Rocky Horror Show, A Chorus Line, and Annie…  His previous films include Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Jabberwocky. Wild stuff. He’s big time.

David Mingay and Jack Hazan directed and produced Rudy Boy. You have to wonder about Jack Hazen. For an ex-cameraman, his shot sequencing is that of a film illiterate. Of course, I don’t know a lot about English films; I’m not what you would call a buff. David Mingay supposedly is. He studied English literature at Cambridge, then spent a year doing Film and Drama at Bristol. He also directed and edited a thirteen-part TV series, “Cinema: The Amazing Years (1897-1916)” before starting Rude Boy.

Rude Boy is distributed by Atlantic Releasing Corporation. Shall I bring up a fairly famous lyric-shall-we-call-it that says something about Atlantic?

As all the ads promised, the Clash is “in” Rude Boy. But how can you get guaranteed personality when you’re lost in the supermarket? Rude Boy is not about the Clash. It’s about Ray Gange [who also co-wrote the film – RBF, 2018], who roadies (don’t get confused) for the Clash when he’s not working in the Soho sex shop that passes for local color. There is also an obscure subplot, but I’ll get to that later. Well, Ray’s in California now, by the way of the money Hazan and Mingay paid him, and Freddy Laker. He has a Green Card, a job as a construction worker, and an American wife. I hope he’s happy. At least, I hope he doesn’t try any more flicks. Somebody please, I hope he doesn’t start a band. Time to go back to anonymity [he mostly DJs now, with a rare acting gig – RBF, 2018]. His best point might be said to be that he is from Brixton. And he did seem to like the Clash, even if his most memorable utterance was when he said to Joe Strummer, “Left-wing is gonna fuck everybody up.”

Ray’s best scenes, and the best in the movie, are the scenes of the Clash playing. No surprise if you’ve ever seen the Clash (and so what if it was over the screen at The Ritz). They’re electrifying. This dumb artsy flick doesn’t even begin to make sense visually or literally. Then you read in the paper that twenty minutes of the original film were cut (must have been the part that explained the subplot – I half-wondered what was up with those pick-pocketing scenes and the subsequent arrest of that Black guy).

Then again, maybe Hazan and Mingay thought that playing the first eight bars of “Revolution Rock” twenty times in less than two hours would drive an audience into an inspired punk madness.  Hazan and Mingay see punk as a “phenomena of the working class consciousness” and a “fusion of New York white punk and England’s polarized reggae, disco, and rock.” They don’t feel it.

The Clash has been there. They formed in 1976, when Joe Strummer (previously of the 101ers) joined up with Mick Jones and Paul Simonon, under the management of Bernard Rhodes, a partner of Malcolm McLauren, who “discovered” the Sex Pistols.  They toured as a support group to the Pistols on their Anarchy Tour of England, before pulling out in a dispute over the use of Swastika armbands. Topper Headon joined the band as drummer in 1978. The Clash on Parole Tour (featured in Rude Boy) shortly followed.

After their second LP, Give ‘Em Enough Rope was released, they split with Rhodes and announced self-government, with Caroline Coon as a representative (she’s the pretty blonde who travels with Mick and Paul on their pigeon-shooting charges in Rude Boy [she also wrote the excellent book 1988: The New Wave Punk Rock Explosion – RBF, 2018]). They toured the US twice in 1979, completing London Calling, and began a new formal management with Blackhill Enterprises.

Without a doubt, the funniest line in Rude Boy is when Strummer tells Gange that the Brigade Rossi (the Red Brigade) is an Italian restaurant. Rude Boy did try to give an impression that the Clash are revolutionaries. In the film, their performance at the Rock Against Racism concert almost causes a riot (helped by Gange) and audience control is near disaster at Glasgow when Strummer sings “White Man Looking for Fun.” Then there were Gange’s political conversations with the band, but I’ve already given an example of those.

It seems like a million people have asked me if I think the Clash sold out with London Calling. To tell the truth, I’ve wondered a bit myself when I saw the Clash up there on a wall, in-between Linda Ronstadt and KISS, in a suburban record rip-off store. It was nice back in the old days, having them to ourselves. But everything depends on what you mean by selling out.

Selling out usually means trading musical and lyrical quality and morality for commercial success. London Calling is better produced than The Clash or Give ‘Em Enough Rope, let alone the singles (it took me weeks to understand any lyrics on ”White Riot”). “Revolution Rock” is not “Clash City Rockers.” The Clash have contained, purified and polished their riot on London Calling.

“Lost in the Supermarket” is at once more subtle, more pointed, and funnier than “I’m So Bored With the USA” (not that I don’t love “Bored…”). “Spanish Bombs” won’t get airplay in Spain or in any other of what I call non-countries. If “Guns of Brixton” doesn’t incite you, then nothing will. The Clash have retained and strengthened their sense of “unreal politick” and their sense of humor. They haven’t turned us off with any cloying songs, like “Alison” [a song of Elvis Costello I like – RBF, 2018], or distorted reggae to the extent of the Police. In London Calling, they haven’t traded a thing. Just check out “Working for the Clampdown”: “Kick over the wall / Cause governments to fall / How can you refuse it?... / To these days of evil presidents / Working for the clampdown.”

Paul and Caroline

So if they aren’t a sellout crew (and they’re not), why did the Clash participate in Rude Boy? By the time of Clash on Parole, they were packing houses all over England, and their first LP had appeared a year earlier in 1977. Well, until recently, the Clash was denied airplay on both the BBC and Capitol Radio networks (maybe it was just Mick’s affiliation with the Shepherds Bush anarchists?).

As far as I know, they have been continually in debt to their record company, CBS (Epic’s just a trademark). I don’t know if Mingay and Hazan first approached Ray Gange, or the Clash, to make the film, but I’ve got a horrible feeling it was Gange.

