THE RUNAWAYS [1978-79]

Text by Barry Geiger / FFanzeen 1978-1979

Introduction and photos by Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2018

Images from the Internet

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #3, dated Fall-Winter 1978-1979. It was written by Barry Geiger.

As I’ve stated before, I’ve had the opportunity to see the Runaways play New York three times: once in its original incarnation at a (mostly) music industry showcase at CBGB, once opening for the Ramones at the Palladium, and then post-Cherie Currie with the B-Girls opening, again at CBGBs. Each show was different, and all were a fun night.

When reading this article, I think it’s important to remember the time period in which it was written, because you’re probably going to cringe a bit at the language (i.e., the female descriptors early in the piece). Still, this is one of the early articles about the band, so I leave it as it stand.

I don’t exactly agree with all of what Barry says, since I find the second album to be pretty damn good (though none can hold a candle to the first), but music is so subjective that I respect what he felt.

The only member of the band I met post-Runaways was Currie, at a Chiller Theatre convention in the early 1990s, and she was an asshole to me. Considering how Right Wing she is now, somehow that makes sense. But that’s not going to stop me from enjoying the music of which she was an important part. – RBF, 2018

During the Summer of 1976, I went to the newsstand to buy the new issue of Creem. When I got home, I read this great review of a new debut album about this group of five foxy teenage girls who call themselves the Runaways. After finishing the article, I said to myself, “This band will never make it. The record company must have paid off the magazine to write something good about these chicks.”

Even though I thought it was all a bunch of bullshit, I was a little curious to hear them. I didn’t want to be closed-minded about them. That night I went to the record store and saw the (self-titled) album on sale for three-and-a-half bucks. It had a nice cover, so I figure, “What the hell.” I bought the record.

When I got home and played the album, I was astounded. These girls were really good! It was like magic. From the first note, I knew that this band was very special.

This group was really talented. Cherie Currie’s singing was pretty good, Lita Ford’s guitar playing was great, Jackie Fox’s bass playing was fantastic, and Sandy West’s drumming was sheer dynamite! Joan Jett seemed like a mediocre guitarist, but her lyrics were outrageous: “I’ll give you something to live for/Have you, grab you till you’re sore.”

“Cheery Bomb” was destined to become a teenage anthem. “American Nights” was sheer poetry, “Blackmail” was two minutes and forty-two seconds of pure ass-kicking rock and roll, and their rendition of Lou Reed’s “Rock and Roll” was a true delight. “Dead End Justice” would have been great if it weren’t for that stupid dialogue between Cherie and Joan in the middle of the song.

For weeks and weeks, I couldn’t get that record off of my turntable. I simply loved it. Then it happened: the Runaways were featured on the cover of Crawdaddy Magazine. I said to myself, “This is it. They are gonna hit it big!”

Well, I was wrong. Their second album, aptly titled Queens of Noise, which was released in early 1977, was a tremendous disappointment. Alright, “I Love Playing with Fire” is a masterpiece, “Born to be Bad” is pretty good, “Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin” is decent, and the title cut is bearable, but the rest of the album is totally uninspiring. I quickly began losing interest in the band. Cheri started to sound too much like Suzi Quatro. The lyrics weren’t as powerful as the ones on the first album; and neither was the music.

They started sounding too commercialized. Steve Tyler of Aerosmith co-wrote one of the songs. Why the hell was he writing for punk bands? I couldn’t believe that the Runaways had sold out. Their songs were bordering with Middle-of-the-Road. “Heartbeat” and “Midnight Music” could have been big AM hits with the right promotion, but they were not rock and roll.

One day that Summer I heard the news: Cherie Currie split from the band. The reason was personal conflicts with Joan Jett. I was shocked. It was impossible for me to imagine the Runaways making it without their lead singer.

A few weeks later it was announced that Jackie Fox, the bass playing Jewish Princess, had quit the Runaways so that she can study Law. I was sure that this meant the end of the group. Jackie was probably the most talented girl in the group. Her basslines are what made me so intrigued with the first LP. I was really upset when I heard they lost her.

