Ballad of a Loved Doll Superstar
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us”-Marianne Williamson
The first San Francisco Music Week has just concluded, which featured among MANY things a panel I was asked to moderate last Friday: the Legends panel featuring individuals who had made significant accomplishments in their career, framed by the era and style they embodied. There were two legendary members of the original punk world on the panel, Penelope Houston from The Avengers (one of the few punk bands active in the Bay at the very beginning of the movement) and Bob Mould of Minneapolis’ Hüsker Dü, who played in San Francisco throughout the eighties, nineties and aughts, finally moving here a little over a decade ago.
The conversation with all the panelists was incredible…Big Rich talking about growing up hip hop in the Fillmore and Aaron Axelsen, music director of Live 105 and promotor of Popscene, going over a career of being often the first to champion so many of the now-classic alternative rock bands, with a personal passion towards British ones. For me, who grew up as a punk enthusiast in San Francisco, who interned at the (problematic) label CD Presents that featured releases by The Avengers, The Offs, Tales of Terror and Billy Bragg (first label to release him in the country), any and all insights into the early days of the punk scene help fill in the gaps. Here are a few:
The early punk community in SF was small and tight knitted. Houston talked about how there were not that many bands, and the ones that were around did not just conform to one sound, not at all, but instead “punk” was an umbrella for bands pushing against the norms via whatever artistic expressions they harnessed. The members of the bands were a healthy mix of genders and races, extremely welcoming to all. It was not until 80s hardcore area when punk developed a more masculine, white aesthetic.
The Mabuhay Gardens…The Mab…was pretty much the ONLY club in the late 70s to feature punk acts (which I had never fully taken in) …it was not until later, when Houston had left the scene (which she was in from ‘77-’79), that more venues opened up to this “alternative” construct.
For bands visiting from out of town, there was a true welcoming by local musicians who would help form a network to bring them back to town. Mould talked about how after just one show at The Mab, Jello Biafra fostered relationship with Hüsker Dü, who stayed with him for 2-3 weeks at one point soon after, playing the Mab regularly (#damnwishIhadseenthat). The stay might have felt too long, Mould quipped, even though the punk code was to stay however long you wanted to.
Many punks ended up sleeping in “the vats.” Mould dropped the name and Houston, who knew well of the vats drew the story out of him: there were literally these empty silos standing in the south-of-the-ballpark 3rd Street area in the early days and if a band was desperate for a place to stay, they could crash in these non-temperature controlled, no window, super high ceiling encasements. Many did…they were like punk biospheres.
Bob Mould is coming out with a new record this week and The Avengers are still touring: the story is definitely evolving.
Even though the panel was about Bay Area Music, I wish I had taken a moment to ask Penelope and Bob how David Johansen and the New York Dolls had influenced them. The news has been spreading about Johansen’s losing battle to cancer, with the singer passing away a few days ago. The New York Dolls were the Johnny Appleseeds of the punk phenomenon. Their take on 50s rock ‘n’ roll…their take on the Rolling Stones’ take on 50s rock ‘n’ roll, set to the trash heroin chic New York music culture of the early glam 1970s…with their lipstick killing long hair, tall pumps, super tight dresses and Johansen’s signature raspy barroom singer growl, The New York Dolls shoved an aggressive new sound down the throats of awaiting rebels.
I first heard the Dolls in 1986 at the 735 Webster House in San Francisco…the same place I first met Penelope. Former-Zeros-and-current-Flying-Color Hector Penalosa sat me down one evening in his room at the residence to play me three of his favorite bands, three bands I was unaware of. The Stooges, the MC5, and the New York Dolls. With the tremendous hooks mainlining from songs like Mystery Girls and Trash: I was instantly addicted. The next day at Revolver Records on Clement St, counterperson Billy pulled out a budget release double LP of the first two Dolls records when I inquired about them. To me, those first two records are really one glorious release, bringing Johansen, Johnny Thunders and the rest of the larger-than-life band members into my bedroom, with fuzzed out dirty music echoing through the whole house.