In any case, these people wanted to make a “serious film” about punk rock and the working-class consciousness. A band’s a band and a gig’s a gig; the Clash needed the PR, the money, and they wanted the platform. And as far as a sell-out goes, didn’t I use the term “commercial success”?

Rude Boy was made two years ago. Obviously, Mick and Paul and Joe and Topper were a lot less sophisticated than they are now. In my mind, hell, they were damned naïve. Maybe I can blame it on Caroline Coon (or was it Rhodes?). Rude Boy is a terrible flick, excluding the music scenes (“I Fought the Law” was especially great), made by terrible people, in my book.

To bring in the inevitable Beatles comparison (are you ready?), it’s like when Brian Epstein stuck them in suits, albeit without collars. I don’t feel bad panning Rude Boy, and I’m a Clash fanatic. If you like the Clash, then you’re like me – you’ll go see it anyway. If not, maybe you should listen to “Jimmy Jazz” or “The Right Profile” for a while.

To conclude: I often wear a tee-shirt proclaiming “The Clash: The only band that matters.” I’ve seen lots of others around on various other bodies. According to the rumor, the Clash now wants to make their own film. A terrific idea [didn’t happen – RBF, 2018]. Hopefully, next time they’ll make a worthy one – humor, politics, emotion, a riot – one that matters.

DVD Review: I Need a Dodge! – Joe Strummer on the Run

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015

Images from the Internet

I Need a Dodge!: Joe Strummer on the Run

Directed by Nick Hall

Tin Dog Productions / Cadiz Music / MVD Visual

67 minutes, 2015

www.CadizMusic.com

www.mvdvisual.com

If you have to ask who Joe Strummer is, well, you’re reading the wrong blog post. Honestly, he was the only one of the Clash I actually thought was cool (though Paul Simonon had his moments). That being said, the Clash started out as one of the biggest punk bands out of the English phase, and turned into one of the biggest disappointments. London Calling was a mixture of amazing work and commercial dreck, and by the time Combat Rock came out, I couldn’t listen to their stuff anymore. It was almost a relief when Strummer left the group around 1985.

Thanks kind of where this documentary really starts to pick up. I didn’t realize that Strummer headed for Spain; he had a fling with an Iberian woman early in his career, learned some Spanish, and fell in love with the country.

While there, Joe hooked up with a band in Granada called the 091. This seemed ironic, since his first recordings in England were with the similarly titular number-oriented and underrated 101ers. Pre-Joe, the 091 considered themselves punk, but musically I would say they were closer to the New Romantics pop, along the lines of Simple Minds or Tears for Fears (at least in the short clip we see of an early incarnation of the band). Gathering a popular Spanish band called Radio Futura, he then recorded with them as well.

Most of the members of these bands, and other friends from that period and before, are interviewed in the film, which is mostly recorded in Spanish in oral history mode, meaning there are no questions heard to be asked, just the participants telling their stories. There are some nicely done captions in English with a few other languages available. Also included is a Spanish version of the film on the DVD as one of the extras, which I did not watch.

And where does the title of the film come in? Joe Strummer bought a Dodge (or Spanish knockoff, depending on the storyteller) while in the country, even though he had neither licence nor registration (in someone else’s name) and somehow he lost it by forgetting where it was parked. During a radio interview in Madrid, he mentions how he wants to find it, and there is the premise. It’s kind of a slim one as it’s not discussed all that much at the beginning, but that’s fine. What we get instead in a post-Clash Strummer who was mostly out of the Western Hemisphere’s eye, and this fills in the gaps quite nicely.

Most of the early part of the story is more of Joe’s involvement with the musicians, including trying to produce their LP and battles with the ill-equipped record label that was more used to classical Spanish music than anything as raucous as Joe would tip is toe into.

I like that the story has a few different layers, like a history of Strummer (d. 2002) in Spain, the involvement of the car, and also Strummer’s working with the Spanish bands. All these threads are conveyed by those who were there, rather than a third party, such as a journalist who had written about it.

At first, the car comes into the conversation on occasion, focusing more anecdotally of his involvement with the 091 and Radio Futura, but as the tale plays out, the focus lingers on the titular subject more. We watch the director become the focus as he looks for the mystery car. Does he find it? Well, I’m not tellin’.

There is a lot that is formulaic about the formatting of the film, with multiple talking heads, but it remains interesting because they were there, and stories about Joe tend to be never dull. Also, Nick Hall is wise enough to know that most likely the audience for this film will not know these musicians and friends, so the title captions for each person come up pretty often. Thank you for that.

Another smart choice is that Hall keeps the film relatively short. Rather than dragging it out, he gets to the point in a mostly enjoyable roundabout way, not focusing merely on the car or the musicians, but edits it in an ever growing arc that keeps the interest level high.

There are a bunch of extras that go with the DVD, including a stack of deleted interviews that are mostly around a minute long, with a couple being around 3 to 5 minutes, and a 25-minute one with Pete Howard and Nick Sheppard, two members of the reformed Clash (who talk in detail about Joe’s troubled relationship with manager Bernie Rhodes). Taking these out were right, but so was adding them into the extras.

Another two bonuses are audio tracks of interviews with Joe, one being 13 minutes from 1984, and the other is also 13 minutes, from 1997. Both are in Spanish with subtitles. As an extra bonus sweetener, this is interview is also on a cassette (you read right) that is included with the DVD box. Sure it takes up more space on the shelf, but hell, it really is cool, proving once again what Marshall McLuhan said, that replaced technologies come back as art. In this case I might say art as fuck.

BILLY IDOL: By Himself [1981 Interview]

Text by Marc Perton / FFanzeen fanzine, 1981
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

This interview was originally printed in FFanzeen, issue #8, dated 1981. It was conducted and written by Marc Perton.

