r&b – Alternative Press Magazine https://www.altpress.com Rock On! Wed, 07 Jun 2023 10:51:08 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.5.2 https://www.altpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/24/attachment-alt-favi-32x32.png?t=1697612868 r&b – Alternative Press Magazine https://www.altpress.com 32 32 A history of horror punk, from the Damned and Misfits to Alkaline Trio https://www.altpress.com/best-horror-punk-bands-misfits-alkaline-trio/ Mon, 03 Jan 2022 22:30:56 +0000 https://www.altpress.com/best-horror-punk-bands-misfits-alkaline-trio/ I Put A Spell On You: Horror-punk roots

Horror punk? Well, the cheapest, tackiest horror films have always been part of the cultural detritus that’s informed the punk aesthetic. Think of Ramones’ ode to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, “Chain Saw.” Remember the bloody, dripping creature feature font adorning Iggy And The StoogesRaw Power album. Punk was partially born in the blue cathode ray light of ‘70s late-night monster movie screenings on UHF television.

But rock ‘n’ roll in general has always had a connection with horror. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, an operatically trained R&B singer, had a huge 1956 hit with the voodoo-drenched “I Put A Spell On You.” His howling performance featured alongside a stage act that saw him leap out of a coffin with a bone in his nose, shaking a skull-topped walking stick at audiences. That and his supposedly “cannibalistic” performance on the record got “Spell” banned by most radio stations. This didn’t prevent it from selling over a million copies.

Hawkins had an English imitator in the early ‘60s, Screaming Lord Sutch, adopting an almost identical act while growing hair longer than the Beatles and bellowing such grisly fare as “Jack The Ripper.” This led to a “career” in English politics, where he’d run unsuccessfully in every parliamentary election from 1963 to 1997, as the standing candidate for the “Official Monster Raving Loony Party.”

Read more: 10 best ’70s London punk bands, from Siouxsie And The Banshees to Sex Pistols

Then there’s the teen death ballad trend in the ‘50s and early ‘60s — Pat Boone’s “Moody River,” Mark Dinning’s “Teen Angel,” rockabilly moaner Jody Reynolds’ masterful, throbbing “Endless Sleep,” ace girl group the Shangri-Las’ biker heartbreak opera “Leader Of The Pack” and frat rockers J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers“The Last Kiss” (later covered by Pearl Jam). It got to where it felt like every other record of the time was trying to kill off its target audience. Best of all was Jimmy Cross’ ghastly parody “I Want My Baby Back,” which ended with the singer digging up his girlfriend’s grave and finishing the song from inside the coffin.

The early ‘70s were filled with plenty of early heavymetal bands who seemingly came straight from an abattoir, such as Bloodrock and the almighty Black Sabbath. But perhaps rock ‘n’ roll saw the most powerful manifestation of its yen for horror with Alice Cooper. Most glam rock scarcely had a mainstream presence until well past its moment.

The former Vincent Furnier and the original band named for the character he portrayed onstage goosed up their gender-bending hard rock with a B-movie horror aesthetic. Which meant beheading Coop onstage with a guillotine, but not before he delivered the necrophiliac “I Love The Dead,” or the utterly frightening “Ballad Of Dwight Fry,” named for a ‘30s character actor and set in an insane asylum. Early ‘70s American youth couldn’t take cross-dressing or ambiguous sexuality, but they sure loved a rockin’ villain ripped straight from a Lucio Fulci film. Was this why the New York Dolls asked their first album’s purchasers the musical question, “Do you think that you could make it with Frankenstein?”

Read more: Catherine McGann recalls photographing Harlem drag balls, Eminem and Flea

Just prior to punk’s dawn, Roky Erickson of Texas psychedelic explorers the 13th Floor Elevators launched a remarkable solo career. His early ’80s album The Evil One, backed by a band called the Aliens, was full of bloodthirsty rock whose lyrics were mostly wholesale chunks of B-horror movie dialogue. The other trademarks, besides Erickson’s unearthly scream, were utterly corrosive guitar work and Bill Miller’s fuzz-drenched electric autoharp. Erickson was easily a bridge from ‘60s counterculture to what was next.

“Too Much Horror Business”: Horror punk’s advent

Obviously, punk had many precedents leading to a fright-film-themed subgenre. So, of course the London scene saw harbingers of Hammer Films-style doom-rock such as the Damned. Guitarist Brian James nailed their colors to their mast with the utterly funereal, psychedelic-tinged “Feel The Pain” on their first album. Singer Dave Vanian cut a distinctly Bela Lugosi-like figure onstage in his white face, panda eye makeup and slicked-back black hair. Then there’s the fact that his stage name’s last part featured a silent “Transyl-.” The Damned later indulged a full-on horror jones in such ghoulish rockers as “Plan 9 Channel 7” and “Dead Beat Dance.”

Meanwhile, in Lodi, New Jersey, a young man named Glenn Anzalone was marinating in the same stew of bloody pre-code EC Comics, trashy late-night horror films and old rock ‘n’ roll that sired Erickson. He gave it full-bloom after he changed his name to Glenn Danzig and formed a band that somehow married the Ramones to a low-budget version of KISS-style showmanship called the Misfits. With their frightful mascot derived from the ‘40s film serial The Crimson Ghost, they set Danzig’s howl to roaring power chords on two-minute gore bombs such as “Horror Business” and “Teenagers From Mars.” It was one of the most powerful sounds and images of the punk era.