There is so much being written about Johansen since his passing, Will Hermes offering one of my favorite pieces (including an interview he did with him around 20 years ago). Johansen was before his time; his voice was the champagne bottle smashed against soon to set sail punk rock cruiser. He infused the glam, the trash, the abrasion, the onslaught…the anarchy…into the post-sixties musical come-down. Yes, the Dolls were anarchists, with the only semblance of order being there incredibly written and arranged songs.
I met David Johansen once, at a Blues Foundation party on the eve of the Blues Awards in Memphis. It was a crammed room, and I had to slip through Little Milton and Bobby Rush and Ike Turner to make my way to the bar, which I was pushed against by the crowd as I neared. Taking a deep breath, while giving myself breathing room at the crowded bar, I realized that the person next to me was David Johansen, wearing a sweet charcoal black suit, with his manicured beard and pomp hidden by a short fedora. I told him how much his music meant to me as I was growing up. Johansen struck a pose, held his drink and chin a little higher, saying in his gruff New York accent, “Ohhhhhhhhh thanks, man! You would be amazzzzzzzzed at how I get that allll the time!” followed with a long, elegant sip from his drink, a tip of his hat and a fade right into the throng.
It was not healthy being a New York Doll. Drugs and excessive living ended the lives of some (they lived like the Stones without the Stones money to help keep them alive), and cancer….fuck cancer…brutally hit the others. David Johansen was the last one alive, and he was only 75. But damn, what a band. Johansen had many lives beyond the Dolls…and they are being discussed all over the internet right now. But to me, it is those first Dolls records…that first double LP (ha)…that is the Grecian Urn that will stand so well the test of time.
David Johansen RIP.
Who Wants to Hear More About 1974 Horror?
I might be in the process of watching as many horror films from 1975 for the upcoming Halloween edition of The Signal, but a podcast just got released of me talking about the films I watched from 1974. Nick Taylor was nice enough to have me on his Horror podcast, where he is usually in conversation with horror filmmakers and scholars. For those who do not know, I am trying to watch EVERY horror film from 50 years ago. If you listen to the podcast and want to read even more about ‘74 horror, click here. Taylor writes that we discuss a book that I have written…which has not happened yet…but maybe it should?
Hollywood Black won a Spirit Award last week, and I dug into it shortly after. An incredible new camera angle look at black cinema history, some of which I knew…but much that was new to me, leaving me with a long list of films I need to see. Simien and guests thoughtfully reclaim the legacies of actors like Stepin Fetchit, who have been looked down upon for promoting racial stereotypes, and also do a mighty deep dive into the fabulous era of Blaxploitation, saluting a few important directors who I had not heard of. The whole show is very thoughtful…infuriating and yet inspirational.
Cheater Slicks and Don Howland embrace the ‘Endgame’
The modern garage rock scene owes a hell of a lot to bands like The Cheater Slicks and The Bassholes (and The Gories and Thee Headcoats and The Night Kings and The 68 Comeback). There was a time when garage rock was NOT in the hipster vocabulary and most garage rock shows were attended by just a handful of freaks (hello, to my old friends!). Don Howland’s Bassholes, the band he created after his equally influential Gibson Brothers, and Columbus via Boston’s Cheater Slicks played art damaged, blues infused, punk driven rock n roll, much more complex and beguiling than much of the garage rock blasted through blown out speakers today. But as Penelope Houston discussed in the aforementioned panel: isn’t that the case often with progenitors, paving the dusty country roads?
I was turned on the both bands by Larry Hardy of In The Red Records, an early champion of the modern garage rock sound, standing on the shoulders of Tim Warren and his excellent label Crypt. I found such wonder in the music of these bands, eventually lucky enough to take each into the studio and produce their records (I produced three Cheater Slicks records). The Cheater Slicks have been blowing out noise somewhat consistently for decades, while Howland hung up the Bassholes and hermitted in Asheville. It was sensational to hear the output of the two bands going back into the studio.
I need to write more about both bands another time, but it was exciting getting a single—released by Tom of The Cheater Slicks on his own label—great hearing Don’s voice again. In honor of the single, Radio Ether produced a radio show playing the new single and a generous overview of each of the bands’ careers.