Rumors were that Danielle Fay, bassist of the Zippers, an LA band, would replace Jackie, and Joan would take over as lead vocalist. I started gaining interest in the band again. I had heard the Zippers before and I knew that Fay wasn’t bad. I also knew that Joan was just as good a singer as Cherie (she did sing “I Love Playing with Fire,” the best tune on the second album).

The Danielle Fay rumors were later found to be false. As a replacement for Jackie, the Runaways hired a blonde bombshell by the name of Vicki Blue.

In November, the third album, Waiting for the Night, was released. I found it to be the best thing the band had ever recorded. Vicki wasn’t nearly as adept a musician as Jackie was, but she was adequate. Sandy was terrific, as usual. Joan was a very pleasant surprise. Her voice sounded just perfect: the lyrics were full of emotion. It was great!

  

The most interesting thing about this album, however, is Lita Ford’s devastating guitar riffs. She had evolved from a good guitarist playing for a good group into the driving force behind a great rock and roll band.

Joan had also developed into a fine rhythm guitarist. On the first two albums, her guitar playing wasn’t nearly as important as it was now. On The Runaways album, her major contribution to the group was her songwriting. On the second album she not only wrote the songs, she also sang half of them. On Waiting for the Night, she not only writes and sings the songs, her guitar playing is now an integral part of the sound. She is now the true “leader” of this band.

This album contains some of the hardest driving rock and roll songs the Runaways have ever recorded. “School Days” was custom-made for high school kids and people who know what it’s like to be a teenager in the ‘70s. “You’re Too Possessive” is so full of hate and vengeance that one can’t help but love it. “Thrash Can Murders” is a fantastic song, thanks to Lita’s extraordinary guitar solos. “Wasted” is a New Wave classic (because of its lyrics, not the music).”Don’t Go Away” is the best song on the album. Joan and Lita work great together, exchanging riffs throughout the song. Sandy’s drumming is as superb as ever. It’s also the only number on the album in which Vicki matches Jackie’s excellence on bass.

If the Runaways can continue producing albums like Wafting in the Night and keep away from the kind of dissention that made Queens of Noise such a disaster, they will become a truly super group.

Music Impresario Kim Fowley Obit (1939-2015), by Scott Kempner

Text by Scott Kempner / FFanzeen, 2015

Introduction by Robert Barry Francos, 2015

Kim Fowley was an enigma. He’s one of the more important and shadowy, behind-the-scenes figures in rock and roll history, from its birth through its various forms. He was part of the original West Coast doo wop groups, the Hollywood Argyles who rose to fame with the off-beat novelty ditty, “Ally Oop,” and followed up with a number of his own releases as singles and LPs that were genre bending and leaning towards psychedelia and glam. Kim was also known as the contentious manager and Svengali of the original The Runaways.

There was much that had Kim’s presence in the biz. For example, the experience of holding up a lighter in concerts was his brainchild. He had his hand in John and Yoko playing in Toronto (he even emceed the event), did the first recordings with Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, co-wrote a number of songs with major bands such as KISS, Cat Stevens and Alice Cooper, played on Frank Zappa’s Freak Out!, and… Well, if you want a taste of the man, check out the 2003 documentary, The Mayor of Sunset Strip. Born in California in 1939, the 75 year old Fowley died of bladder cancer on January 15, 2015, in West Hollywood.

Bronx-bred Scott Kempner’s career started with the seminal rock punk (as opposed to punk rock) band, The Dictators, who in 1975 was the first of the bands to spring out of CBGBs to release an album; he was known as Top Ten in those days. He moved on to another well-known band, the Del-Lords, before moving out to California. – RBF

Just heard the news that Kim Fowley has passed away. I didn't meet Kim until the mid-‘80s, at one of the first South By Southwest conferences. I never knew what to make of him from afar, and even when I first got to know him a little, I was a little suspicious. I guess it was kind of a NYC-to-LA trans-continental kind of suspicion. But I did get to know him, and hung out bullshitting with him many memorable times, including one especially memorable week when Stevie Van Zandt had his Underground Garage Festival in NYC in 2004, at which the Dictators performed, and Kim was the MC.