Read more: Artists to watch in 2022: Suggestions from chloe moriondo, DE’WAYNE and more

Then there’s early punk’s ultimate cool-rockin’ ghouls, the Cramps. As singer Lux Interior and partner/guitarist Poison Ivy set about creating a more rockabilly– and ‘60s garage-based update of the classic New York Dolls blueprint, the vocalist drew upon Cleveland’s weekly televised horror fests hosted by a subversive character named Ghoulardi. As a result, Cramps albums featured regular doses of grisly raunch ‘n’ roll such as “Human Fly” and “I Was A Teenage Werewolf.” Come the mid-’80s, their lyrical concerns turned toward a more fetish-friendly ‘50s underground sexuality. But the lessons Interior learned from such fine, Ghoulardi-hosted cinematic fare as Attack Of The Crab Monsters were never far behind.

Come the hardcore era, a spooky punk offshoot called death-rock developed in the Los Angeles area. It contained some elements of the ‘77 punk sound, while sharing similarities with the goth culture flowering in the U.K. It also contained some lashings of the goriest early heavy metal. 45 Grave, centered around the deadly charisma of singer Dinah Cancer, and Christian Death were the best of the bunch. Long Beach bruisers T.S.O.L. even took a break from the politically charged hardcore of their first EP with their debut album, Dance With Me. It featured such cheerily morbid slashers as “Code Blue.”

“Undead, Undead, Undead”: Horror punk in the ‘80s U.K.

The most obvious horror-themed offshoot of Britpunk come the ‘80s had to be goth. The mother and fathers of the entire scene, Siouxsie And The Banshees, began in the original punk scene itself, evolving from the Bromley Contingent, the Sex Pistols’ first followers. The Cure also had punk beginnings, Robert Smith even deputizing as a Banshees guitarist after John McKay’s exit. The Damned’s Captain Sensible told Trouser Press magazine that he thought of Bauhaus as a punk band. Certainly, their slash-and-burn glam rock with dark lyrics qualified at least as punk-adjacent. But OG — Original Goth — they certainly were. Their first single, 1979’s “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” may have even been goth’s opening shot.

“Slash-and-burn glam rock with dark lyrics” could also handily describe the bands centered around London’s Batcave club from 1982 to 1985. It certainly fit Specimen — the Batcave’s flagship band, founded by club founder Olli Wisdom — like a tight mesh T-shirt. They frequently sounded like T. Rex live inside a mortuary. The act who rose highest and long-outlived the club? Alien Sex Fiend, still centered around Nik Fiend and Mrs. Fiend, the electro-shock Lux and Ivy.

Read more: Badflower’s Josh Katz, Ashnikko, K.Flay and more give 2022 music recommendations

Equally, they continue to sonically resemble a particularly grisly collision between the Sex Pistols, the Cramps and a synthesizer with one functioning memory bank. Yes, this is a good thing. Separately, Sisters Of Mercy operated as a spooky, metallic version of Joy Division, with Andrew Eldritch’s Jim Morrison-esque baritone riding bone-crunching guitars and a migraine-throb drum machine. At one time or another, Eldritch’s fellow Sisters included such punk luminaries as bassists Tony James (Generation X, Sigue Sigue Sputnik) and Patricia Morrison (the Bags, the Gun Club, the Damned).

Calling All Skeletons: Horror-punk in the ‘90s to the present

The decade that gave rise to grunge, alt-rock and pop punk saw most of the horror action in its rock arise from the industrial scene. Later in the decade, a number of punk acts would carry the tattered, bloody horror-punk flag into the next century, even if they didn’t initially emerge from that particular coffin. Chicago’s Alkaline Trio began as a typical pop-punk outfit in 1996. Over time, Matt Skiba increasingly indulged the influence not only of the Damned and Misfits, but Bauhaus, the Cure and Sisters Of Mercy. Which meant they were the most morbid of pop-punk bands by the time they entered their hit-making years in the early ‘00s. 

AFI began much earlier, in that “Smells Like Teen Spirit” year of 1991. They were pretty much a straight-up hardcore act, until singer Davey Havok and guitarist-from-1998-on Jade Puget increasingly indulged their horror side. Again, they were fully spooky by the time they started scoring hit records. Considering the Cramps were the largest inspirations on the psychobilly scene, it’s not surprising such bass-slapping ghouls as Tiger Army. My Chemical Romance certainly had their dose of creature-feature aesthetics. Murder Dolls, a collaboration between Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13 frontman Wednesday 13 and Slipknot’s Joey Jordison, served as a bridge between the Misfits and Mötley Crüe’s femur-splintering glam-metal. 13’s solo career continues in much the same vein, his most recent release being an EP titled Necrophaze – Antidote, which includes an ultra-heavy remake of INXS“Devil Inside.”

