Albums Listened To Today

[Boxer Monkey]

Today, like every day for the past week or so, I listened to Richard Hell's "Blank Generation" on the bathroom stereo while I took a shower. I really gravitate toward the songs that aren't "hits" -- "Down at the Rock 'n' Roll Club" is an awesome song to listen to while you're getting ready to go out, and I love the plan, the melody for which reminds me vaguely of "Ain't It Fun" by Rocket From the Tombs, for some reason.

Anyway, that's been the only album I've had time to listen to today as my day's deep, dark sucking has pre-empted my listening to anything else. This has -- no sh*t -- been one of the very worst days of my life.

(Anybody know any painless suicide methods? Black capsule? Anyone?)

[Chris D.]

First -- I love the avatar.

Two -- I always loved "The Plan" and "Down at the Rock and Roll Club."  "New Pleasure," too.  Shame he and Verlaine couldn't combine, as good as both of their exclusive output is.

Third -- What's wrong, man?

[Jason]

Yeah, we might have to derail this thread......what's wrong BD?

[Reverend Joshua Sloane]

Nirvana - Bleach

Brian Wilson Presents SMiLE

Sondre Lerche - Two Way Monologue

Pavement - Brighten The Corners

[Boxer Monkey]

Sorry -- don't derail (you guys are nice, and my pathetic plea for help is beneath us all): It's just ... *sigh* ... family stuff. I come from an especially volatile clan, and a planned reunion lasted all of two screaming minutes. Just ... awful. Plus there were girlfriend issues, which have, seemingly -- thankfully -- been resolved. So at least I can point to something good coming of my day. It's like you can take what life gives you and be sh*tty about it, or you can try to appreciate the little things that make it worthwhile and try to transmit that positively to the people you care about. I'm trying more often to opt for the latter. Life's too short.

Anyway, yeah -- glad you like the avatar, Chris. ASM #33 is sort of a talisman for me, has been since I was a wee tween. (Although the final page of #32 might be my favorite in all of comics ... best, most HEARTBREAKING cliffhanger I've ever read.) I've been reading a lot more comics lately. It's something quiet to do when the rest of the house (read: the girl) is sleeeping. I'm pretty nocturnal.

But Richard Hell: We need to start a thread about this guy. He totally hits me where Verlaine leaves me cold. There's just something more visceral about him, whereas Verlaine's lyrics -- brilliant as they are -- project a distance because they're couched in those heavy metaphors. Hell is more street, more gut-level impact. You get the feeling he's much more lived than Verlaine, authentic. And Bob Quine's playing perfectly reflects that atmosphere. He's clean like Verlaine but there's a chaos element reminiscient of Richard Lloyd; it's like he's the perfect summation of the guitar tensions in Television but better than either guitar player in that band (although I still tend to favor Lloyd, if only for sentimental reasons), plus he's just one guy. (Not to overlook Ivan Julian, but Quine really makes the Voidoids' sound for me ... )

Please forgive my earlier whining. I'm such a fucking baby sometimes.

[Reverend Joshua Sloane]

Please forgive my earlier whining. I'm such a fodaing baby sometimes.

Everybody needs a way to release their thoughts. That sort of stuff will keep you from sleep otherwise.

[Jason]

Sorry -- don't derail (you guys are nice, and my pathetic plea for help is beneath us all): It's just ... *sigh* ... family stuff. I come from an especially volatile clan, and a planned reunion lasted all of two screaming minutes. Just ... awful. Plus there were girlfriend issues, which have, seemingly -- thankfully -- been resolved. So at least I can point to something good coming of my day. It's like you can take what life gives you and be sh*tty about it, or you can try to appreciate the little things that make it worthwhile and try to transmit that positively to the people you care about. I'm trying more often to opt for the latter. Life's too short.

Please forgive my earlier whining. I'm such a fodaing baby sometimes.

I'm sorry to hear that, man. Tomorrow is another day.

Nothing wrong with you whining, you're just venting frustrations.