Stevie put both Kim and myself at the same hotel for a week. I would see him for breakfast every day, and we would chat for hours, as he held court, regaling all with his endless tales of rock'n'roll heroes and the sometimes even more interesting also-rans. He was hilarious, original, knowledgeable, madly in love with rock'n'roll, and he knew EVERYBODY!!!

It was a tough time for me, as I had been out of the band [Dictators] for two years, and this was gonna be my first show with them in two years. In fact, if not for Stevie, I don't know if I ever would have played with them again. But, Stevie went to bat for me, and I rejoined the band for another five years, and Kim listened to it all, and always had advice or some bit of Kim wisdom that would lift me and get me through the day. He also never once let me pay for breakfast, and always saved a seat next to him each morning so we could pick up where we left off.

Kim was so gracious, and just a great pal and sounding board. The private Kim was very emotional and sweet, and had so much passion for the music and those that played it. He remembered every detail you had spoken to him about. After that week, we were "officially friends," as he told me. That made me very happy and proud.

He was a prime mover on the West Coast, as I am sure you all know. He seems to have a million friends. Kim's name is on dozens and dozens of hits. A true original, a classic hustler - in the best sense - and one of my favorite people out here on the West Coast. I was always thrilled to run into him. He even knew of the Del-Lords, and our guru/hero, Lou Whitney "and his Trans-Am song". His stories were the very best anybody ever told, or anybody ever heard - if people like Dylan, Morrison, The Stones, The Beatles, The Byrds, Ray Charles (remind me to tell you that one), etc., etc., etc., mean anything to you.

It pains me that the days of running into him at a Springsteen show (at which I saw him at least five or six times), or some other rock event are over. I feel like I will still be looking for him towering above the rest of us, and spotting me before I could spot him and calling me over to regale me with yet another tale that I will be repeating to anyone who'll listen for as long as I live.

I am quite sure I am safe in saying we will never see anyone (even remotely) like Kim Fowley again. R.I.P. Kim, I know there are scores of broken hearts around town right now as the news of your passing spreads. I guarantee you, you will never be forgotten. That's a fact. Goodnight, Kim.

 

 

TOM PETTY: A Petty Interview

Text and live at CBGB’s photo by Robert Barry Francos
Album images from the Internet
Interview text © FFanzeen 1977; intro and outro text © 2009

The following interview was originally published in the first issue of FFanzeen (issue dated 7/7/77).

I had done a few interviews for groups that were handled by Shelter Records, and the staff was quite excited about a new, freshman album that was about to come out by a yet-unknown Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. They gave me an advance copy of the first album, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. While it didn’t bowl me over, I enjoyed the quirkiness of it, a feeling which would not be repeated for following albums when the group became the musical mid-ground between John Cougar Mellencamp and Bob Dylan, both of whom would profit from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ success. The first album was sharp and its minimalist production, reminiscent of the Modern Lovers’ earliest recordings. Songs were based on minor keys and about a wider range of subject matter than just “love / hate”. The two best cuts were also the two hits from the album, “Breakdown,” and especially “American Girl.”

The publicity machine let me know that Petty would be playing at CBGB and I could be on the guest list, so I headed on down to the showcase. No one that I asked was interested in going to see the weekday show with me, since Petty was a total unknown. The place was filled with suits and very few of the public, who were possibly turned off by seeing all the aforementioned corporate types, or the lack of product by the artist. They weren’t a New York band, so they had no following here. I sat in front, which was easy since the record and publicity cogs circled the bar like flies on shit. I had my instamatic camera and took some slides to record the moment.

Soon afterwards, I was able to catch Tom Petty and his band again (and again be on the guest list) for his show at the Bottom Line, where he opened for Roger McGuinn. Originally I wasn’t going to go, but I thought it would be cool to see McGuinn, whom I had never seen perform before. It is very rare to find a rock writer / critic / reviewer / fan who will admit they want to get on a band’s guest list to actually see the group sharing the bill. It was actually a strange billing since McGuinn had just released a cover of “American Girl.” Both of them sang it during their own sets (and with different arrangements).

