Johnny Thunders: All Solo Like...

Drawing crowds during three distinct decades would usually point to some general success and positive experiences. Johnny Thunders pissed it away, though. It all went down the tubes – or into his veins. Or nose. Or whatever. He left a slew of music behind, though. And while some of it’s utterly incredible – I’m thinking of the two albums from the New York Dolls – there’s some stuff that’s just passable and only for the fanatic. Yeah, Gang War (which also included the MC5’s Wayne Kramer) had its moments, but wasn’t priming Thunders for stardom. Fame, though, was probably a dream that he discarded well before his death in 1991.

By the time Thunders stumbled into NOLA and set up shop to die – which seems like an appropriate place for such an occurrence – he’d been releasing discs every few years throughout the ‘80s. None became hits, but each maintained his legacy. There was certainly some sloppy stuff in there as well as a good number of retreads. But I guess if Thunders’ greatest crime was re-recording “Great Big Kiss,” it’s be alright.

Constant touring and the drugs that went along with it eventually became too much for Thunders’ system and it collapsed. But it was a befitting end.

A full thirteen years prior to his demise, Thunders released his first solo disc. It wasn’t even billed as a Heartbreakers album. It was just the guitarist, although, he was joined by a few former Sex Pistols, Chrissi Hynde as well as some former band mates. So Alone, with its cover image finding the guitarist barely sitting in a chair and half awake in some opiate daze, holds a spate of songs that don’t really seem to have any positive bent to ‘em.

The aforementioned Dolls’ cover is a brief respite. And the opening track – a cover of “Pipeline” – isn’t a downer, but it also doesn’t have any lyrics. “Chatterbox” finds itself re-worked for a song entitled “Leave Me Alone.” In its title, one would be safe to guess that it’s not a sunshine kinda song. That being said, the guitar playing here might surpass the original version. The abandon that Thunders still played with is there, but an additional five years to solidify his chops didn’t hurt.

And that’s weird. Shouldn’t the drugs have wasted him by this point? Instead the guitarist unlooses some screeds of guitar stuffs that folks today only dream of.

Aside from that, a few of the originals are clunkers. “(She’s So) Untouchable” doesn’t really bare re-listening. But of course there’s “You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory,” which even found itself on a disc of covers that Guns ‘N Roses worked out during the ’90s. The track doesn’t possess the same sort of guitar work that Thunders is associated with. There’re bits of aggression that shine through, but most of the song is given over to acoustic guitar strumming. Thunders laments old problems and wishes for something tangible.

It’s a bummer he’s gone. But we should all learn not to try too hard from this man. It worked out better than one could have expected.

A Post Nuggets Garage: The '80s and '90s

The Black Keys – hopefully they make a good rap album in the next few months – don’t really factor into my thinking about garage stuff. Jack White either. That’s not a knock on those folks (ok, maybe it is). But there’s such a huge backlog of garage stuff from the post-Nuggets era, that becoming obsessed with that Akron or Detroit band doesn’t make any bloody sense.

The Morning Shakes
New York’s the Morning Shakes are easily the least known group on this list. It released a number of singles and only two full lengths. After breaking up, a few new groups sprung up, but nothing compared to this line up. Wavering between perversion and songs about cars, there wasn’t anything horrendously unique about these guys, they were just good at garage and revved up ‘60s rock. The fact that they looked like a lounge act probably didn’t make them contenders for wide notoriety, but good music is just good music.

The Cynics
An early ‘80s Pittsburgh band, the Cynics didn’t gain the sort of acclaim that the Gories or the Mummies did. Regardless of that, the fact that the band kept ‘60s sounds alive when it was reasonably unfashionable in the face of new wave is admirable. But beyond even that, the fact that band members maintained – and still do – Get Hip Records is as important as the music the group cranked out.

The Gories
One of the innumerable Detroit bands that factor into punk’s history, the Gories included members that would go on to form not just the Dirtbombs, but the Gore Gore Girls as well. And while only that first band has made waves, the music that the Gories cranked out is probably the most engaging – and most blues inspired – of anyone on this list. The wide swath of sounds that the band included – ‘60s beat stuff, punk, no wave, whatever – served to make its music more intense and enduring. The White Stripes are gonna be remembered in the future – these guys won’t be forgotten either, but without the Gories, there wouldn’t be any Jack White.

