Greenings! I do believe Spring is starting to sprout! I saw a wee birdie today, with a bit of straw or grass in its beak… Telltale signs, mes amis. Let’s hope we don’t all perish in nuclear war. This time of year reminds me of cutting off pretty much all my hair in the last bits of 1979. Why? Because I want to cut it right now. I actually returned to a mullet style recently, but without the long tail. Early on, I was asked more than once if I’d had cancer radiation treatments. I always said Yes.
Now I’m almost OLD, which is entirely bizarre, but also kind of nice, in a way. I was, as my brother used to tell me, hatched out on a stump in the sun, in December 1960. Because I generally relate to people depending on what era of music they grew up with, I explain myself (partly, at least) as being a rowdy, fire-breathing teenager on the tail end of the Boomers, and on the forefront of Punk Rock, and my allegiance is to the latter, rather than the Boomers— they’re all really OLD now, and I’m only a bit old (so far). I’m still rowdy, I still jump around to certain music, and I still love quite a bit of Punk stuff, although I admit I’m quite picky about it, but then, I always have been. I do remember taking other people’s records OFF the record player, and winging them at the wall or whatever, because I objected to the sounds coming out. WTH!!! I don’t do that anymore, but I might leave if you put on, say, ABBA. If I saw someone else do that now, I’d be shocked. Shocked!
I remember being very, very young, maybe four or five, riding in the back seat of the car with my older brother and my parents in the front seat. A song came on the radio, “Roll Over Beethoven.” I sat up, ears pricked up, eyes wide, and grabbed the back of the front seat and asked urgently, “What’s that?!?” My mother calmly answered, “That’s Rock ‘n’ Roll, honey.” I was on fire forever more. I was so wound up about it that my folks gave me a transistor radio for Christmas that year. I knew almost everything on the Top 40 list, and some other stuff, too.
It’s likely, time-wise, that the song in the car was the Beatles’ version. And while I’ve always also loved softer things (like Simon and Garfunkle), and Classical (especially guitar), and some other kinds of things, my ultimate musical Electrification has always been fast rock, preferably with those incurably contagious guitar riffs (I play guitar, myself, but I play air guitar much better).
Well, some Classical can be pretty rowdy, too, come to think of it— I’d wager Beethoven would have liked Rock n Roll, if he’d been born in my time. And I’ve always loathed the noise I refer to as “White Jazz,” which has no beat at all, apparently, and makes me feel like I’ve drowned in a large vat of the most tasteless, papery oatmeal that comes in a little package, just add water— yuck. Over time I’ve come to realize that I like a lot of the rest of the Jazz genre, especially Dixieland Jazz. I always said, if you can’t dance to it, it’s sh*t. Yeah, I was never opinionated. About anything. Nor potty-mouthed, ever, at all, fukkin A.
While I luuuuv so much of the music of the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s, the music that rattled my cage so hard that I had to fly right on outta there was Punk. In 1977 I was 16, for almost the entire year (born in December). At first, the only band I heard was the Sex Pistols; I heard it on the evening news, actually. reported on by grownups, and they weren’t impressed, and actually, neither was I. I had to get out and live in a dorm before I was taught to appreciate Punk Rock, and my teacher was Pierre, a loud, rowdy, red-headed rocker from New Orleans— he had punk hair before I did. “You gotta listen to the entire album THREE TIMES!!!” he demanded. He and I were the most hyperactive people I knew; we were the only people either of us knew that had a rowdy reaction to Quaaludes. Later we were called “ADD” or “ADHD,” but I’ve always known that it was actually Rowdiness.