While I never saw Michael Broad, aka Billy Idol perform live, somewhere there is a photo of his first solo band in New York City playing Max’s Kansas City. The drummer was Steve Missal, of the Ronnie and the Jitters band, and he is wearing a FFanzeen tee-shirt. I’ve also never seen this photo, so if you have a copy somewhere, as it was published in Billboard around the time of this interview, I’d love a copy of it.

Billy Idol was a bit of a contradiction to me. In the States, many saw him in his band Generation X as a British punker, but back in the U.K. he had a reputation for being a “pretty boy” poseur, even dating back to his time as part of the Bromley Contingent. Either way, “Your Generation,” an obvious answer to the Who’s “My Generation,” was a great song. Upon the split of the re-titled Gen X after a couple of critically lambasted albums, he moved to New York, had a short fling with a good friend of mine, and then hit it big.

Most of his solo stuff is pretty obnoxious, such as “Dancing With Myself” and “Rebel Yell.” His one-sided lip curl (one might call it a sneer), short dyed-blond hair (implemented by the Spike character in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series) and fist pump became iconic thanks in part to MTV’s repetition. Some of his solo releases are actually quite good, though, like his cover of “Mony Mony” and “White Wedding,” but it’s also ironic that in this interview he talks about how turning “heavy metal” is undesirable, but he ended up jumping on that wagon. Wisely, he collaborated with Steve Stevens, a whirlwind guitar player with more stage presence than him, and is still doing so today as he tours the world, quickly approaching his 60th birthday in November.

There is one brilliant comment below that actually helped me put the difference between British punk rock and American hardcore into perspective: “it's not the same as English punk rock, because it's about how much more problems it is having things than not having them.“ For that, he’ll always have a bit of my respect. – RBF, 2015

The end was this January, when Billy Idol, almost without prior warning, left Generation X (or “Gen X” as they had taken for calling themselves). Billy left England for New York, where he began working with Bill Aucoin [d. 2010], the manager of KISS. Tony James, Billy’s songwriting partner in Gen X, did an interview shortly thereafter in which he claimed that Billy left the group quite suddenly, and that he only found out in advance “by accident.”

On this side of the Atlantic, Billy went through what his management called “five months of self-abuse” while getting used to New York. Suddenly, he released a single and began to speak to the press, who had denied a rebuttal to the charges against him. I spoke with him and found that his time in New York hasn’t consisted entirely of self-destruction.

But, first, the means.

Generation X was one of the countless punk rock bands that sprang up, almost out of nowhere, in England in late 1976. Billy idol, a member of the “Bromley Contingent,” the original Sex Pistols fan club, met up with Tony James, formerly of the London S.S., a garage band which featured, among others, the Clash’s Mick Jones, Billy and Tony, along with a singer named Gene October, who formed the group Chelsea. The band didn’t work, and Billy, Tony, and drummer John Towe left to form Generation X, along with guitarist Bob “Derwood” Andrews. Towe soon left the group and was replaced by Mark Laff. After gigging around England for a few months, the group released their first single, “Your Generation,” which was followed by an album, Generation X. The group attracted quite a sizeable following in England, where young audiences flocked to hear their anthems, “100 Punks,” “Wild Youth,” and others. They were branded “pop-punk,” and Billy’s face was splashed all over British teen magazines. Generation X was released in 1978 in America to an enthusiastic response, but the group never toured here.

In 1979, while in the midst of legal proceedings to end their relationship with their manager, Stewart Joseph, they released their second album, the much criticized Valley of the Dolls. Produced by Ian Hunter, the album marked a major stylistic change for the group. Anthems were replaced by heavy metal guitar solos and the one song on the album which retained a hint of the original Generation X style, “King Rocker,” became immortalized as an example that not all loud, fast music can be danced to. In spite of the many complaints against it, the album featured some of Billy’s best vocals (notably on “Paradise West” and “The Prime of Kenny Silvers”), and also stands as possibly the most workable synthesis of punk rock and heavy metal to date.

After Valley, Andrews and Laff left the group, and for a year, it seemed that Generation X was no more. In mid-1980, however, tales of a new Gen X began to surface. The new group was reputed to feature various guitarists, including ex-Sex Pistol Steve Jones, ex-Magazine/Siouxie and the Banshees John McGeoch [d. 2004], and ex-Rich Kids Steve New [d. 2010]. Also to be featured in the group was former Clash member Terry Chimes, on drums.

The rumors proved to be not without validity, and the third Gen X album, Kiss Me Deadly, was released in late 1980. The album featured a return to pop, in the form of “Dancing With Myself” (which has been released in four versions, on eight different records). The group did a brief tour of small clubs in England with former Chelsea guitarist James Stephenson, and then Billy left. That’s my story. Here is his:

FFanzeen: How do you like New York?

Billy Idol: It’s great.

FFanzeen: What have you been doing with your time here?

Billy: Well, to be honest, I’ve been getting to know it, really. It’s a foreign country. In America, people think completely different from English people. Their whole attitude toward things is a hell of a lot different.

FFanzeen: For instance…

Billy: For instance, people in America really believe that they are creating the history of the world, while in England they’re just watching what’s’ going on. If you apply this to every form of life it makes a totally different thing. In England, the green grocer just things he’s selling fruit. The block here thinks he’s feeding the world.

FFanzeen: How do you think things are musically different here?

Billy: Of course it’s the same thing; there’s a totally different approach to music. Music here isn’t seen as something quite so serious. It can be fun as well as serious; whereas in England, people sort of make everything serious – it’s culturally stemming from some class system or something. Things can be superficial here without necessarily being bad.

FFanzeen: Your music was often more fun than serious.