The Mummies
As informative to future garage groups – in general aesthetic and sound – the Mummies were a spectacle (and they’re playing at Budget Rock this year). All dressed up and with only SF as a destination, the South Bay band became a part of the growing trend to incorporate surf and ‘60s frat stuffs into its music. There were a few others in the Bay that copped the same attitude, but the Mummies, between its live show and adherence to awful recordings and tape or vinyl-only releases, have left a weird DIY legacy for others to unearth in the future.

The Registrators
The California based Rip-Off records released so many discs, that even knowing what’s out there’s a challenge. But amongst all of the label’s releases were a few from Japan’s the Registrators. Everything’s outta print at this point, but the conflagration of punk and garage comes off pretty well when the Registrations mess with the formula.

F.U.'s vs. Liberal Nonsense

I’ve been thinking about Maximum Rock ‘n Roll too much of late – obviously. And part of that has been as a result of the sway that an editor or publisher wields over the bent of a publication. The personality of a honcho, his or her political beliefs and even personal views on stuff that shouldn’t necessarily be inserted into a publication, but can still surface. For good or not, Tim Yo – whose overwhelmingly positive influence on punk shouldn’t be disregarded – voiced a whole buncha personal and political stuff in the pages of MRR. Some of it seemed really well informed and other times it just appeared that he was working hard to be confrontational.

There’s an interview with Boston hard core band F.U.’s in which Yo attempts to get some straight answers outta the band regarding its nationalistic leanings. Of course from the very beginning of the transcript, it’s pretty clear that no one in the band has any intention of taking the conversation too seriously. Despite that fact, Yo continues on in his politically minded line of questioning. As a journalist, it’s obviously his duty to do so. But in that act, Yo makes his point seem verbose and haughty while F.U.’s still just seem aloof – if not a bit ignorant (a word Yo uses to describe a few of the band’s answers to his questions).

The band was apparently none too pleased with the outcome of the interview, but of course, the entire time that the discussion was going on each member had an opportunity to respond to the criticisms that Yo levied on them.

My America, featuring that laughable album cover, was the disc that prompted Yo’s line of questioning. And it’s understandable after taking a listen to songs like “Unite of Lose” or the cover of “We’re an American Band.” Perhaps the recordings were meant to be taken with a grain of salt – although that was disputed in the aforementioned interview. But the cover that closes out the album is anything but a piece of music to be considered in a serious light.

The music on the disc, though, is some prime ‘80s hardcore. The breakdowns – as on the title track – refuse to come off as half cooked or poorly done. “Choir Boy” includes a bit too much metal, but it’s still forgivable if not re-playable.

Apart from that, though, F.U.’s were a part of the notorious Boston scene – a scene not known for its liberalism. Bands like SSD ratcheted up the straight edge thing to untoward territories. For good or bad that resulted in some skirmishes and I would imagine that today, Boston’s still a good place to get your head kicked in.

It’s just music, though. Yeah, it’s a way of life to some folks and can inform unwitting people too lazy to think for themselves, but a band can’t claim responsibility for the folks that listen to its music. So, maybe when tossing on My America and its predecessor, Kill for Christ, it’s alright to turn off your brain and just enjoy.

Human Eye x Mickey

Living in Chicago and wanting to see messed up punk bands that seem to like taking drugs will eventually lead a body to Ronny’s. No, the venue doesn’t look like a venue and unless you happen to be walking down the street while there’s something going on there, it’s likely that you won't ever know  about it.

The place’s split up into two distinct sections. The main bar area sports a pool table, some space to mill around and the distinct aroma of mold and or piss – take you pick. Moving into the annex (there’s not a better word for it, really), one passes through a door that could be found granting entrance into 711 or some such store. But instead of chips and beer on the other side of that door there’re some make shift pieces of dry wall that sport what looks like a few dashes of primer here and there. It doesn’t smell, though, so that’s a bonus.

There’s no stage, bands set up and perform on the floor, which furthers the already close feeling that show goers are gonna have at events here. The sound’s decent and most likely there aren’t gonna be too many acts that draw a large enough crowd to make it uncomfortable to watch any ensemble. Bonus.