The day after the McGuinn show, I interview Petty. I dragged Alan Abramowitz along. Petty had two interviews before mine (also college writers, I believe), until finally it was our turn into the conference chamber. You would think that for someone who was facing only his third interview, Petty would be excited and into it. Well, if he was, he sure didn’t give any indication. He just droned, in that nasal voice, and went on like we were more in his way than trying to get us on his side, something that might help get a favorable article and serve to produce fans. He sat there and talked with a monotone, giving the impression he was thinking more about doing something else, like his laundry, than being in the moment. As this interview shows, as short as it was, Petty was egocentric and self-important, even back then. When asked a question, he’d follow his own course, whether connected or not; and when asked to clarify, he’d just go on without even realizing anyone else besides his voice was in the room. All in all, he was quite boring. In fact, after a few minutes, Alan fell asleep in the corner, and began to loudly snore. I envied him. I don’t believe that Petty was purposely trying to be nasty in any way, he was just highly involved with himself. That is why I gave the piece its title.

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Tom Petty: A Petty Interview

Although Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are considered a West Coast band, they have been fairly well accepted by the rockers on both coasts. They’ve played on the same bill with such groups as Blondie and the Runaways. When I interviewed them last March 8, 1977, they were playing the Bottom Line with Roger McGuinn. They had played at CBGB a few months past. They have a definite rock’n’roll sound that, to some, may take some getting into (remember the first time you heard Television?).

While doing this interview, I kept getting the feeling that, at times, Petty wasn’t listening to what either I, or he himself, was saying. You may catch this on some of the answers. Despite this, I feel that, in most cases, Petty answered to the best of his ability.

FFanzeen: With all the names for the music being played these days, what do you call what you play?

Tom Petty: We just consider ourselves a rock’n’roll band.

FF: Have you seen any other New York bands when you were here?

Petty: Yeah, I’ve seen, well, I just played in L.A. with Blondie for four nights. I saw the Ramones. I haven’t seen a lot of them but I have a friend here [in New York] at Sire Records who sends me a lot of records for me to hear so I’ve heard some of it. I’m not really aware of it. No, we’re not trying to jump in on that one. We’re a young rock’n’roll band and that’s it. Gene Benson was punk as far as – I mean, he was probably more punk than the Ramones are. So was Elvis.

FF: When you played New York, did you find that anyone got confused between Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and [Johnny Thunders and] the Heartbreakers?

Petty: Yeah, the first time we came here we didn’t know about that band for a long time. We heard about it right before we played CBGB’s; that there was another local band called the Heartbreakers. But by that time, I said, I haven’t heard them to this day, and, well, ours is Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and they can’t get too confused, and sorry and all that but we ain’t gonna change our name or nothing. That’s really a New York problem. It doesn’t come up everywhere.

FF: How did you like playing CBGB’s?

Petty: Good gig. When we came that time, we wanted to play the street place, you know. All I said about New York is “Alright, I’ll play there, but I don't want to go to the Bottom Line, come on with a big press party, and I hate that sort of thing. It just ain’t my nature. I’d like to play the street place where the kids go.” Went there and all the press came.

FF: You picked a bad night, a Tuesday night.

Petty: Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I enjoyed it. I met a lot of people here and it was a really good couple of days. I like New York.

FF: Did you like playing the Bottom Line?

Petty: Yeah, I had a great time. I think, you know, that the audience, they weren’t quite ready for what happened on the first show, for either show, but coaxed with it, ya know, they dug it. I could tell they dug it. They were with us.

FF: Are you on tour now?

Petty: I’ve been on tour about at least five weeks and I’m gonna be out for another two months. We were with the Runaways the night before we were with McGuinn. Roger was a strong influence on me when he was with the Byrds. They were some of the first records I ever bought. I met him in L.A. I like him, I really do. He’s a cool cat. No matter what he does, I dig him. He’s a legend, ya know? Roger McGuinn. I’m really going to enjoy this gig. The last night of the tour is in Long Island at some university.

FF: What was it like playing with the Runaways?

Petty: Well, we’ve only played with them once. We have another date in Cleveland. We played with them in Detroit with a band called Cheap Trick. It was just this Detroit rock show, you know, just give me blood, you know. We went down fine. It was really simple for us. I had never seen the Runaways till then. They were what you might call weird. It was kinda like a teen porn show, or something. I didn’t get to know the girls really well. I know them but I don’t know them. They just look like sex teens. They’re just some kids trying to play. They just happen to be girls. It was strange to see the guys go nuts.