Billy: Well, yeah, that’s right. Not to say that we weren’t serious, but we were interested in it being fun, because I like fun things. In some ways we were quite American in our approach, in that at times we would play candy music for candy’s sake. Other times it was deadly serious, never more so than in “Kiss Me Deadly,” which totally typified British life. And “Dancing With Myself” is totally New York. It’s just completely Quaaluded out zombie-like dance music. I don’t mean that it’s for stupid people or anything like that. I just mean that it’s got the total –

FFanzeen: Blind dance beat?

Billy: Yeah, almost like you’re never gonna stop. It’s always gonna go, Bomp bap! Bomp bap! Bomp bap! It’s about people dancing crazily, almost with themselves, because it’s easier. That’s the way you get when you get zombied out[I wonder if he uses zombies in his video for the song out of an idea he had before, or that was enlightened in this interview; see video below – RBF, 2015]. I think that’s great. That’s what I believe in. All my life I’ve got completely wrecked. Ever since I was fourteen, I’ve got drunk, pilled out, or something, so a lot of the music we made was purely because we were into high-energy excitement and watching audiences go completely crazy; jumping up and down, ripping each other to shreds, having a great time, going home and saying, “Cor! Wasn’t it fun tonight! A bit more exciting than working in the factory!” Sometimes candy music’s worthwhile because people really have great fun. But Gen X did say things, too. Like “Kiss Me Deadly” really typified British life in 1977.

FFanzeen: Is that why you called the new album Kiss Me Deadly?

Billy: Well, in a way, it was more of a joke, really. I knew it was the last one. “Kiss the group deadly.”

FFanzeen: You knew you were going to leave the group when the album came out?

Billy: Yeah.

FFanzeen: How about claims by Tony James that you didn’t tell the group you were leaving until the last minute?

Billy: Well, I didn’t say that much, I’ve got to admit – but I didn’t think it was any of their business, really. It was a lot to do with the record coming out. I more or less told Chrysalis that if they didn’t put it out that we’d have a big barmy over it; you know, we’d have trouble. And I said it wasn’t fair to the other people in the group not to put it out ‘cause we had worked on it for a year, and I had just worked at it for a month trying to make it sound good. So I made them put it out, and that’s why I couldn’t say that much to the other members of the group; ‘cause they would have said, “We don’t wanna play,” or something. And we had to do the tour to get them to put the album out. We had to do something to support it. So I did all of it a bit underhanded at first. We got the album out, and everyone like Tony and Terry, and James Stephenson and John McGeoch got paid back for being on it. I only really told them after the album was out and all we had left to do was a TV thing. The tour was over. And I think even they could see, from the way the tour went, the way we were playing together –

FFanzeen: How did the tour go?

Billy: It was pretty good. It was probably better than the Valley of the Dolls stuff. But it just wasn’t that exciting. We played really good, so [the audience] were really excited by it, but I don’t think it would have gone any further. But that’s ‘cause of the way the group was. We just weren’t feeling good. And I just wanted to get the energy back, and I wanted to do it with other people. And playing with John McGeoch, Steve Jones, makes you seem – there’s this guy, he comes in and rocks on your songs; he gets excited. He really likes it! Steve Jones is going, “I wanna play on it!” Steve New – completely out of his head – but he’s still trying to play it. Great! You start thinking, these people are excited by it, that’s who I wanna be with. Tony and them, well obviously they’re excited, but we’ve all been in that little thing for so long that it was crushing us. So [with new people] it’s good fun. When we get to the audience, we’d give them what Generation X originally gave people, which was like four blokes saying, “Yeah! Don’t stop! Come on! Always get drunk if you want to! Chaos and get away with it!” The whole thing – we loved it. But we had lost it by the time we were playing the last stuff.

FFanzeen: So you’re working by yourself now. You have a new single out, right?

Billy: Yeah. It’s an old Tommy James song called “Mony Mony,” and a new one called “Baby Talk.”

FFanzeen: You used to do “Mony Mony” with Generation X.

Billy: Well, Gen X learned it, but we only ever did it twice in a soundcheck, and it was with me playing guitar because Derwood didn’t really want to do it.

FFanzeen: How come you didn’t play guitar on the first two Generation X albums?

Billy: Well, I really believe in “everybody does their bit,” and you don’t step on someone else. At that time the whole idea was to get back to basics, so if I’m gonna be the singer, I’m gonna be the singer. If he’s gonna be the guitarist, he’s going to play guitar. Now, I might think up some bits which I’d show him, but he’s gonna play them, ‘cause the whole basic idea was to get everybody doing their role to the utmost. I play on the new album, on “Untouchables” and on “Happy People,” and a few tracks there. On the last tour I played quite a bit of guitar and got bored with it.

FFanzeen: How much of the music did you write in Generation X?

Billy: I wrote all of it.

FFanzeen: And Tony wrote the lyrics?

Billy: Yeah, he wrote all the lyrics on the first album, except for “Listen” and “Too Personal.”

FFanzeen: Neither of which appeared on the domestic [American] album.

Billy: Yeah. “Too Personal” was replaced by “Gimme Some Truth,” which was unpopular at the time because it was a John Lennon song, which was, like, old wave. He wasn’t hip in England at that time.

FFanzeen: Why did you record it?

Billy: Well, I did it because it said the right thing. Most punks didn’t realize it was a John Lennon song.

FFanzeen: How were you affected by John Lennon’s death [December 8, 1980 – RBF, 2015]?

Billy: I was a John Lennon fan, and I was a bit upset that he got shot. He made some great records; “Jealous Guy” and a lot of those ones. And a lot of Beatles stuff was good. I do think he was great. I just think it’s a bit sick that mad people shoot John Lennon, and fail when it comes to others.

FFanzeen: Meaning the president and the Pope [Ronald Reagan and John Paul II, respectively – RBF, 2015]?

Billy: Yeah, that’s right.

FFanzeen: What do you think of them?