Last evening, though, a few bands showed up that deserved to draw a bigger audience. Some out-of-towners performed – the metally duo Unstoppable Death Machine from BK (nice dudes, good tunes). But playing after those folks was a Chicago band simply named Mickey. With Mac Blackout (Daily Void, Functional Blackouts) Brian (Bundle of Fags), Troy (Cheap Thrills), Daniel (Trash & Heat) and Christmas Woods (Tentacle Lizardo, Ill Tongue) comprising the line-up it’d be easy to guess at quality.

There was a bit more of a ‘70s rock feel to Mickey than the other, better known Mac Blackout projects. But the welcomed respite of more traditional sounds was welcomed. The Dolls – mostly in the lead guitar, but also in the poppy progressions – were a presence. But the bump with insanity that any Blackout related performance includes ratcheted up the ability for show-gazers to enjoy and consume. For the most part, it was difficult to discern what in G-d’s name Blackout was screaming about, but he seemed adamant, so that’s good. Right? Anyway, they’ve got a (and are about to have another) single on HoZac, so cop the collectability at earliest convenience.

It should be assumed that most folks were in attendance to see former Clone Defect Timmy Lampinen front Human Eye. Dude apparently holds some advanced degree in art, but despite his academic prowess, he’s pretty adept at losing his mind during a performance.

Human Eye – a four piece replete with keyboardist/noisenik and a drummer with endless chops – ran through a relatively short set. Brevity, though, has nothing to do with the quality of the music. And as it seemed that the crowd was engrossed in what was going on. It should be figured, though, that Mickey perhaps cobbled together a more engaging set.

MRR: An Open Application (Part Three)

7. We need to know a little about your personality. Do you consider yourself shy or out going? Independent? Are you a loner type? Are you comfortable dealing with a lot of people? What are you like when you are mad? How do you think your friends would describe you?

I’m an odd amalgam of each of those things. I just moved to Chicago and have had to go out and find folks to hang out with – I knew three people when I got here. At the same time, though, I’m as likely to sit in my room for two days and read a book as I am to goto shows.

I taught kids for a few years, so interacting with a large group of people, assigning tasks and the like is more than familiar to me.

Mad? If I am, I’ll tell you. Being straightforward is the easiest way to reconcile any situation. You might not want to hear it, but if there’s a problem of some sort – whether it’s in regards to the mag or the living situation – I have no problem voicing my opinion. Ideally, the other person in this scenario is open to not only hearing me out, but also explaining his or her point of view.

My friend’s description of me: Opinionated.

8. Describe your organizational skills and experience in that regard. How detail-oriented are you?

I’ve not ever missed a deadline, been late to some random appointment or missed a class. Ever. Seriously. I could tell you an embarrassing childhood experience that’s resulted in my being this way, but let us save that and see if I make it to the next round.

Any task that I have, I break it down into as many parts as possible. It makes each seem much more manageable, regardless of whether or not it actually is. Sitting down to do a few of (or a buncha) those tasks, for me, becomes immediately more manageable. And with a few folks to work with, that would make it run all the more smoothly.

Currently, I’m balancing grad school and freelancing. Either would be hectic, but both is almost overwhelming. Almost. I understand that MRR wouldn’t supplant my income, but without having to worry about rent, I’d have an easy go of pay bills and the like. 30-60 hours doesn’t seem like anything beyond what I’m doing now.

9. Describe your musical tastes. What bands do you like and which genres/styles are your favorites—and which ones you dislike the most—and why.

I grew up on punk – and some EBHC. But I’m gonna say that ‘70s style punk stuff and garage make up as much of my listening as anything else related to rock. It’s simple, visceral and still feels like a secret language I can speak to other, various weirdoes.

Late ‘60s jazz (Pharaoh Sanders, who I saw at Yoshi’s, is a favorite), country blues, psych all get some rotation. Music that’s gutsy gets me. Even if the folks playing aren’t adept at whatever instrument they’re wielding as long as a passion is related to my ears, I can at least understand it.

I stay away from techno or house (it sounds like cocaine, which is a difficult thing to do, but not entertaining) – although IDM is a nice refuge every once in a while.