Punk Rock blew my head off in 1979 (Thank You, Pierre.) I learned to like the Sex Pistols, but I did prefer Rowdy with a heavy dose of actual melody… Even Black Flag had melody. But I realized much later that the Sex Pistols were trying to make a statement. And they certainly did make one! But… my first love was absolutely The Clash. I saw them live in Texas three times, and I met Joe Strummer on the Riverwalk in San Antonio. San Antonio is where my teen and early adult life centered; SA was pretty much out of the “In” thing, at least at that time. I only ever saw The Ramones in SA, and I was famous after that for jumping up onstage wearing a cub scout T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and doing a “dance step” that looked like you were running really fast, in place— was it called “The Run”? I dunno; I think I lasted for about three seconds, and then was literally thrown off the stage into the crowd by a huge roadie, and fortunately, a bunch of guys caught me— the floor was covered in broken glass.
My punkster pals and I would fill up two carloads and drive up to Austin to get our ya-ya’s out. It was brilliant, as they say in Jolly Olde, where our beloved music originated, and Austin was the Hot Spot of the entire region, and had been for a long time, for music (still is, I think, although it’s gentrified horribly now). In those wonderful early days girls could still jump around in the mosh pits, and the bands were just so much fun. I remember one local band had a song called “Nuke The Whales,” which of course was sarcastic, and we loved it, and we loved them. You didn’t have to know how to dance, because we mostly just jumped up and down (the Pogo). We’d go outside for fresh air, and were literally drenched in sweat. Good times.
I sometimes hung with the Big Boys when I was in Austin, and I still have one of their CD’s. I knew a couple of the Butthole Surfers from school— three of them until they rudely tossed out Scott Stevens (now a famous local Austin artist)— we ran in the same gang, although they were utterly absorbed into what I would call the Boys Only Borg (except for sex, of course). For a feminista like me it was kind of off-putting… They said they were from Austin, but they were from SAN ANTONE, and if they deny it, then they can answer to me… They got so full of themselves that after a while I lost interest. I think they became junkies, or at least Gibby did.
I saw U2 in Austin the first time they ever came to the States. I was almost arrested for shouting “Faster, Faster!” at them, but it was a joke. Fortunately, they didn’t know it was me. But I will always love The Clash best of all. Joe Strummer was the best Rock screamer EVER (Should I Stay or Should I Go), except for John Lennon (Money). I think Lennon probably would have liked The Clash, if he’d had time to hear them— maybe he did. (Sometime I’ll write the post about one of those Clash concerts… it deserves its own post.)
I still have a bunch of that music on CD… I started out with records, gave them all to a friend and got cassette tapes; then I threw all those away and got CD’s… I do still listen to The Clash now and then— I still love that they, like another band I’ll always love, The Beatles— played in different genres and kept things interesting. I listen to The Jam, too, and every long while I listen to The Big Boys— I wonder what they’re all doing now. I later got into Green Day, and I still listen to them, too. I saw Billie Joe somewhere and was shocked that he looked sort of old… Joe Strummer died years ago, quite young— well, 50, I think. Damn, that was depressing. But I’ve expanded my outlook some by now. I like Enya these days, who might have irritated me back when I was 18 or 20. I’m not quite as rowdy, physically, as I was as a youngster, though I think I still qualify; in some ways, like maybe in my head, I might be more SANE, certainly waaaaay more sober… and perhaps a little bit less hyper, and a bit more diplomatic. I think. I don’t mind those days being over, but they were fun.
The Clash were great, they worked so hard touring the USA, Mick Jones & Paul Simonon are aging well & have been working with the Gorillas, Topper isn't looking so well & admits his life is a struggle post addiction. Simonon article;
https://www.cycleworld.com/2015/01/26/paul-simonon-the-clash-rocker-artist-motorcycle-rider/
The Pistols & The Jam were SO English as were another band of the late 70's; The Specials who were just down the road from me in Coventry (Clash manager Bernie Rhodes gets an honary mention); https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgCZN1rU5co
Did X-ray Specs make the airwaves in the states? 1234! Bondage - UP YOURS!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogypBUCb7DA
If you enjoyed that, this is their one & only album, 1978's Germ Free Adolescents;
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FzZj0KQOBIU&list=OLAK5uy_mrV_X7csUrk0UvR_hL9Umr0bTy4sBB7iQ&index=6
Actually, I DID see the Clash in San Antonio. Once. Twice in Austin.