Billy: He’s a two-bit actor who’s having a laugh on everybody. He’s got the biggest role and he’s enjoying it. And the Pope hasn’t done anything. He’s just letting the status quo stay the same. He looks smooth, going around everywhere, but he doesn’t affect anybody in the Vatican with any real power; they go along exactly as they always did. He’s like a pop star. People go “woo!” when they see him but don’t do anything after he’s gone.

FFanzeen: And Reagan?

Billy: Well, he’s very clever because underneath him he’s got all these millionaires who are secretly cultivating the economy, while he makes it look all smooth and pop-starry on top. And it’s cool for pop stars, but it’s not cool for politicians. But most Americans like him because he’s the American dream. And he’s more exciting than Jimmy Carter.

FFanzeen: So Americans have elected a pop star president. How do you feel about that?

Billy: Well, y’see, it’s almost so ridiculous that I admire it. You know that anybody can do it. And I do believe in all that. Anybody can be a pop star.

FFanzeen: Enough of American politics. What do you think of the music here?

Billy: I like the Bush Tetras. I think ESG’s [Emerald, Sapphire and Gold – RBF, 2015] brilliant. If I had a record label I’d put them on it.

FFanzeen: How about all these young [hardcore – RBF, 2015] punk groups that are sort of acting the way you did five years ago?

Billy: Well, it’s difficult for me to get into it really, because its’ not the same as English punk rock, because its’ about how much more problems it is having things than not having them. And also the fact that those people are writing about having lived in the local LA movement, or the local New York movement, whereas I’m writing about me, wherever I am, or about what I see around me.

FFanzeen: How about the kids themselves?

Billy: Well, I think they’re great because they’re really into having fun in a kind of good sort of way. New York’s a pretty tough place. It’s real expensive to live, so if these kids are walking round looking like – and they work anywhere to get the bread to say alive – it’s a real scavenger city, and that’s what I’ve always been, a bit of a scavenger. I’d always survive and scrape it together. And that’s what groups are, usually. They have their record contract, but it’s never enough money, and these people are always scrounging. These people are real good. They’ve got great attitudes. They’re really friendly and stuff. They don’t waste too much on snobbery, which you can get in London. But England has some great people. England, New York, L.A. – I’ve met some of the greatest people. Some real cruds as well.

FFanzeen: What do you think of these British bands like the Clash and [Adam and] the Ants, that have come over here and made it big?

Billy: I think it’s great, well, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it’s going to make it easier for me , because there are already people having similar stuff to what I do and it’s getting through on the airwaves, but it’s more because I think some of the stuff they do is good. It’s definitely preferable to REO Speedwagon.

FFanzeen: In England, punk rock was always more of a lower-class movement. How do you feel about being in America, where most of your audience is likely to be middle class?

Billy: It’s the same thing. They have to go to work and go through things they don’t really enjoy because either they haven’t got the talent to do what they really want to do, or they haven’t got the guts. I like going to the Ritz because there’s a lot of straight people out from New Jersey and places like that who are there to see the group because they like them.

FFanzeen: How did you get started in rock’n’roll?

Billy: Lots of reasons. For me, when the Beatles were 24, they said more to me than my dad who was 50, or something. Everything I liked he hated, so I thought, Christ! Either I’m right or I’m wrong. I’d better make up my mind. And I thought I’m right and I’m gonna like it. I proved that I know what I’m talking about. I can make people excited and do things for them and say things they find interesting. That’s what people who believe in the things we do have to do. We have to make other people accept us for it.

FFanzeen: Do you plan on staying in rock’n’roll for the rest of your life?

Billy: Probably, because I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last out living. It’s a lot of wear and tear. I don’t know if I’ll be doing it until I die. I think I’ll probably move onto something else. I might even go back to driving a van if I fancied. I did like driving a van; it was a laugh. But I’m gonna do it as long as I think I’ve got the energy and the right attitude. But if I ever thought I didn’t have the right attitude, I would just stop and disappear. I ain't gonna drag it out if it’s boring. That’s why I wanted to stop Generation X. I was getting bored with it. But I still got a lot in me, and there’s a lot to do. If I can push my things out to the people, and they get into it, they’ll start putting more things on the radio.

FFanzeen: Are you aiming for the mass media?

Billy: Of course. That’s what punk rock was all about: taking over. And that’s what I want to do here: Take over for the people who like music. I want to give them the opportunity not to always have to listen to REO Speedwagon; they never hear reggae here, they never hear simple rock’n’roll anymore. I don’t. It’s always heavy metal or something. It’s good to have Van Halen and all those sort of groups if you like them. But it’s great to have the Bush Tetras and ESG and Billy Idol and Johnny Rotten, and the Plastics [the Japanese band, not the more mundane, present one from South Africa – RBF, 2015]. It’s good to have everybody; Frank Sinatra [d. 1998] and all those cunts – everybody. And I just don’t think they are. You’ve got a big network out there, and not much going on. It seems a shame. I meet so many people who love it and they say, “Christ! Why is the radio so boring?” And I say I know what you mean – I thought England was bad! The whole thing about getting the power is that maybe we could put our own records out eventually, and maybe make it okay for our friends to get stuff out.

FFanzeen: “Billy Idol, record company executive”?

Billy: It wouldn’t be like that; wouldn’t think of it like that. I’d get somebody else to handle the business. But I wouldn’t mind if I had the money to put it somewhere that other people would use it. So that we could have some people out there helping to promote young groups who haven’t got any help.

FFanzeen: How did you get involved with Bill Aucoin?

Billy: Well, actually, Tony made a joke to one of the Chrysalis people, and they put us in touch with Bill Aucoin because they knew him. And we came out there and met him, and instead of him asking us the usual boring questions like, “Do you want to make a lot of money?”, he asked us the all-time classic: “Why are you doing it?”

FFanzeen: And you said –

Billy: We said we’re doing it ‘cause we’ve got something the people should have. We know how to make simple rock’n’roll.