[Chris D.]

I hope things look up Andy.  Family stuff sucks the most.  Sometimes you just have to keep the focus on yourself to move on.

Great thoughts on Richard Hell.  I like Verlaine more because I think he's a better artist, but I can understand why Hell touches you more.  Hell is more about shoving an emotion in your face, while I think Verlaine is more interest in abstract experiences.  Not necessarily detached, but less concrete.  "Little Johnny Jewel" and "Blank Generation" kind of sum up each one's personality.

I think I'm also moving away from traditional views of "detachment" and realizing that what we call detachment is another approach to emotion, not necessarily the avoidance of it.

For me, some emotional Verlaine work:

"The Dream's Dream"
"What I Heard"
"Last Night" (a HUGE emotional moment from him)
"Scientist Writes a Letter"
"Guiding Light"
"Carried Away"

Could go on.  While Verlaine obviously cares about lyrics, I think he expresses a lot just through the music -- like McCartney or Brian, but if they were really into abstract poetry.  He may not seem to confront you with something like Hell, but I think musically he does if you look at the music as a version of the lyrics, which it always is.

[Bean Bag]

Sketches of Spizain

[Boxer Monkey]

I love all of the Verlaine tunes you name (except "Scientist Writes a Letter," which I haven't heard). Verlaine is very -- yeah -- ABSTRACT, while Hell is more direct and confrontational. I can appreciate abstraction, but I think I just tend to favor the gut approach; sometimes it's harder to plug into Verlaine because I can't check my brain at the door when I drop the needle. (Not that I do that with Hell, but ... ) Verlaine's lyrics have a wonderful way of creeping up on you. It took me a long while before I think I really UNDERSTOOD what a song like "See No Evil" is about, but "Love Comes In Spurts" grabbed me by the crotch. It's too bad Hell and Verlaine couldn't have kept it together; they had an incredible synergy. You can mix up "Marquee Moon" and "Blank Generation" and it almost works as a whole. [Shatner voice] "Flip sides ... of ... the SAME COIN ... the ... PLAYER ... on the OTHER SIDE ... "

[Chris D.]

Hahaha, great post!

I think the part with Hell's interview in England's Dreaming is pretty sad.  You ever read that?

[Jeff Mason]

White Stripes -- Get Behind Me Satan.  The Nurse is rocking my world.  So is My Doorbell.

[Jason]

The Nurse is rocking my world.

Don't we all just wish that Meg White would rock our world?

[Chris D.]

Yes, Jason.  Every day of my life.

[Boxer Monkey]

I think the part with Hell's interview in England's Dreaming is pretty sad.  You ever read that?

No -- that's one rock book I've always meant to and wanted to read that I still haven't. What's sad about it?

Speaking of sad, ever read Hell's thoughts on the death of Johnny Thunders ... ?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

JOHNNY THUNDERS AND THE ENDLESS PARTY

           Johnny's party is over. Thinking about him this morning (May 9) in New York. It's another drizzly colorless day as it was for his funeral last week.

           I hope when I die people don't go soft about me. It's stupid. Apart from his family and four or five lifelong friends, probably the people who'll miss Johnny most are those he exploited. The ones who were made to feel important because he spent time with them in order to get them to do things for him. Of course, he never even really had to try to get this kind of treatment: people fell over themselves to get next to him. They liked to be near him just to look at him, as you would a jungle carnivore. And a girl could not be wrong to have him at her side. That's how he made his living, like a lot of rock and roll performers. I don't think Johnny would want people to go soft about him.

           Then again, he lit into journalists a lot for not treating him with enough respect. He even wrote a song ("I Tell The Truth Even When I'm Lying") replying to what he considered their unfair and insulting treatment of him. It included this "open letter to the music press: I revoke your poetic license, you probably got on 42nd Street, the same place you got your lover, the same place your mother got your father..." When he told me how much he liked Japan, it was mostly because the people are "real polite and kind. I tell you I did 40 or 50 interviews and not one person asked me about drugs." That's what he attacked them for, asking him about drugs. While of course he himself exploited heroin's significance in the maintenance of his bad boy image. He included conspicuous syringes in publicity photos, and frequently mimed jamming needles into his forearm during his stage act.