10. Within the punk scene, what individuals or bands do you respect or admire (outside of musically) and why?

I went to school in south-eastern Ohio. There was a band down there called Geraldine which was made up of some locals. Apart from them putting on one of the better live shows I’ve ever witnessed, they were able to create an entire scene sans reliance on the college kids in town. Centered around a bar called the Union, the band and its affiliates ran a booking agency, the club and some DIY venue. The only band left from that cohort is We March, who I believe has been covered in MRR. I don’t think, they’ll gain too much national attention, but they’ve been at it for a decade and still tour constantly. That’s respectable.

11. How do you feel about your hometown (or where you currently live) and what would you think about moving to San Francisco? Why would you consider leaving your town to move to SF?

I actually just moved to Chicago for school. So, my attachment to this place isn’t all that strong. But previously, I lived in Oakland, so yeah, the Bay is to my liking. It’s already started to get pretty cold here at night and who wants to ride bikes in sub-freezing weather?

I referenced this in a previous question, but with all of the information, knowledge and sheer pleasure I got out of MRR it seems right for me to give back.

And yeah, putting school on hold to be a part of MRR is something that I’d do.

MRR: An Open Application (Part Two)

4. What would you want to change about MRR? Be specific.

The two main things would be the layout as well the way that the columns/features are handled.

The columns are regular draw. You guys sporadically feature some sort historical component: a look back at a band or scene that was an important component in helping punk arrive where it is today. But if there were a regular space for a feature like that, I think that it’d help keep readers coming back on a monthly basis.

That being said, some of the more feature style pieces – the queer issue specifically – could have used a more newsy approach to them. It wouldn’t necessarily need to be straight journalism, but there’re certainly enough creative people contributing to the mag that a few alternative storytelling techniques could be incorporated. It doesn’t need to all be grids and maps, but sometimes the dense pages of text can be intimidating.

In regards to the reviews section, from the time that I began reading MRR to now, the change (less cluttered) is most certainly a positive. But even the disparate parts of the section (books, music, zines, etc.) look different. The rest of the mag, while understandably copping a punky/photocopied aesthetic, can be really distracting. I don’t think that every page or section needs to be treated the same, but clutter isn’t good.        Referring back to Skyscraper, part of what attracted me to them was how clean it was. There’s text and a picture, not splattered backgrounds that change article to article.

5. What are some ideas you have for articles or theme issues?

I just tipped my hand a bit, but features culling lost bands from the past in towns that folks wouldn’t necessarily think of is always interesting. I don’t believe that the MRR should devolve into Ugly Things. The historical component to not only the music that MRR is dedicated to, but the political ideas that it supports begs for historical explication.

With the demise of Punk Planet a few years ago, there’s a bit more room to maneuver within the realm of political thinking – not just social stuff either. And considering that Berkeley is right there and boasts some of the most forward thinking scientists on the planet, interviews with those folks would be interesting – there are solar panels atop a good many campus dwellings, for instance. DIY implications of Silicon Valley technology and its subsequent developments are right there as well.

I don’t propose to leave the niche of punk/hc, but reaching out to readers that might be hesitant to pick up a punk mag might find incentive with a bit more of news component.

6. How would you describe your political beliefs?

I won’t ever align myself with a political party. And the word liberal is a rather disgusting thing to me. Having said that, the first election I was able to vote in, I tapped Nader. That might not have been the best decision, but Democrats are as ridiculous as Republicans.

I’m left of most folks I know, but probably not left of the people who congregate at the LongHaul/Infoshop in Berkeley.

MRR: An Open Application (Part One)

So, MRR is looking for a new co-ordinator/editor/honcho. I threw my hat in the ring. I figured the questions would be interesting - and indepth. I was right. Here's how it all went down...

1. Who are you anyway and why do you want to be the coordinator of MRR?

Who am I? I’m Dave. Why, you say? I say that the reason I know about music is from reading MRR cover to cover for roughly six years while I was growing up. That’s pretty danged impressive, even to me. Without having read the mag, I’d probably be a drastically different person. Growing up in Cleveland didn’t necessarily afford me exposure to a slew of punk kids. There were some, of course – but MRR made the potentiality of the music more tangible to me. It was even pretty good about covering some of my city’s HC bands as well as the TKOs, who might still be my favorite punk band.