FFanzeen: Why didn’t you ever tour America with Generation X?

Billy: Because things were never really right. We had a manager who was really more intent on having a Lamborghini than putting the money up for us to tour America. He was such a dork, such a fucking idiot, that he preferred to try to rip the record company and us off, instead of doing a little hard work.

FFanzeen: What were your problems with that?

Billy: I didn’t really like it because I felt completely divorced from it, and yet I did it, so it was my fault really. It was more like writing songs to order than doing them ‘cause you like them. We were in real trouble. I really wanted to get rid of Stewart Joseph [the band’s manager when Valley of the Dolls was released – MP, 1981]. That fucked things up a lot. And Ian Hunter, he was Tony’s idea, really, and I sort of went along with it, although I really liked Ian. It’s just that he ain’t right for me. I just didn’t like the way we were playing.

FFanzeen: Would you have preferred to do back to Martin Rushent [producer of the Generation X album – MP, 1981; d. 2011 – RBF, 2015]?

Billy: Well, really, I would have preferred to have stuck to the original Generation X style, which is what I made the group go back to.

FFanzeen: Well, you didn’t really go back to doing anthems or anything like that.

Billy: No, but we went back to simple guitar, simple bass, simple drums, rather than [turning to] heavy metal.

FFanzeen: What made you want to get the group back together and record Kiss Me Deadly?

Billy: It was a continuing attempt to go back to basics; and the other thing was, I didn’t want to leave Generation X with Valley of the Dolls.

FFanzeen: On Kiss Me Deadly, and even Valley of the Dolls, there are a lot more slow songs and ballads than on your first album. Do you plan to do a lot more slow songs in the future?

Billy: I want to do quite a lot more ballads, but not because they’re ballads. Certainly I’m not gonna do all slow songs live, it’s gonna be all fast ones. I couldn’t stand to do slow ones live; it gets boring. I’d like to do a couple more [slow songs] because I’m more adept at singing those things, and I’ve grown up slightly, so I can use it in what I’m doing. I ain't gonna ignore it, that would be pointless. That was the whole thing about punk rock: that you tell the truth, and if I’ve fallen in love, or this, that and the other thing, I ain't gonna keep pretending it’s not happening. I’ve gotta write about it because that’s what it’s still about for me. That’s why I’m still a punk rocker.

FFanzeen: When do you plan to start performing live?

Billy: I hope November. I hope we’ll have recorded some more stuff, too.

FFanzeen: Will you perform any of your old material live?

Billy: I’ll probably do “Dancing With Myself.” I might do “Wild Youth.” I’ll do some of my old stuff ‘cause it’s just as much me as anything else, but I’ll have to see what the group plays best, ‘cause it’s up to what they feel, too, really. It’s gonna take a while to get it to be as sophisticated as Generation X could be, like in “Happy People,” mixing reggae with rock.

FFanzeen: Is your new group going to be a real band, or just a bunch of people backing you up?

Billy: At first it’s gonna be mine, because the main inspiration is going to be coming from me. But if it works out properly, I hope we’ll be able to make an entity out of it. I don’t want four idiots playing with me.

FFanzeen: What does the future hold for you?

Billy: I ain’t gonna change. I’ve been wearing leather trousers too long to take them off now.

FFanzeen: You could get rich and buy some more pairs.

Billy: No, I’ve only had one pair. You only want one pair that you’ve worn for the past five years.

FFanzeen: In a simplistic sort of way, clothes are part of the Generation X image. You and Tony wore shredded, hand-painted t-shirts. That caught on, didn’t it?

Billy: Well, yeah, ‘cause it was something creative and yet simple. It was something that could be made at home. You don’t have to go out and buy an Adam and the Ants one; you can make your own Billy Idol one at home.

FFanzeen: Do you think you can get popular in America dressing like that?

Billy: I don’t know about that. Probably not.

FFanzeen: Will you change your image to get popular?

Billy: No, I’m only gonna be what I want – though I’ve got to admit I wear some flashy clothes sometimes – I don’t know. People are just touchy about too many things; they get jealous about too many things. I’m not particularly jealous about people. I don’t wish I was someone else, or wish I’ve got what someone else has got. Whatever I get, I get ‘cause I earned it. I’m not really bothered. It’s too much. They kept trying to make me bother at school and I wouldn’t. They kept telling me it was some sort of competition and I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now. I ain't competing with Johnny Rotten or Robert Plant. I don’t give a shit what they do. I’m just doing what I do; they can go and do what they do as long as they leave me alone. He [Rotten] says things about me and they laugh, and I say things about him and we all say things about each other, and when it comes down to it, we don’t give a bullock about what each other’s doing as long as we can do what we want. The people who really matter are the people who come to the gigs and get excited, and a lot of people in the odd little places in England where they get pretty bored ‘cause they work in a car factory and they don’t wanna see people come along and tell them how rotten it is. They want a few people to come along and say, “Look, it is rotten, but we’re gonna have a great time tonight,” and that’s what Generation X’s thing was. I’m up here playing to make myself feel good. We said, “Look, it’s rubbish. Don’t work in a factory if you don’t want to. Try and find something else.” But if you have to work in one, which a lot of kids in England have to do, you got give them something to think about when they were young. When we were young there was punk rock; at least I can say that.

FFanzeen: What direction do you think pop music is taking today?

Billy: Well, I hope it’s taking my direction. It’s just got to get a whole lot simpler. It’s not true that people haven’t got simple problems that can be expressed in two or three verses. A lot of American people don’t listen to their own people. I mean, if you listen to Jim Morrison, he says something totally different than heavy metal bands. He doesn’t say nonsense. So many American records, the heritage is so good. So many brilliant people who made some great records. What’s the point of listening to fuckin’ Led Zeppelin when you’ve got your own guys on your doorstep? There’s a lot of good things around. It just seems a shame that there’s not a lot of bands that are like the Dolls were for their time, or Lou Reed [d. 2013] was for his time, and Iggy was for his in Detroit. There’s not really a New York sound, but maybe that’s good. There’s the Cramps, Suicide.