           I've found my try at writing this -- including viewing videos of recent Thunders shows, reading old interviews, listening to tapes and records, talking to some of his closest old and new friends, and, especially, recalling in detail a lot of time I spent with Johnny myself -- spooky and scary as well as sad (where's the good part?). Mainly because I find myself identifying with him, so that it becomes almost as if something I say about him I'm saying about myself. And that to feel something or evoke a feeling about him is to feel the same thing about myself. (Of course, that's what stars are good for.)

           But the main qualities, the virtues, that set Johnny apart were that he didn't give a f*** and he dressed great.

           Johnny, of course, was the rock and roll Dean Martin of heroin, at least in his last decade. I've known him since 1974, which I think was the last year before he had a real narcotics habit. I admired the Dolls; they inspired me. They were the first pure rock and roll group. "Pure" in that they knew and operated on the assumption that rock and roll is at least 50% (maybe 100%, maybe 200%) attitude. They were the first group that regarded themselves as stars rather than thinking of themselves as musicians, or writers, or vocalists. The Dolls were for New York groups sort of what the Sex Pistols were for British groups. They excited everybody by being flawless: in it for fun, never pretentious or pretending to be anything they weren't; they were ballsy, noisy, tough, funny, sharp, young, and real. Stupid and ill. They mocked the media, threw up on grownups, and kidded with the kids in a language of drugs and sex.

           And I don't think there's really much an argument to be made against the observation that Johnny peaked with the Dolls, when he was 20-21. Even his most recent sets undeniably picked up whenever he played a Dolls tune. (He didn't do many of them, but you'd hear a "Lonely Planet Boy" or "Personality Crisis.") The next 17-18 years were just spent getting to know him a little better.

           There was something perfect about Johnny. Though because he was a legendary archetype, you tended to think of him as predictable, as a type. You tended to condescend to him because you thought you had him nailed (and otherwise he might be a threat). But he always surprised me when I talked to him. The surprising thing was how smart he was. He was smart in the same way he dressed so perfectly. Smart the same way Elvis Presley was. You couldn't top him and he didn't delude himself.

           (I remember the revelation it was to me when I realized I'd rather be smart in the way Elvis Presley was than in the way, say, Ludwig Wittgenstein was. The thing was, you could imagine you could be smart like Wittgenstein by just thinking hard enough, but Elvis just had it. It was almost spiritual. A kind of grace. A kind of innate ruling of the world. That's what you wanted and Johnny had it. And he knew it -- to him, the highest compliment was to be "as good as Frank Sinatra and Elvis.")

           He was perfect because he made no apologies. He was just graceful. He instinctively knew how to make do with what he had. (Though he made a lot of bad records.)

           Rock and roll, of course, is about not growing up and settling down, defying those who have, and living for sex and other types of fun. That's who Johnny was. The New York version.

           Johnny made his choice, or lived out his destiny, and he had a right to it. He always went to drugs to be able to face the day, and he always went to his guitar to be himself. (Though he spent most of his time watching tv.) There's no judging to be done. It's like Marlene Deitrich in Touch of Evil when she sums up Quinlan with, "He was a man..." I've got to admit it annoys me too to see cynical, exploitive, self-centered, death-drive get glamorized. I hated the Chet Baker documentary for that reason and Chet and Johnny have a lot in common. They were both junkies who always put themselves first and treated their talent as just another little windfall they could squeeze for all the narcotics and fancy clothes they might be able to drain from it. (Johnny: "I would never become righteous. Everybody's entitled to do what they want if they don't hurt me." It took Johnny to say "me.")