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10 best ’70s London punk bands, from Siouxsie And The Banshees to Sex Pistols https://www.altpress.com/best-70s-london-punk-bands/ Tue, 21 Dec 2021 23:00:31 +0000 As long as there’s been a punk scene, its denizens have argued as to which city invented it — New York or London? Truth be told, it was neither because history’s first proper punk band was the Stooges from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Which would make Detroit punk’s proper birthplace. But if much of the sound and attitude of punk came from the distorted guitar R&B of mid-’60s bands from The Big Smoke, such as the Kinks and the Who? Then maybe London can stake a proper claim after all.

Truth be told, London’s ‘70s punks owed much to some local sources from the early ‘70s as to the Stooges or New York Dolls. We’ve established in our previous punk genealogical excavations that glam rock is embedded deep in its DNA. Glam’s twin titans David Bowie and Marc Bolan of T. Rex were both London boys. Then there are the anarchist rock ‘n’ roll bands — essentially hardened, militant hippies — who all seemed to live in the Ladbroke Grove neighborhood. Those high-energy, R&B-based, guitar-driven records by the Pink Fairies or Third World War are as punk as “God Save The Queen.” Then there’s the tale of the Hollywood Brats, who seemed to shop in the same thrift store women’s departments and guitar and record shops as the Dolls. Truth be told, both bands formed and arrived at similar conclusions seemingly within minutes of one another, an ocean away from one another. 

Read more: 10 glam-rock artists from the 1970s who heralded the coming age of punk

Then there’s the unrecorded, never-emergent-from-the-garage London SS. They wanted to blatantly be England’s answer to the Dolls, with some Stooges and MC5 mixed in. The brainchild of the pre-Clash Mick Jones and the pre-Generation X Tony James, they spent all of 1975 writing songs and auditioning a who’s who of early English punk responding to their music press classified ads. We’re talking half of the future Damned and the future Clash both. They never found the magical chemistry rock ‘n’ roll bands require, unfortunately. Hence, a pair of teenage kleptomaniacs, a Saturday shop assistant at Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood’s deviant haberdashery Sex and an angry teenager with green hair and teeth and a handmade “I Hate Pink Floyd” shirt arrived at similar ideas. They made it out of the rehearsal room.

Sex Pistols

From the moment they gatecrashed their first gigs at London art colleges in late 1975, lying that they were the opening act, to their 1978 implosion in San Francisco following the biggest gig of their career, the Sex Pistols created a rupture in rock. They played on stolen equipment, frontman Johnny Rotten refused to entertain (“Tell us,  what’s it like to have bad taste?”), and they wrote songs about destroying the social order. They burned through three major-label deals in six months’ time, and got banned from the airwaves, the charts and nearly every venue in England. They were the most exciting rock ‘n’ roll band in years.

The Clash

“And we don’t care!” the Pistols screamed on “Pretty Vacant.” The Clash cared deeply. The Pistols acted as a wrecking machine, then walked away, not one shit given. Ex-London SS guitarist Jones, singer Joe Strummer, bassist Paul Simonon and drummer Topper Headon walked in behind them, looked around at the wreckage left behind and planned what to build atop the ruins. This enabled the Clash to outlast the Pistols, create more than one album and expand upon the original slash-and-burn remit with lashings of reggae, rockabilly, hiphop and other styles. Fused with their deep political consciousness, it’s easy to see the Clash as punk’s most important band.

The Damned

The Damned are traditionally seen as the Number Three London Punk Band. But they beat the Pistols and Clash and everyone else at everything: First punk single (“New Rose”), first punk album (Damned Damned Damned) and first to tour the States. They were also the first to break up, first to reform just six months later and still exist to this day. And they were a supernaturally rowdy rock ‘n’ roll band with exceptional songwriting gifts. Original drummer Rat Scabies was one of ’70s punk’s most skilled drummers, found by guitarist Brian James at a London SS audition. Singer Dave Vanian was a cool rockin’ ghoul, while bassist (and later guitarist) Captain Sensible was a lunatic as likely to be in a tutu or nurse’s uniform as not. Over time, the Damned proved invaluable in stretching punk’s boundaries with psychedelic and progressiverock touches, and key in creating goth.

Siouxsie And The Banshees

They began as a joke, created out of original Pistols followers the Bromley Contingent when McLaren needed bands to round out the two-night 100 Club Punk Festival in September 1976. But singer Siouxsie Sioux and bassist Steve Severin so enjoyed improvising noisescapes with future Adam And The Ants guitarist Marco Pirroni and a pre-Pistols Sid Vicious on drums, they formed a more permanent Siouxsie And The Banshees lineup. Their dark, sinister Velvet Underground-ish vibe, combined with Kenny Morris’ cymbal-less drumming, immediately set them apart. As they grew more pop, they joined the Damned in helping usher in goth culture, mostly due to Siouxsie’s funereal charisma.

Generation X

Bromley Contingent member Billy Idol met London SS’s James when both served in Chelsea’s original lineup. Both tired of singer Gene October’s high-handedness, they split off with drummer John Towe, moving Idol from guitar to vocals when they found Bob “Derwood” Andrews in a heavy-metal band. Once Keith Moon-esque Mark Laff replaced Towe and they signed with Chrysalis Records, Generation X set about revving glam basics to Ramones-oid specs. They roundly received sneers for the members’ teen pinup looks, especially Idol’s, as they racked up such U.K. hits as “Ready Steady Go” and “Your Generation.” Idol, of course, became a global solo superstar in the ‘80s, while James moved on to synth-punk heroes Sigue Sigue Sputnik.