After taking so much out of MRR, I think that helping to run the show would not only be a just conclusion to all of this, but also a way for me to better acclimate myself to publishing. ‘Cause really, how many music mags have remained vital for over twenty plus years – and no, Rolling Stone, obviously, doesn’t count.

2. What do you like about MRR? Include both specifics (sections, columnists, etc.) and generalities (things we do or do not cover, policies, general direction/philosophical aim of the zine).

George Tabb has always stuck with me. I can’t say that Furious George ended up being my favorite band, but I could read about it and be entertained. The conversational tone – not just his, but a great many of the columnists – made punk seem like a friendly entity. Tabb’s drunken stories were good, which didn’t hurt either.

Scene reports, though kinda erratic in quality, were always a decent way for me to figure out what was happening in places I never thought really mattered.

The guest columnists that jive with the topics discussed within issue-specific editions of MRR are usually top notch. There’s a familiarity with topics that’s pretty reassuring even as the writing style that’s made use of seems familiar and simple enough for anyone to follow (I’ll address the other half of what I think about these folks in the answer to #4).

The top ten list and record reviews are indispensible introductions to new music as well.

3. What other zines/magazines do you read and like?

I wrote/write for Skyscraper – they ceased publishing physical copies at the beginning of last summer. The combination of long form analysis as well as simple design made it not only one of more insightful journals out there, but easy to get through.

URB, who also just quit publishing last month, always gave me some insider view of new acts that MRR wouldn’t cover. I also had a brief flirtation with Stop Smiling and Alarm. The writing in those last two are/were incredible even if the acts that they covered weren’t always my favorites.

Signal to Noise, while a bit to obscure, has a few writers that really need to be noticed. Again, the drawback of covering stuff that no one cares about makes reading that mag a sometimes harrowing, page skipping endeavor.

Antipodes: The Pin Group

I really like words and I got to learn a new one as a result of reading about the Pin Group. Antipode is a British vernacular word that refers to folks in either New Zealand or Australia. There’s some long taxonomy, but that’s less interesting to know than the word itself.

Regardless of how Brits referred to ‘em Roy Montgomery (guitar), Ross Humphrey (bass), and Peter Stapleton (drums) comprised the Pin Group, which formed during the early ‘80s and only lasted till around ’84. In that time, though, the band was able to record a clutch of songs that would seemingly inform the kiwi acts that followed on Flying Nun Records in the coming years.

Releasing its debut single, "Ambivalence" b/w “Columbia,” in 1981 the Pin Group counted the disc as the initial album issued on Flying Nun. The two tracks are unendingly scant on full production styles coming in as only the most simple trio workout from the year. There’s been a lot made of the influence of Joy Division on not just the band’s music, but on Montgomery’s singing. That’s not unwarranted, but the darkness inherent in the Pin Group’s sound comes as much from stripped down punk as anywhere else.

Apparently, the trio that made up the Pin Group didn’t press too many discs when they were actually releasing music. So the fact that any of this stuff made it through twenty plus years is just short of miraculous.

Retrospective, released via Siltbreeze a few years back, pulls together that first single as well as the group’s second clutch of sides – “Coat” b/w “Jim.” No less sparse, these two tracks maintain a tie to punk while adding in a bit more melodic flair. There’s a let up of despair in “Coat” as Montgomery gets through the chorus. Revisiting the same track a decade later, and included here as well, the band oddly enough sounds more ‘80s-styled than on the original.

Elsewhere – as Retrospective’s production qualities improve a bit – some of the sullen depravity being related on other tracks takes a break as the Pin Group wrenches out a gothy “Low Rider.” The song certainly won’t make folks feel like tooling around in a car, but it does two things differently. Firstly, the wah-wah guitar, while appropriate but still surprising, points to a growth in the band musically that might not have been too evident on other tracks. Secondly, breaking up the pervasive bummers that other tracks levy on listeners, this track’s wink at fans should have brought smiles to despondent faces. That doesn’t mean the song is an album highlight, just an interesting way to look into the band and how they approached music.