Why Children Love Edward Gorey: A Centenary Tribute
I somehow missed the centennial birthday of Edward Gorey, February 22nd. I was alerted to it by this wonderful homage by my friend Lisa Brown. As art has the quality of bringing people closer together, I share many of those childhood memories with her…loving the beginning and endings of MYSTERY on PBS…just watching the Gorey characters come to life. Seeing Dracula and his set designs. My Mom was in tune enough with my interest that she bought me a Gorey kids activity book, which became ratty from use and love. The next step: she bought me a copy of Amphigorey and Amphigorey Too and suddenly, I was deep deep deep into the dark, playfully tragic 19th century gothic European death vibes of a master. The Hapless Child: that story still crushes me, every time: how could she die right when her father returns!
I cannot think about Gorey without also thinking about The Gotham Book Mart. I went to Gotham with Geoffrey Weiss in 1992—him knowing about my love of Gorey—given that the book store also acted as seller of Edward Gorey signed books, art and ephemera. I had so little money back in those days, and spent whatever I had to buy a signed Gorey print that I am looking at right now as I write these words. I befriended Andreas Brown, the owner of the store, and he put me on a list where anytime a new Gorey book came out, I got a numbered signed first edition. Gorey’s death, and the closing of the Mart, left two huge holes for me.
Happy 100th Edward Gorey. A true weirdo in the greatest sense, whose dark, black and white and blaaacccckkkkkk tragically inked storytelling is such a warm and needed part of existence.
Posted by Spider Stacey…on March 1st 1985, 40 years ago, the first Pogues headlining show was played at McGonagles in Dublin. Listen to it here!
Lucas Museum Director and CEO Steps Down, with George Lucas to Lead ‘Content Direction’
Still unhappy this museum is not in San Francisco….
How the Director of Becoming Led Zeppelin Got the World’s Most Tight-Lipped Band to Talk
“…there’s a big thanks to [Andy] Warhol for this film. There’s a photograph of Jimmy Page when he’s in The Yardbirds meeting Andy Warhol. I called the head of the Warhol archive and said, “Do you have a screen test of Jimmy Page?” And as luck would have it, the guy running the Warhol archive, named Greg Pierce, was a massive Zeppelin fan. He said, “I don’t recall this, but believe me, I am going to search.” He searched the archive and said, “No, we don’t have that.” We tracked down a thousand unseen negatives of Zeppelin from 1969 from this amazing photographer called Ron Raffaelli. We scanned this whole reel of stills of each band member and meticulously restored the scratches. That’s why in the film, you see Robert Plant staring right into the camera, looking at you. That is thanks to the possibility that there might have been an Andy Warhol portrait.”
The Puzzle is no Puzzle
By: James Merrill
A card table in the library stands ready
To receive the puzzle which keeps never coming.
Daylight shines in or lamplight down
Upon the tense oasis of green felt.
Full of unfulfillment, life goes on,
Mirage arisen from time's trickling sands
Or fallen piecemeal into place:
German lesson, picnic, see-saw, walk
With the collie who "did everything but talk" —
Sour windfalls of the orchard back of us.
A summer without parents is the puzzle,
Or should be. But the boy, day after day,
Writes in his Line-a-Day No puzzle.
When the puzzle finally arrives, after days of waiting, it is described in detail:
Out of the blue, as promised, of a New York
Puzzle-rental shop the puzzle comes —
A superior one, containing a thousand hand-sawn,
Sandal-scented pieces. Many take
shapes known already — the craftsman's repertoire
nice in its limitation — from other puzzles:
Witch on broomstick, ostrich, hourglass,
Even (not surely just in retrospect)
An inchling, innocently-branching palm.
“When most of us talk to our dogs, we tend to forget that they're not people.”
― Julia Glass
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Nikos Mamangakis!!!!!!!! Classical guitar…..Noise….beauty.
David - Love the San Diego garagers Schizophonics. Do you know them? Saw them twice at Moe's Alley, Soquel the last couple of years. Bought their hook-ey, roaring records. The guitarist/singer is one of THEE GREATEST rock'n'roll showmen I've ever seen.