Wire

Much of the first generation of London punk bands, including the Pistols’ Glen Matlock and the Clash’s Simonon, matriculated at various art colleges. Wire may’ve been the first art school band to sound like they’d been to art school. They played at Ramones-ian velocity on cheap equipment, but their material, such as “12XU” and “Mr. Suit,” featured these Dada-ist lyrics. And when the words ran out, the song ended — cold. This resulted in these one-minute-or-less songs that became quite influential on the development of hardcore, especially on more experimentalist bands such as Minutemen. Wire eventually got more electronic, creating some catchy-if-unsettling tunes such as “I Am The Fly.”

The Slits

Meet history’s first riot grrrls. The initial hype on punk rock was that no talent or skill was required to play it. The four teenage women comprising the Slits took that at face value, essentially learning their instruments and how to write songs on the job. They were irreverent in all aspects of their lives, be it toward the conventions of society or song structure. This resulted in this delightfully ramshackle tribal rock, mostly punk by dint of attitude and the sheer gusto with which singer Ari Up, drummer Palmolive, guitarist Viv Albertine and bassist Tessa Pollitt attacked it. As they developed actual chops, they grew into an edgy reggae outfit, best showcased on debut album Cut

X-Ray Spex

Poly Styrene had been Mari Elliott, a mixed-race teen with braces who had been following the hippie trail with a failed pop-reggae single called “Silly Billy” to her name. A chance exposure to the Sex Pistols at a venue on a pier changed her life. X-Ray Spex formed from respondents to her music paper classified ad seeking “young punx who want to stick it together.” The band set Styrene’s mocking critique of an artificial society to a rough, post-Pistols sound, differentiated by Lora Logic’s piercing saxophone solos. No one who’s heard the extraordinary debut single “Oh Bondage! Up Yours!” has soon forgotten it.

Sham 69

Sham 69, fronted by the hyper-earnest Jimmy Pursey, heralded the arrival of punk’s second wave. They stripped the basic sound down to the Sex Pistols’ roaring guitar chords set to the Ramones’ freight-train rhythms, and a streetwise singer barking working-class concerns. They unfortunately gained the devotion of the newest generation of racist skinheads, who set about harassing the band and violently disrupting their gigs when Pursey vehemently disavowed them. Sham 69 nevertheless managed to create some of the most passionate youth anthems of ‘70s punk before they were done, including such stompers as “Borstal Breakout” and “If The Kids Are United.”

UK Subs

Led through various lineups by irrepressible lead growler Charlie Harper, UK Subs outlived the Sex Pistols, the Clash and virtually every first-wave London punk outfit, save for the Damned and 999. They kept to a basic meat-and-potatoes sound that could be the punk equivalent of AC/DC: chunky guitars, a slamming rhythm section and Harper’s Cockney roar celebrating life on the streets among the down-and-out. The first four of the 26 alphabetically titled albums they released yielded some British hits that got the Subs on Top Of The Pops — crunching ravers such as “Stranglehold,” “Teenage” and “Party In Paris.” UK Subs are a wonderfully consistent example to the world of punk rock’s potency. 

See also: 999, the Vibrators, the Boys, Chelsea, Eater, Adam And The Ants, Cockney Rejects

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20 songs that transformed punk, from “Raw Power” to “Rebel Girl” https://www.altpress.com/beginners-guide-to-punk-rock-green-day-ramones-bad-brains/ Tue, 07 Dec 2021 21:15:47 +0000 There are a lot of people out there who know what punk rock is but have no idea how to explain it to a novice or an outsider. It would seem simple enough to define it as “three-chord teenage rebel music,” but what about all those songs that have four or more chords? Or all the practitioners who are over 50 years old, never mind over 20? Then there’s the matter of how few are actually in their teens…

Yes, there are chainsaw guitars, but what about those tunes that might have some jangly elements? Or such guitarless, synth-heavy punk outfits as the Screamers? You can always speak of how fast it is, but are we talking speedy like the Ramones? Or ripping 275 BPM a la hardcore? You can discuss how musicianship is not central to the music, but how do you explain virtuosos such as New York Dolls and Heartbreakers drummer Jerry Nolan? Or Rancid bassist Matt Freeman, whose chops could put the fear of God into any jazz player? You can speak of the inherent anger and nihilism, but what of the joyous pop of the Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks”?

Read more: 11 bands and genres that prove Black Flag are a continued influence

Perhaps any attempt to explain punk rock is akin to the remarks of Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, who — when asked to define what is/isn’t deemed obscene — offered that he didn’t know what it was, “[b]ut I know it when I see it.” It’s ultimately down to a fiercely independent spirit and a sense of outsiderness. But it can take on many forms from there. 

These 20 songs are selected to play to your friend who wants to know what punk is, as a starting point. It’s not meant to be complete. Instead, think of it as some good examples for the uninitiated.