FFanzeen: How about rockabilly?

Billy: I’m not interested in all that. I like the old records, if I’m gonna listen to it. It think they’re all gonna change pretty soon.

FFanzeen: How about you; are you going to change?

Billy: Not me. I’ll always be just pummelling it out in one way or another – but in different sort of ways.

* * *

Shortly after this interview was conducted, Billy’s Don’t Stop LP was released. Yes, Billy is still pummelling it out, in the same way, but differently. The record features “Mony Mony,” the powerful “Baby Talk,” and new mixes of two songs from Kiss Me Deadly: “Untouchables” (a superior version), and the ever popular “Dancing With Myself.” It looks like he just might make it now, and become a successful solo performer. What Tony James and the rest of Generation X will do now is not yet known (although Andres and Laff have an album out with an AOR group called Empire). Billy, however, for better or worse, is now truly dancing with himself. – MP, 1981

 

[Is it me, or is this video stunningly misogynistic? – RBF, 2015]

 

[Celia and the Mutations, aka the Stranglers, did a great version of this, as well – RBF, 2015]

 [Now, did I get it wrong that he insulted heavy metal in the interview? – RBF, 2015] 

DVD Review: ’83 US Festival: Days 1-3

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

 

’83 US Festival: Days 1-3

Directed by Glenn Aveni
MVD Visual
Unuson Corporation / Icon 
135 minutes, 1983 / 2009 / 2013
www.icontvmusic.com  
www.MVDvisual.com

Before there was Steve Jobs standing on a stage telling us we needed to buy cell phones and tablets, Apple was run by Steve Wozniak. He wanted to take his profits and, much like Sir Richard Branson of Virgin, do everything, Woz, as he was sometimes known, had the idea to spend his money on some tax shelters that he could use to spread the Apple name to the populace. I actually don’t mean it as cynical as it sounds, but you know what I’m sayin’.

The US Festival was a huge music event that drew an average of over 300,000 people per day, and had some of the world’s top musicians at the time, as well as those who were on the way up.

By the early ‘80s, hardcore had a shaky start and was totally not financially viable in any kind of way. Black Flag? Cro-Mags? GG Allin? No one heard of them on a national level, other than something like “…a riot at club so-and-so last night with so-and-so band was playing…”

Also, many bands I was interested in had turned a corner of popularity and had lost my attention. I mean, after the London Calling double set, did the Clash really do much that was innovative? U2 had become super-obnoxious superstars, Missing Persons had been a cutesy New Wave band who for some reason had a couple of major hits and had lost any club credibility, and I still remember standing on line waiting to see the premiere of Rock and Roll High School where a person behind me was wearing a t-shirt that read “Sit on my face, Stevie Nicks.”

But like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, the US Festival as not just about the music, but about the corporate sponsorship, which is well represented here.

Day 1 (Saturday, May 28; “New Wave Day”):

The first band up is the Aussie rockers, the Divinyls. This performance was around the time of their breakthrough album, and the one I still consider their best, Desperate. They usually ended their set in the early days with this, their first hit, “Boys in Town” (years later it would become their opener). Singer Christine “Chrissy” Amphlett (d. 2013; RIP) would later become better known for her sexually tinged soft rock “I Touch Myself” and “Pleasure and Pain,” which is the equivalent of Slade being criminally remembered for “My Oh My” and “Run Runaway.”  In these nascent days, the Divinyls were a powerhouse, and Christine was like a caged lioness in a schoolgirl uniform. Of course, this is a great version of the song, but at the time, they all were. It is obvious by the red streaks up and down her arms that she had already finished the “Elsie,” another of my favorites, where she writes all over her face, arms and legs with a red lipstick. I would have liked to have seen their whole set, but who knows, maybe someday. The Divinyls are worth checking out.

Do you remember where you were when you heard that Michael Hutchence, lead vocalist of (also) Aussie group INXS, had accidentally(?) offed himself in a hotel room in 1997, made all the more newspaper fodder and culture fixation by his baby-mama’s claim that he was involved in autoerotic asphyxiation? Me neither. I was sorry to hear about him as much as I was about Amy Winehouse or any other overpampered and excessing rock star, but I do have to admit that INXS never meant a whit to me, and I don’t think I would know one of their songs if I fell over it. The one here, “The One Thing,” sounds pretty much like every other ‘80s song of the period with that same rhythm and hollow sounding drums. Hutchence, himself, moves well along the stage and is startlingly handsome, but it almost looks like he’s trying to channel Jim Morrison.

The English Beat was a fun band with their white ska, much like the more famous Madness. The multi-racial Brit boys are constantly moving around the huuuuuuge stage during their song, “Jeanette.” But I wonder why they put interviewee Mark Goodman, one of the very first MTV VJs, talking over them; unfortunately, this is only the start.

The Stray Cats were a decent post-rockabilly band (and acted like assholes to me, but that’s another story), though nowhere near as exciting as their New York rivals, the Rockats. “Rock This Town,” however, has rightfully become a classic, as they do it here. Actually, it’s kind of strange that this Americana music is sandwiched in among a bunch of British and Australian groups.

Men at Work pretty much were  a two-hit wonder in the States, and it’s interesting that they only do one of them, “Who Can It Be Now,” with a recent interview with lead singer Colin Hay talking over some of the instrumental parts. Frustrating; while I’m not a big fan, I do respect them for some reason, and I just think it’s insulting to the bands to overwhelm the music with talk, whatever I think of them. They also do their lesser known “It’s a Mistake.