           Johnny though was the kind of person you always forgave. He did everything with such impenetrable confidence, everything about him was so up-front, with his soulful murmer in your ear making you feel like a human insider, you could only say "Well, that's J.T...." and write it off. (His most frequent companion of the last year telling me with real fondness how he'd always bring her something -- some knick-knack from his bedroom wrapped in a scarf -- before he asked to borrow money.)

           It was impossible to insult him to his face; he could hold his own with anyone. You wouldn't want to anyway; he was so sweet and soft-spoken (still conveying that you'd better not touch his hair).

           One of the most widely felt reactions to Johnny's death has got to be that the conclusion has been foregone for so long now that there isn't any drama left. In other words, we've considered him dead since 1980. That's a nasty thing to say, and, even though I myself must admit it occured to me, it isn't really true or fair. In fact, one of Johnny's distinctions was that he was always worth seeing. (For all the above reasons: he had that kernel of talent, he didn't give a f***, and he dressed great.)

***

           [April 29] Johnny's funeral today. At the cemetary, as words are spoken over the coffin, and flowers dropped on it, out in the dreary day, finally tapping into the sadness. Like the sadness is a dimension that is always there but we have developed over the years such a way of avoiding. Sort of like the way in his last concerts, in the light, he looked scary, like an accusation or a reminder you'd rather not get.

[1991]

[Sheriff John Stone]

Boxer, I appreciate you posting this. I'm an old New York Dolls fan, never saw this before. Thanks...

[Chris D.]

Great article.  That was a really well-done piece.  I never saw it before.  Great description of Thunders' gifts, though.

No -- that's one rock book I've always meant to and wanted to read that I still haven't. What's sad about it?

Jon Savage visits Hell in New York for an intereview, and talks about how bitter Hell is over the Sex Pistols achieving what Hell wanted to...kind of implying Television.  If Verlaine hadn't held out for a record deal and Hell stayed, Television would be the Sex Pistols in a lot of ways.

Read the book.

[Chris D.]

[Boxer Monkey]

54,\uthor=Chris D. link=topic=368.msg15858#msg15858 date=1139542458]
Great article.  That was a really well-done piece.  I never saw it before.  Great description of Thunders' gifts, though.

Read the book.

Hell is one of the few (maybe the only?) rock muscians known to me who might be a better writer than he is a musician. Glad you and the sheriff dug the Thunders piece (I, too, am a big Dolls fan). Check out Hell's Web site; it's full of good stuff. There a piece about his dad that's just incredible.

I gladly would read the Savage book -- if I could find it! (Yeah, yeah: eBay ... )

[monkee knutz]

Friends & 20/20- re-realizing 20/20 is a fantastic album even if it is hodge-podge.

[I. Spaceman]

Completely fantastic.

[mark goddard]

Out of the afternoon.....Roy Haynes Quartet with Roland Kirk

[Boxer Monkey]

Today I cleaned house before work. I listened to some crappy local indie band's CD, with one track being enough for me to deduce they're no different from any/everybody else doing that kind of music (read: equally unimaginative). Also played Love's first album (awesome!) and parts of Van Duren's "Idiot Optimism," parts of which are good (the rest: not so much). Honestly, I was much too interested in reclaiming my surroundings from the complete entropy that had descended within the last couple of weeks. Usually, Chilton solo stuff gets me motivated for housecleaning, but I've been really burned out lately. (Go figure.) Richard Hell got some shower play again, but I think I'm gonna have to find a new album for that.

(NOBODY CARES.)

[Chris D.]

they're no different from any/everybody else doing that kind of music (read: equally unimaginative).

I found this news story about the Gorillaz on yourtube yesterday.  They talked about how 50 Cent said Demon Days shouldn't get nominated for any awards at some ceremony because the group wasn't "real."  Funny -- I know the album just appeared on my shelf.  Anyway, "unimaginative" is what I thought.  50 Cent's music, that is.  I hear you on local music though.  There is one really cool guy in my area, but that's it.

[Boxer Monkey]

Music is like any other of the arts or, for that matter, most things reflective of humankind insofar as the majority of it is terrible.