The Saints – “(I’m) Stranded”

Many to this day would insist Australian firebrands the Saints’ 1976 debut single is The Ultimate Punk Record. Singer Chris Bailey, guitarist Ed Kuepper, bassist Kym Bradshaw and drummer Ivor Hay developed this speedy, angry racket unaware of the Ramones. But there’s the manic eighth-note drums, the sawtoothed guitar and Bailey’s laconic snarl expressing pure disaffection: “Livin’ in a world insane/They cut out some heart and some brain/Been filling it up with dirt/Yeah baby, dunno how it hurts/To be stranded on your own/Stranded far from home.” If one record defines punk rock, it’s “(I’m) Stranded.”

Iggy And The Stooges – “Raw Power”

No one will ever agree who was the first punk band. The Stooges, fronted by fearless blowtorch exhibitionist Iggy Pop, could certainly claim the trophy (though the next two bands had a large part in the music’s development). As Iggy And The Stooges, with whiplash guitarist James Williamson moving Ron Asheton to bass, they made music that perfected punk rock three years early. “Everybody always tryin’ to tell me what to do,” Pop snarls over Williamson’s rampaging Gibson. “Don’t you try, don’t you try to tell me what to do.” Then he dived face-first into the third row.

MC5 – “Looking At You”

Before the Stooges came the MC5. Formed in 1964, they represented ‘60s garage impulses mutating into something louder. They simultaneously discovered feedback-drenched English blast-rock a la the Who and the Yardbirds and the melodically and rhythmically radical free jazz of Pharoah Sanders and Sun Ra. It created a driving sound as explosive as anything emanating from the neighborhood Ford automobile factory. This re-recording of 1968’s A-Square 45’s A-side disappointed those preferring the original’s looser feel. But this straight-ahead rendition from second LP Back In The USA earns pride of place for directly linking Detroit 1969 to early Ramones in feel.

New York Dolls – “Vietnamese Baby”

The shorthand on American glam renegades the New York Dolls: They invented the sound of punk rock and the look of the Sunset Strip in the ‘80s. But Mötley Crüe hardly possessed Johnny Thunders’ slashing Gibson abuse or singer David Johansen’s gobs of attitude. “Vietnamese Baby,” alongside Iggy And The Stooges’ “Search And Destroy,” is likely the roots of punk’s obsession with insurrectionist politics, likening the unabating conflict in Southeast Asia to a sour love affair: “Catch me your slaves, shot at/Every rifle on the way and I gotta/Show you more mustard gas than any girl ever seen…”

Ramones – “Cretin Hop”

The pride of Forest Hills, Queens, the Ramones are the point where everything preceding punk coalesces and distills into a cohesive beast. They are what most point to as The Prototype Punk Band: loud, fast, aggressive, simple, irreverent, full of attitude. Oh, and  black leather jackets. Other Ramones tunes such as “Blitzkrieg Bop” may be more recognizable. But Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee and Tommy’s punk credentials are no more out on the table than on this ‘50s dance song parody opening the superb Rocket To Russia album. Johnny’s guitar is especially in-your-face here.

The Heartbreakers – “Chinese Rocks”

In 1975, Dee Dee Ramone teamed up with Richard Hell, then in New York Dolls-offshoot the Heartbreakers, determined to write a better ode to drug misuse than Lou Reed’s Velvet Underground-era dirge “Heroin.” The rocker they crafted made smack addiction sound as cheery as doing the Twist, pinned to a big, greasy R&B guitar riff. The Heartbreakers, centered around the Dolls’ junkie contingent of Thunders and drummer Jerry Nolan, took “Chinese Rocks” after the Ramones rejected its “negativity.” The song practically screamed, sardonically, “Aren’t we living such lovely lives?” Which helped establish punk’s reputation for irony and sarcasm. 

Dead Boys – “Sonic Reducer”

Punk was hardly exclusive to New York or England. By 1975, most cities across the globe had their own local Stooges/Dolls-style band, playing stripped-down/sped-up/aggressive ‘70s rock. Cleveland had the Dead Boys, led by Iggy-gone-slapstick vocalist Stiv Bators and metallic whiz-bang guitarist Cheetah Chrome. “Sonic Reducer,” from Chrome’s protopunk outfit Rocket From The Tombs, is every bit as potent a punk statement of intent as “Blitzkrieg Bop”: “I don’t need anyone/Don’t need no mom and dad,” Bators screams over Chrome’s four-chord firestorm. “Don’t need no pretty face/Don’t need no human race.” Nihilism was never so danceable.

Sex Pistols – “Pretty Vacant”

Sex Pistols bassist Glen Matlock and lead snarler Johnny Rotten intended “Pretty Vacant” to poke fun of manager Malcolm McLaren’s obsession with Richard Hell. “Blank Generation,” anyone? “Don’t ask us to attend/’Cause we’re not all there,” Rotten sneers over a guitar hook Matlock claims was borrowed from Swedish pop perfectionists ABBA’s “SOS.” “Oh don’t pretend ’cause I don’t care/I don’t believe illusions ’cause too much is real/So stop your cheap comment/’Cause we know what we feel.” No single Sex Pistols tune can’t ignite a roomful of sweaty, pogoing punks like this one.

