Mr. Lydon is 53 years old today.
Long may he live and love.
No spitting, please.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
July 1978 - Neil Young news
Not sure what to tell you here.
Could I live on a desert island without Neil Young.
Probably not.
July 1978 - Clash Aylesbury
It's July 1978.
And the Damned have split up already and I'm just leaving school for crying out loud.
Gary Bushnell from Sounds went to Aylesbury to see The Clash play on the same bill as The Specials.
When you look at a map of the UK, you will notice that Aylesbury is not that far from London but when you come from a tiny country - you drive 300 miles across it you are in the sea - Aylesbury seems miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiles away.
So I didn't go.
I didnt know anyone going, either.
But by this point I didn't want to stand in a gob rainstorm.
You might have liked it.
And the Damned have split up already and I'm just leaving school for crying out loud.
Gary Bushnell from Sounds went to Aylesbury to see The Clash play on the same bill as The Specials.
When you look at a map of the UK, you will notice that Aylesbury is not that far from London but when you come from a tiny country - you drive 300 miles across it you are in the sea - Aylesbury seems miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiles away.
So I didn't go.
I didnt know anyone going, either.
But by this point I didn't want to stand in a gob rainstorm.
You might have liked it.
july 1978 - Petty info
Punk wasn't neatly filling the charts each week.
It wasn't punk all day on the radio because that was all there was.
There was still disco and a bit of left over glitter and tartan from the six formers who went before.
When we went to the gigs, we went for the punk band and heaven forbid if there was a band on the same bill who wore flares and played guitar solos.
You would see the punks down the front walking back and forth with their fingers on their ears saying, "you're shit".
I didn't listen to anyone who wore flares. In fact, it wasn't til 1988 when I was in a car on my way to Cleveland Ohio (don't ask) and some catchy little tune comes on the radio and I'm like, "oh, this sounds pretty good. Don't you think this is interesting?" Driver tuts: "this is Kashmir". And because he could see I thought that was the name of the band -- he said, "Led Zeppelin."
It was an old instinct that made me put my fingers up to my ears but I listened.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Went on a bit long.
So look. I can't tell you anything about Tom Petty.
He wore flares. He went on tour with Bob Dylan at some point. You might like him.
It wasn't punk all day on the radio because that was all there was.
There was still disco and a bit of left over glitter and tartan from the six formers who went before.
When we went to the gigs, we went for the punk band and heaven forbid if there was a band on the same bill who wore flares and played guitar solos.
You would see the punks down the front walking back and forth with their fingers on their ears saying, "you're shit".
I didn't listen to anyone who wore flares. In fact, it wasn't til 1988 when I was in a car on my way to Cleveland Ohio (don't ask) and some catchy little tune comes on the radio and I'm like, "oh, this sounds pretty good. Don't you think this is interesting?" Driver tuts: "this is Kashmir". And because he could see I thought that was the name of the band -- he said, "Led Zeppelin."
It was an old instinct that made me put my fingers up to my ears but I listened.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Went on a bit long.
So look. I can't tell you anything about Tom Petty.
He wore flares. He went on tour with Bob Dylan at some point. You might like him.
Summer 1978 - Bowie at Earl's Court (Jon Savage review)
*see below
It was a warm night. I remember the second the lights went out, John went hurdling over the chairs and magically Chris and I did the same and in some amazing way, we came to land in the front row. The adrenelin made me feel I was in the Olympics or something. It felt effortless.
It was strange that the previous Bowie concert we'd been too was rows and rows of people imitating Bowie wearing glittery stuff. We were there in our punk kit. I remember I was in my favourite pink mohair. The opening was a rush. I still love that song Heroes. I had a funny friend who must have taken three buses to post the vinyl single through my letter box when i was at work one day. I could do without the Brecht tho. And I wouldn't dare tell you that at the time.
* last line reads: Nothing changes. Or does it? "Got to keep searching and searching and what will I believe in?" Whatever that will be, there's a feeling that it won't include many more live performances, though certain hints of limits reached and masks exhausted. Quo vadis, David Jones?
Jon Savage went on to write a "punk" book called "England's Dreaming." Not my favourite book, but you might like it.