Of course, the band I was looking forward to on this first day was the headliners, the Clash. My question (yes, there is always a question) is, since everyone knows that the heart and soul of the Clash was Joe Strummer (do you believe there would be a Mick Jones wall in the East Village if it has been Jones instead of Strummer to pass in 2002?), so why pick a Mick Jones song, even a decent one like “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” I would have gone with “London Calling” at the very least. Perhaps the producers were as stoned as Jones, whose stories rival even Willie Nelson? This was, by the way, the last show with Mick in the band.

The original line-up for the first day was as follows: Divinyls, INXS, Wall of Voodoo, Oingo Boingo, the English Beat, A Flock of Seagulls, Stray Cats, Men at Work, and the Clash.

Day 2 (Sunday, May 29; “Heavy Metal Day”):

Even at the time this event was happening, and in fact with many of the fests that the Ramones skewered so well in their “Something to Believe In” video, such as Live AID, when there are shots of the audience, a large amount of them are going to be of either braless women wearing tight clothes, women in bikinis, women sitting on the shoulders of their guys, and women with big…tracks of land, and Monty Python so famously put it. Sexist? Oh, yeah. To be fair, there are a few shots of buff shirtless men, but most males you see are drunk, screaming, or being macho morons.  And to think that these people are now in their early 50s with kids around the same age somehow makes me smile.

Everything that made Judas Priest was in place that day, including Rob Halford’s riding his ‘cycle and leathers onto the stage, his fey manner, and his four octave range. Canadian Hall of Famers, Triumph, for some reason gets the largest number of songs on this collection and is seen on this after JP, though they actually played before. Germany’s Scorpions, post-Michael Schenker (wow, I remembered how to spell it!), are also solid, of course, though they don’t do their metal classic “Rock Me Like a Hurricane.” Oh, well. I noticed that the band incorporated quite a few moves from the Who, such as the mic fling and the windmill.

All three have overlapping themes (hence belonging to the same genre), such as sung verses and screamed/screeched choruses, multiple guitar assaults, loyal fans, and the ability to make me wonder what’s for supper. Yes, I did sit all the way through the DVD of the day.

The original line-up for Day 2 was as follows: Quiet Riot, Motley Crue, Triumph, Ozzy Osbourne, Judas Priest, Scorpions, and Van Halen.

Day 3 (Monday, May 30; Rock Day):

Okay, I realize this collection is a three-part special that was released in 2009, but whoever did it, well, I would like to have a conversation. For example, the first band up on the third day, which is more New Wavy than the official “New Wave Day,” is Berlin. Sure, lots of synth and ‘80s aesthetic, but I like singer Terri Nunn’s voice somewhat (that waiver was very popular then with the likes of Chrissy Hynde, who also played this day, though unseen here). Berlin is given very short shrift thanks to cutting the song to about a minute, and most of that having Goodman talking over it. I agree with what he says, but the producer could have put it between the songs, not over it. Plus, even when you can hear the music, they show the same damn clips of people in the audience (again, mostly women dressed provocatively for the time) that appear on the other two days. C’mon…

Quarterflash never even raised a blip to my peer group, to be honest. I think this is the first time I can remember actually hearing them. And I don’t think I missed anything. With Missing Persons, I can imagine people looking back and thinking, WTF? How did they get any serious attention, really?

It’s interesting to see U2 so early in their career before Bono and the Edge became prisoners of their personas (wraparound sunglasses, and the like), to paraphrase the wonderful Christine Lavin. And as big as U2 became, there is still talking over them, actually having the balls to compare them to Elvis and the Beatles. No wonder their egos became such monstrosities.

Wait, What? They put a Triumph song from Day 2 in the middle of a collection of Day 3? Certainly they didn’t run out of music for the day. They clipped Berlin down to nuthin’, and even talked over U2. What were they thinking, and is the producer secretly Canadian? Surely the band didn’t return and wear the exact same clothes.

Last up is Stevie Nicks (though Bowie closed the night). I have none of her music in my collection, but I can certainly see why she was so prominent on the bill. Diminutive in size, with Mick Fleetwood pounding the drums behind her, she barrels her way through her two songs, making it look easy. She definitely has one of the most distinct voices in rock, even when she’s doing a disco-style version of her solo hit, “Stand Back.”

The original mainstage line-up for Day 3 was as follows: Little Steven & the Disciples of Soul, Berlin, Quarterflash, U2, Missing Persons, the Pretenders, Joe Walsh, Stevie Nicks, David Bowie.

In conclusion, there is a strong woman starting the festival and a strong woman ending it, and lots of shots of audience bimbos inbetween. The success of the three-day collection (the fourth “Country Day” is not shown) is getting so see some acts that were soon to be gone, most of whom have vanished and others in their nascentcy on their way to superstardom. The failure is due to the lack of respect for the artists by narrating over them, or editing their work. Obviously, what is needed is a box set of the entire festival. In the meanwhile, this will have to do, but note that many of the clips here are quite available on YouTube, but you didn’t get that from me.

Song List:

Divinyls: Boys in Town
The English Beat: Jeanette
INXS: The One Thing
Stray Cats: Rock This Town
Stray Cats: Double Talkin’ Baby
Men at Work: Who Can It Be Now
Men at Work: It’s a Mistake
The Clash: Should I Stay or Should I Go
Judas Priest: Breakin’ the Law
Judas Priest: You Got Another Thing Comin’
Triumph: Lay It on the Line
Triumph: Fight the Good Fight
Triumph: A World of Fantasy
Scorpions: The Zoo
Scorpions: Can’t Get Enough
Berlin: Sex I’m A
Quarterflash: Find Another Fool
U2: Sunday, Bloody, Sunday
U2: Electric Co.
Missing Persons: Words
Triumph: Magic Power
Stevie Nicks: Outside the Rain
Stevie Nicks: Stand Back