The Damned – “New Rose”

“Is she really going out with him?” wonders the Damned’s cool-rockin’ vampire Dave Vanian, prior to Rat Scabies igniting a monstrous Gene Krupa-esque drumbeat. Punk was rock ‘n’ roll’s supposed destruction. Yet touches such as Vanian’s adlib — half-inched from the Shangri-Las“Leader Of The Pack” — proved punk musicians were rock fans in spite of themselves. The Damned were more honest about it than most. England’s first punk single was gloriously rock ‘n’ roll. Leader Brian James created not only a deathless rock guitar riff in “New Rose” but a joyous celebration of punk’s emergence disguised as a love song. 

The Clash – “Complete Control”

The ultimate punk move ever? The Sex Pistols’ crosstown rivals the Clash writing a song detailing every way their major label violated their contract…then having the company release it as a single. “They said we’d be artistically free/When we signed that bit of paper,” Joe Strummer barked over Mick Jones’ rampaging guitar figure. “They meant, ‘Let’s make lots of money/And worry about it later!’” Reggae legend Lee “Scratch” Perry added a smoky density to the production, as Strummer wails against his oppressors: “I don’t trust you/So why should you trust me?”

Buzzcocks – “Time’s Up”

After initial singer Howard Devoto left Buzzcocks, Pete Shelley redesigned them into an outlet for his gender-nonspecific pop songs, filled with his wounded romanticism. “Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?),” anyone? But Shelley and Devoto’s Buzzcocks Mk. 1 songs were arguably more definitively punk. “Time’s Up,” from England’s first independently released punk record Spiral Scratch, particularly sounds like Rotten growling several existentialist verses: “And I’ll be standing in the standing room/And I’ll be smoking in the smoking room/And now I’m dying in the living room/I’m gonna forget what I came for here real soon.”

Bad Brains – “Banned In D.C.”

Here’s where hardcore enters the punk timeline. Orange County’s the Middle Class and Motörhead got there first. But D.C.’s Bad Brains — singer H.R., guitarist Dr. Know, bassist Darryl Jenifer and drummer Earl Hudson — are where hardcore’s sound, speed and ethos all coalesced and got a name. Their intensity — sonically, spiritually, mentally — whipped up audiences to a furious degree. It scared club owners, leading to Bad Brains’ bookings drying up. Undaunted, they played in NYC, boiling blood up there. The band responded with this tune: “Ooh, ooh you can’t afford/To close your doors/So soon no more.”

Black Flag – “Rise Above”

Black Flag became the greatest hardcore band ever without breaking past Ramones speed — they were midtempo, compared to Bad Brains. Rather, they were “hardcore” in the Oxford Dictionary sense: “The most active, committed or strict members of a group or movement” or “highly committed in one’s support for or dedication to something.” That sonic/philosophical intensity scared the Los Angeles Police Department, who battled with the band and their fans constantly. Hence guitarist Greg Ginn writing anthems of defiance as ferocious as “Rise Above”: “We are tired of your abuse/Try to stop us/It’s no use!”

Circle Jerks – “Wild In The Streets”

Originally recorded by singer-songwriter Garland Jeffreys in 1973, “Wild In The Streets” was a tough, nasty R&B rocker fairly similar to some of his friend Lou Reed’s work, or that of rising New Jersey boy Bruce Springsteen. Brought eight years later by former Black Flag singer Keith Morris to his new hardcore band Circle Jerks, “Wild In The Streets” became a rampaging punk anthem. The band poured so much piled-up energy and desperation into Jeffreys’ song, it was unrecognizable.

Minor Threat – “Filler”

D.C. hardcore became the most ferocious anywhere. It was partially due to Bad Brains’ abiding influence, minus their reggae side. Which also meant harDCore bands could play their instruments exceptionally well, if not with Bad Brains’ insane funk– and jazz-derived chops. There was also a prevalent moral authority in the scene, stemming from Minor Threat’s rapid ascendance to D.C.’s top dogs. Singer Ian MacKaye’s straightedge philosophy provided an example of sobriety and clear-thinking as an insurrectionist act. “Filler” decried the early ‘80s rise of the religious right: “You call it religion/You’re full of shit!”

The Lazy Cowgirls – “Lose’n Your Mind”

By the mid-’80s, hardcore became formulaic and rote. It had lost its excitement and the shock of the new, as scores of bands barely able to play their instruments played increasingly faster anti-Reagan rants nowhere near as clever as Dead Kennedys. Some of us longed for the old jacked-up rock ‘n’ roll of punk’s first wave, or its predecessors. The Lazy Cowgirls moved to Los Angeles from Vincennes, Indiana, to kick punk’s rotting corpse awake, installing the Ramones’ drivetrain inside a chassis built from choice parts nicked from the Dolls and Stooges. “Lose’n Your Mind” is definitive Lazy Cowgirls.

Mudhoney – “Touch Me I’m Sick”

Grunge was another answer to hardcore stasis. Instead of getting speedier until the music’s a blur, why not slow down? Why not pile on so much fuzz and distortion, the music becomes the consistency of mud? Mudhoney issued grunge’s definitive opening volley in “Touch Me I’m Sick,” their debut single and one of Sub Pop Records’ flagship releases. Dan Peters beat nine shades of tar out of his drum kit, as Steve Turner and Mark Arm back the latter’s yowling verse about the AIDS crisis: “I won’t live long/And I’m full of rot/Gonna give you, girl/Everything I got.”