FF: You’re from [Jacksonville] Florida.

Petty: That’s where I was born and raised. I haven’t lived there for ... four years. I live in L.A.

FF: How did you meet the Heartbreakers?

Petty: They’re from Florida, too. They were all in different bands. I was in a band there that got pretty popular. We came out to L.A., and got a record deal, and I quit about halfway through the album. The band broke up and the album never came out. Then I signed another record contract, sort of an artist-in-residence thing with Shelter for about three years. I would sit back and play in the studio ... Then the other guys drifted out to L.A., like Michael Campbell, the guitar player, was with me all the time. We’re playing together about five years. The rest of them just drifted out for various reasons. Through a series of chance meetings, we showed up on the same demo session and it was so good ... so we got together and we did a couple of tracks and we said all right. I went to a record company ... with my hat in my hand, “I’m joining a band, the Heartbreakers.” They were real understanding.

FF: What was the group (you came to California with) ...

Petty: The Heartbreakers.

FF: No, what group was it ...

Petty: We’ve been together now for about a year. It’s a great band. I’m still on the rush. I don’t understand how it happened or what went right. I dig this band, and I’m pretty hard on bands. No ego trips. No leader and nobody’s got more say than anybody else. It works very well.

FF: I take it you’re satisfied with the way the album came out?

Petty: For a first album, it’s pretty true to where we were at the time. It’s getting played on (W)NEW (New York) with moderate airplay. We got a single that’s a hit in England.

FF: What single?

Petty: “American Girl.”

FF: Roger McGuinn has the same single out ... are you satisfied with the way McGuinn did it?

Petty: Well, I wouldn’t have done it that way. I obviously didn’t do it that way.

FF: I haven’t heard his single yet. I heard him do it last night though.

Petty: He did it very Roger McGuinn-ish. A lot different. A lot more laid back. We do it like Bo Diddley. Roger does it a little cruizier, and he changes some of the words. When I played one day in L.A., I was teaching the song to Roger. Like, we just sat, and it was a real standoff situation. I came in and they say, ”Whoa, a real punk. What a punk.” Like Roger would call me a punk. “Who the fuck are you callin’ a punk? I ain’t no punk.” I put on my guitar and I say, “It goes like this: One, two ...” But I respect the guy a lot. He knows what he’s doin’. His audience is probably better that way, than my audience. This is really sort of a great compliment to me. I’m really second generation to Roger. I’m flattered he did it at all.

FF: What music do you listen to now?

Petty: Now? Sort of the same stuff I used to listen to. I listen to everything. I really do listen to all kinds of music. I have not heard Bruce Springsteen. I mean, I heard him once and that’s it. Right before I went on tour I listened to the Everly Brothers’ greatest hits. I listen to Aerosmith and I tend to go by tracks. The ones I listen to all the way are usually classic albums, like the Kinks. The Low album is probably a classic.


FF: What do the Heartbreakers listen to?

Petty: There isn’t really much we disagree on. Stan (Lynch, drummer) is definitely into heavy metal and Ron’s (Blair, bass) into heavy metal. Michael (Campbell, guitar) is into Stones stuff, Beatles. Ben’s (Tench, keyboards) a thousand things.

FF: Will a time come when a Heartbreaker will sing a solo?

Petty: No, I don’t think so. It might happen. If it does, it will be a group thing. I’m the lead singer because I’m the lead singer. We didn’t dye our hair, we didn’t curl it, no one did any of that. People actually ask me, “Did you dye your hair?” We’re just a straight rock'n’roll band. No smoke machines. None of that. We’re straightforward guitar, drums rock’n’roll. We’re song-oriented.

FF: What is your ultimate goal?

Petty: We want to be successful. Not just money. You know, just making a successful record and a successful show. Whatever that means, that’s what it is. I just want to be successful. I could feel successful without selling a million records.

FF: Do you see yourself branching out into other media, like television?