July 1978 - WIRE
You had to see Wire. They were the intelligent, art band. When I saw them first, they stood in a line and played one song after the next with few introductions in between each song. You paid attention. The band members hardly moved about at all. No pogo-ing. Which was unusual then. And because they stood still, so did the audience. We listened carefully. Their lyrics were heady and had clever subtle political overtones "I am the fly in the ointment" or maybe they were uncomfortable with love. Their songs squiggled all over your mind. It was said that the lead singer studied insects, or collected insects, I forget which but after I heard that rumour, their music would buzz inside me. Buzz around me.
The second time I saw Wire I was able to watch the crowd. The lights were low. The most handsome boys came to watch Wire.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Ron Ashton RIP
"Ron Asheton, the influential guitarist for legendary punk band the Stooges, was found dead early this morning at his home in Ann Arbor, police said."
Ron Asheton is quoted in the article as saying:
“When I was a young guy coming up, going to the Grande Ballroom every weekend, I got to see my heroes play. Jeff Beck, the Who, everyone. I didn't want to be a fanboy, but I'd stand there and wait — 'I just want to say hi, this was great.' I saw them walk by me with blank stares like they were zombies. I said to myself, you know, if I ever make it, I've got at least one minute for everybody who wants to say something. So I talk to people, and that's what's exciting now."
That was so true of the spirt of punk rock. The bands all talked to you.
Here's the rest of the article:
Ann Arbor Police Sgt. Brad Hill said the department received a call around midnight with a request to check on Asheton, 60, because the unidentified caller said he had not heard from the guitarist in a few days. Police went to his home and found him deceased.
The death is still under investigation, but foul play is not suspected, Hill said.
The Stooges was founded in 1967 in Ann Arbor by Iggy Pop, Asheton and Ron Asheton’s brother, Scott. It is among the most important rock groups to have emerged from the Detroit area, a place that’s seen more than its share. The band was never a commercial success in its late 1960s and early ‘70s heyday, but the Stooges’ raw guttural sound helped create the template for punk rock, and later became hugely influential in the alternative-rock revolution of the late 1980s and early ‘90s.
Asheton was not an incredibly gifted player technically, but the dirgy, guttural sounds he created on early Stooges classics like “I Wanna Be Your Dog” were cited by guitarists as varied as Kurt Cobain, Thurston Moore and Jack White — who once called the Stooges’ 1969 effort “Fun House” the greatest rock album of all time. In a 2003 list by Rolling Stone magazine, the publication named Asheton the 29th-greatest rock guitarist of all time.
He made the “Stooges' music reek like a puddle of week-old biker sweat. He favored black leather and German iron crosses onstage, and he never let not really knowing how to play get in the way of a big, ugly feedback solo,” the magazine said.
Though the band broke up in the 1970s among a swirl of infighting and drugs, its influence among later generations of rockers helped spurn a series of reunion shows in 2003 — including a legendary August gig at DTE Energy Music Theatre. A near fanatical reception to the reformation spawned a new album, “The Weirdness,” and a second tour in 2007.
The Stooges were among the nominees for this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremony, with the inductees expected to be announced this month.
In a 2003 interview with the Free Press, Asheton said the Stooges’ reunion was very important to him, and that he got great satisfaction from the recognition the band received — even if it was a long time coming.
“When I was a young guy coming up, going to the Grande Ballroom every weekend, I got to see my heroes play. Jeff Beck, the Who, everyone. I didn't want to be a fanboy, but I'd stand there and wait — 'I just want to say hi, this was great.' I saw them walk by me with blank stares like they were zombies. I said to myself, you know, if I ever make it, I've got at least one minute for everybody who wants to say something. So I talk to people, and that's what's exciting now."
Von Bondies guitarist Jason Stollsteimer, 30, is among a younger generation of rock musicians who soaked up Asheton's influence. Asheton's playing was the embodiment of the Michigan rock sound, he said.
"To me, he was the epitome of raw punk," said Stollsteimer. "He wasn't flashy or over the top. It was raw. The riffs he wrote stood the test of time."
Stollsteimer's band opened for the Stooges at their 2003 reunion show at DTE Energy Music Theatre. It was a triumphant comeback that saw the Stooges treated with a level of attention and respect they'd never previously enjoyed.
http://www.freep.com/article/20090106/ENT04/90106024
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