Bikini Kill – “Rebel Girl”

Riot grrrl was the ultimate rebuke to hardcore, which got increasingly macho. The football players who may have previously beaten up punks shaved their heads, donned Black Flag T-shirts and turned the mosh pit into a bloodbath. Much retrograde sexism and homophobia came in with these meatheads, chasing away many of the women and LGBTQIA+ community initially involved in early punk. Riot grrrl reversed this trend, bringing women back to punk’s creative and political heart. Bikini Kill, led by the charismatic Kathleen Hanna, were the best of the bunch. “Rebel Girl,” featuring Joan Jett on guitar, was their most potent song.

Green Day – “American Idiot”

Grunge, of course, decimated mainstream music and culture with Nirvana’s massive commercial success. Suddenly, punk disaffection was everywhere. When grunge’s downbeat aesthetic grew too wearying, Green Day’s shiny, high-energy old-school punk a la Ramones or Generation X became the new sound. Ten years later, with George W. Bush war-drumming for a new conservatism, Green Day injected Clash-like leftist politics into the conversation. “American Idiot” became a radio and MTV monster while addressing some of the same things riot grrrl decried: “I’m not a part of a redneck agenda/Now everybody do the propaganda/And sing along to the age of paranoia.”

The White Stripes – “Let’s Shake Hands”

Just prior to “American Idiot,” the White Stripes brought basic ‘60s garage bashing back to the pop charts. Jack White and former wife Meg White, being from Detroit, naturally had the MC5 and the Stooges in their blood. But there was also plenty of Ramones in there, beneath the layers of red-and-white fuzz. It was as obvious in their debut single “Let’s Shake Hands” as on their 2002 breakthrough hit “Fell In Love With A Girl.” But “Hands” was a classic opening shot, clearly displaying every element that defined the White Stripes over time. It was classic punk rock, too.

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Snail Mail defied fears of the sophomore slump to make ‘Valentine’ https://www.altpress.com/snail-mail-interview-valentine/ Mon, 06 Dec 2021 21:15:22 +0000 When it was time to start work on the second Snail Mail album, Lindsey Jordan only had a couple of songs ready. “If I don’t actually have anything to write about, I’m not gonna write anything. I don’t want to. I don’t want to waste my time — I don’t want to waste anybody else’s time,” she says.

Speaking on Zoom from a London hotel room she’s just checked into while on a promotional run for her sophomore record, Valentine, it’s clear that in the time since, she found plenty to write about.

“Living life after that, in a normal not-music way, dealing with love and loss and heartbreak and real-life stuff really informed the process,” she says. “All of a sudden, I wanted to write rather than felt like it was something that I had to do. And that’s important to me.”

Read more: Ethel Cain describes her music as a dream-pop worship service

Preferring to write about things as she experiences them, “in real time,” to capture a sense of emotional immediacy, Jordan records demos soon after writing the songs.

“I tend to write right as things are happening to try [to] really feel it as intensely as possible,” she explains. As such, Valentine is rife with intense, difficult emotions. “That was a lot of the reason that I was writing. I was really hurting in a lot of ways,” she says.

Valentine takes the listener through loss (“Wish it’d been you the other night/Should have been you, but it’s all right” on “c. et al.”), jealousy (“When did you start seeing her?” opens “Headlock”), fixation (“Doesn’t obsession just become me?” she sings on “Forever (Sailing)”) and desperation (“Fuck being remembered, I think I was made for you” from the title track). 

Read more: The Regrettes capture longing and heartache in “You’re So F*cking Pretty”

Finding inspiration was one thing, but there was also the challenge of following up her critically acclaimed debut album, 2018’s Lush. The overwhelmingly positive reception to that record crowned her as a leading artist in the indie-rock sphere at just 18 years of age. “The praise was kind of insane for a while, using the p-word — prodigy — like that shit. I’m like, ‘I don’t know about that.’ I don’t necessarily feel like a capital-p Prodigy,” she says.

“That kind of praise only made her want to work harder to prove herself, to get to a point where she felt like she earned all of those compliments, and it made the process of making a new album even harder. “It’s a really high place to fall from,” she admits. The pressure of following up such a highly acclaimed album, and fears of the “sophomore slump,” were mounting, exacerbated by the fact that Jordan, now 22, is still so young. Yet, delving into what she was experiencing emotionally at the time provided a way out.

“I was like, ‘Fuck, I don’t want to crash and burn. I’m like 12!’ So a big part of everything was just getting back to ground zero. For me, that is writing from a point of catharsis, and luckily, I was going through a lot. So as twisted as that is, I was like, ‘OK, perfect. I can take from that,’” she says.