Petty: We ain't never gonna do no TV special. I don’t think we’d do the Midnight Special. I wouldn’t go on with one of those “Alright, the stage is gonna go upside down. Here’s this camera angle. Here’s the same old fuckin’ set we look at every week.” I would like to do a variety show. I could dig that.

FF: Do you have any hobbies?

Petty: Girls are my latest hobbies. I think that’s the Heartbreakers’ latest hobbies now-a-days. Yeah.
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Perhaps it’s only my hometown pride, but I was pissed about the way Petty was dismissive about Johnny Thunders’ Heartbreakers, as well as the Ramones. Sorry, TP, but the Heartbreakers are not just a local band, and still have an international appeal that, on some level, your Heartbreakers could never reach. While Tom Petty’s band may have a wider audience demographic and sell more product, the New York Heartbreakers have influenced many more musicians, even if they didn’t have the music business industry behind them (most likely due to the industry’s fear of their unreliability and their, er, peccadilloes). Petty’s music became ever more mundane and tiresome, while Thunders’ would be innovative until he died. How many Tom Petty bootlegs compared to Johnny Thunders. And more importantly, how many people have listened to Tom Petty and wanted to play music as compared to Johnny Thunders. For both of these, I would lean toward the latter.

I became more convinced of Petty’s shallowness – if just lack of withallness – when he appeared on one of the Friday night concert shows, the very kind he stated he’d never be on, within a year or two of his decrying the genre. And sure enough all of the weird camera angles and close-ups were on display. Most likely he thought it was a “good gig” and “dug it.”

I’m not trying to harp on Tom Petty, as I really don’t have anything against him, even though I’m not a fan (again, except that for that first album). I’m sure he’s a southern gentleman who plays a decent guitar. With his band, he’s done a lot of fine work in his career, especially backing up musicians like brother-in-monotone-nasality, Bob Dylan. What I was disturbed about was his “whatever” attitude, which made him appear so oblivious (and seemly uncaring) of what is going on around him.

On a positive note, Petty was the leading force in getting a headstone for Jackie Wilson, who had died penniless after years of being a shut-in as a result of an on-stage heart attack; so, I guess Petty does have his compassionate side, and assured himself a place in the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland.

The Runaways at CBGB's and Palladium, 1976-78

FFotos (c) Robert Barry Francos

I was interested in seeing the “Queens of Noise” (as opposed to the noise of Queens) when they played in New York City for the first time, in 1976. The five barely-post-adolescent The Runaways were scheduled to play CBGB. Their self-titled album was rocking, but was still a more pop version of what Suzi Quatro was doing – which was rock on out like the boys.

Before compromising her credibility by appearing as Leather, Pinky Tuscadero’s twice-thigh-slapping-and-pointing sister on Happy Days, Suzi was a guiding force and prime inspiration in woman-led rock. She was cute and she could pound her ax, growl, and “rock hard” with the best. When I saw her open for Alice Cooper at Madison Square Garden, I went out and bought a few of her LPs.

[Joan Jett, The Runaways, CBGB's, 1978]
The Runaways, as envisioned and “created” by mentor Kim Fowley, were a group of valley girls (well, at the time, any teenage female from LA was a valley girl to any self-respecting New Yorker) who could fill the fantasies of teenage heavy music boys (and some horny old coots). The music press couldn’t get enough of the band in the late 1970s, covering them in several magazines, including People, Rock Scene, Trouser Press, Crawdaddy, and Who Put the Bomp (where I first read about them).

The album started off with the instant classic tease, “Cherry Bomb” (“Hello daddy, hello mom/I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!”: see video below), which was written by co-member and guitarist Joan Jett (aged 16 – the ages were duly and helpfully noted on the album cover), ground out by fellow guitarist Lita Ford (oldest at 17), and accompanied by drummer Sandy West (16) and bassist Jackie Fox (16). Sung with a smugness that befit the lyrics was Cherie Currie (16), who had a penchant for wearing a widow corset and bustier on-stage, and swinging the microphone through her legs. While no other song on the album could hold up to “Cherry Bomb,” the music piqued our interest. Bernie Kugel and I knew that they would be interesting to see live, as a media event in its own right. We had wondered how much of the sound was studio, and how much of it was the Runaways. With Kim Fowley backing them, it seemed a valid question, him being known for media manipulation, and I don’t mean that in a necessarily negative way; he’s a showman much like Malcolm McLauren, or more likely akin to how David F. Friedman was to films.