So this isn’t straight punk, but neither is the Clean, or whoever else from down under one would care to cite. But the music here is such a clear descendent of that tougher stuff that as a fan of the genre, the Pin Group needs to be considered a peer of Television Personalities and the like. It’s true. Consume.

The Professionals: PostPistolRock

As entry into whatever punk is there aren’t too many other better places to start than the Sex Pistols – ok the Ramones, but who else after that? Those two bands do really define the genre to folks that don’t have a real grasp on the music, what it is or where it came from. And that’s understandable. But considering that the Sex Pistols only had a single full length album – the soundtrack to The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle kinda counts, but not really - it should have been a reasonable assumption that Steve Jones and Paul Cook would go on to form a band. They did. And it was called the Professionals. It was good, for the most part.

In writings about the group, most note that waiting a few years subsequent to the Sex Pistols breaking up probably wasn’t a sound business decision. That’s more than true, although, it’s safe to assume that both musicians needed a bit of time to decompress after being involved in a tremendously hectic situation that ended up in two deaths and people being stranded in various cities in the States. But by 1980, Jones and Cook had crafted a clutch of tunes that they were ready to levy upon the second crop of punkers.

It’s also been noted elsewhere, that by ’80s derivations of punk had become the new vanguard in underground music, making any attempt to return to the genre a bit difficult. Even with that fact, the two discs the Professionals released are filled with traditional rock sounds, cranked up to nasty volumes.

Some of the lyrics on I Didn't See it Coming – most notably on “Join the Professionals,” which was originally released as a single – are a bit spotty, but musically, the recombination of punk and what preceded it worked out pretty well.

Of course, the Pistols that the Professionals comprise didn’t really sing in that older band and for a reason. So the sing/speak that gets passed off as vocalization is weak in places – “Northern Slide” perhaps. But again, with the music being so well conceived it kinda doesn’t matter too much.

The singles tacked on to I Didn’t See It Coming are really what’s worth the price of admission. “1-2-3,” even with its inane title, should be familiar to any self respecting punker – as should “Mods, Skins, Punks.” So it might be said that the Professionals didn’t craft a good album, they just put out some good sides.

With a car crash in the States making all involved a bit weary to forge ahead, the Professionals called it a day soon after the album’s release. The future of the band very well may have included some forays into middling ‘80s pop (“Friday Night Square” and the song’s tempo and less than aggressive guitar points at that), but maybe not. As all parted ways, though, Cook and Jones knew that they’d both remain in music. They did. So we can thank the Pistols for that, if not just for Never Mind the Bollocks…

Jay Reatard: This Weirdo Sitting in the Bushes (Part Two)

DJC: Was that a watershed moment?

JR: Who knows if he wouldn’t have written back, I’d still be in a band that was trying to sound like Rancid…Kids just don’t have punk records fall into their lap. It’s a process of discovering music through things that are more accessible. It’s a system of rivers, where it keeps getting smaller and something branches off into something else…I turned down a major label deal to be on Matador [Records]. I could be signed to Universal Records if I wanted to be.

 

DJC: They make Indiana Jones.

And Lil Wayne. I went to their office, and I was just walking around thinking, ‘Who is that guy?’ I know everyone in here…It was funny, it was an experience.

 

DJC: Where are the offices?

JR: Beverly Hills. There’s this one [street] corner where it’s Universal’s headquarters, Google’s there, Yahoo’s on the other corner. It’s kinda like the mainframe. It’s where all culture manipulation is going down.

 

The guy I met with was actually really nice. I’d been talking to him for about 8 months, everything was really good…He was an artist representative and just not too much in control. He pushed it [the contract] as far through the machine as he could.

 

It just got to the point where the contract was going to be faxed over and there was one more loophole for me to jump through to make it happen. I was like, ‘I’m absolutely not doing that.’

 

DJC: What was the breaking pointed?

JR: There’s a lady that’s around 60 years old that kinda runs the whole show…and she said, ‘Well, I’m not so sure about this guy. Before this kid can be signed, he has to fly up to New York….’ It was a performance, just for her…That would’ve been the first of many things I wouldn’t have wanted to do…You have to be incredibly cautious every step of the way or you might fuck up and sign something that’s going to compromise you…Usually, you just use your gut, you know? In the end…whatever you’re doing you always have to go with that.

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