[Lita Ford, The Runaways, CBGB's, 1978]
When we arrived at CBGB’s, early as usual, there was a line just starting. We were near the front, fortunately. Seems the record execs had set this show up as an industry showcase, so the place was packed with lots of suits (if you can imagine them in 1976 CBGB) who were more interested in either the free drinks, the shmooz-factor, or the possibility of seeing some cute young rock chicks. As always, we were there for the both the music and the joy of being at this historic concert.

When the management finally got around to acknowledging and letting in the relatively long line of fans, there was only room enough left for about a dozen or so of us. Despite being near the front, we were at a table way towards the back of the club, against the brick wall opposite the bar. Luckily, with the tiny stage being on the same side, we had some possibility of a view. This was more than a year before I would have my camera, so I have no photos of the event. We both stood on our chairs and leaned against the wall. The waitresses were too busy with the execs to have time to abuse us. The concert was everything we had hoped it would be – a good old rock’n’roll show.

A year or so later, the Runaways were big hits in Japan and their second album, Queens of Noise, had been released. This collection was quite a bit more “glossy” on the production end than the first, again with a few memorable songs, like “Road to Ruin,” and the title cut. The band played at the Palladium (nee the Academy of Music), a much larger venue, opening for the Ramones on January 7, 1978.

[The Runaways, Palladium, 1978]
Our seats were pretty far back, and the gig was great for a theater show, One of things I remember the most about this concert was an incident involving the intermission. As the lights went down after the Runaways finished their set and we waited for the Ramones, suddenly the intermission music started, which was the opening chords of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. The audience became suddenly very tensely quiet, waiting… When it became clear it was really Beethoven’s Fifth, and not the dreadful Walter Murphy travesty, "A Fifth of Beethoven," the audience gave a huge sigh of relief and the conversations started once again. We were punks, but we were not ignorant masochists.

The third and last time I saw the Runaways play New York, they were again at CBGB’s. Cherie Currie had already left the band (as did bassist Jackie Fox, who was replaced with Vicki Blue) and Joan Jett rose up the ranks as the lead, giving Lita Ford more of a chance to show off her metal-influenced guitarwork. They were quite competent, which did not surprise me, since Joan had been handling some of the songs even while Cherie was in the band. This time, near the new stage on the right side of the club, Alan Abramowitz and I sat by the speaker on the right.

Opening for the Runaways was a Toronto-based band, the B-Girls. I had their single, “Fun at the Beach,” b/w “B-Girls” (on the Bomp! label) and enjoyed it, so it made sense to go to the show. The B-Girls had attitude, but they were a good surf/pop/rock’n’roll style band.

The Runaways, too young and immature at the time to grow more formidable as a whole, drifted apart and some became famous names with their own careers. Cherie Currie released a couple of decent but not overly strong albums with her twin sister, Marie (though their song, “Since You’ve Been Gone” is a standard listen for me), came clean about her drug use on some daytime talk show, probably in 1989 when she released her autobiography for the first time.

[Cherie Currie, Chiller Theater, 1999]
The last time I saw her in person was in May of 1999 at the Chiller Theatre Horror and Model Convention in Secaucus, New Jersey, where she was, I’m guessing, still trying to break into B-movies (as she’d already appeared in Parasite – which was also one of Demi Moore’s early flicks – and Foxes, co-starring Scott Baio and Jodie Foster; her character dies in both...anyone looking for an omen?). She looked buffed and was signing autographs (for money) at a table next to Neal Smith and Michael Bruce from the Alice Cooper Band. She smiled pleasantly for my request for taking a picture of her, and when I mentioned that I had seen her play CBGB’s about 23 years earlier (at that time), she became very cold and distant, and gave me a “who gives a fuck, fan-boy?” look. I said thank you for the snap, and beat a hasty retreat. Brrrrr..