Read more: FINNEAS on embracing transparency to make his debut album

For Jordan, making music is a way of processing her emotions. It shows on the record, which at times feels so full of emotion that it’s practically bursting with sadness or longing. The aching “Light Blue” is led by a combination of acoustic picking, echoing piano notes and sorrowful violins, which crescendos around Jordan’s evocative falsettos. She articulates the struggles in moving on from a relationship with lines such as “But I gotta grow up now/No, I can’t keep holding on to you anymore/Mia, I’m still yours,” as her voice ambles over the guitar picking, strings and piano on melancholy “Mia.”

“There’s multiple catharses in making music about your feelings,” she says. “I’m a journaler, and that’s its own catharsis, getting the words down onto paper, making sense of it.”

“Putting music to it is its own catharsis, too, because you’re providing even more and processing it as you go. Recording it is catharsis, and performing it is catharsis, so it’s all different, but it helps you work through feelings in a really unique way.”

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Jordan’s lyrics do feel like they’ve come straight out of a journal because of their confessional quality. “I’d hate to picture someone with you/I lay down and start to cry,” she sings on “Valentine.”

“It is a weird obsession with honesty, and it’s like a compulsion of honesty,” she says, linking it to growing up Catholic and going to confession. “I got really scared that I wasn’t always confessing everything all the time, and it turned into something for me, and it’s still there. Sometimes I’m confessing things, and sometimes I’m like, ‘Well, I literally can’t not force myself to say this honest-ass thing in this song, or the song is gonna be ruined.’”

That honesty is exactly what she became known for in the first place, but even in that area, she’s grown, and her work has evolved. “Every time I make a new record, I’ve noticed it’s like practicing being more open than I’m comfortable with,” Jordan says. And each time, she goes a little further. “On Lush, I thought I was being so embarrassingly vulnerable… I was just scratching the surface of vulnerability,” she says.

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Her evolution is immediately apparent when listening to her debut EP, Habit, and Lush. Across those releases, she didn’t use feminine pronouns when referring to a love interest in the songs. “I wasn’t even really all that out yet, so from there to here, it is such a big difference,” she says. There are, of course, added layers of concern when writing about her sexuality as a queer person. As Jordan puts it, she had no desire to “experience any more homophobia than I already have in my life.”

However, she’s careful not to give away too much, especially when it comes to people she knows. “I don’t want people in my life to be scared to experience stuff with me because they think I’ll write about it,” she says, an anxiety of the public eye that comes through on the “Valentine” lyric, “Those parasitic cameras, don’t they stop to stare at you?”

Jordan’s clear with her intentions, though. “Ultimately as a songwriter, I come in peace, and I just do it for me, and I do it because I like being expressive,” she says. She explains that when writing music, artists often have to be vulnerable by showing the parts of them that others — or even themselves — may not like.

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It’s her willingness to portray herself in a less than favorable light that sticks with listeners. Ben Franklin” is a prime example, trading stripped-bare vulnerability for almost callous flippancy. “Got money, I don’t care about sex,” she sings. Jordan says it was written in a “very spoiled, apathetic-ass, little rude tone because that was my way of showing that I was putting distance between myself and the things that made me uncomfortable and feel pain. And I was trying to do that in my real life, too.”

She also points to the line “Sometimes I hate her just for not being you.” “That’s mean and ugly, and so is rehab, and so is obsession and desperation and emotions that are pathetic, where you put them out there and you’re just making yourself look like shit,” she reveals.

But for Jordan, she knows there’s a trade-off when it comes to creating the art she wants to make. “All of it is sacrifices that are worth making to make really honest, personal music,” she says.

Read more: How linking up with Phoebe Bridgers allowed MUNA to finally be heard

Though the emotionality, vulnerability, transparency and maturity that Snail Mail is known for continues on this album, it sounds quite different. The most striking difference between this record and previous releases is Jordan’s voice, which is lower, deeper and more raspy than before. It’s a more mature sound, but it also helps to add gravity and fragility to the songs.

Jordan pushes her voice to a point where it sounds like it’s about to break, whether it’s the loud, powerful, rougher vocals or the dips into delicate falsettos. On “c. et al.,” Jordan sings, “I hate those long drives/At least we ended things nice,” her voice almost unable to contain the emotion in the final word. As she gets to the end of the line, “Feels like I’m losing my mind,” her voice quiets to a chilling whisper.

Before Snail Mail, Jordan was a guitarist and songwriter — and didn’t sing. Her voice changed after going on tour and learning how to take care of it with the help of a vocal coach.

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“For some reason, the resonance of it means it’s always hoarse. I’m always losing it. The way I learned to sing on tour is the style that you’re hearing on Valentine, which is more controlled. It’s healthier,” she says. Even since recording the album, Jordan says her voice has changed.

Valentine is also a progression in terms of style, confidently pulling from different genres, from “Ben Franklin”’s blaring bass to the somber acoustic picking of “Light Blue.” Jordan was listening to pop, R&B and jazz while working on Valentine, and she names Bill Evans, Oasis, Elliott Smith, the 1975, FKA twigs, Drake and Sufjan Stevens as some of the artists she turned to at the time. “Forever (Sailing)” — a rare case of being a song Jordan wrote just because she needed a 10th track — stands out because of its unusual mix of genres, as it was inspired by trip-hop, disco and yacht rock.

Even so, Jordan doesn’t only look to music for influence. She’s also an avid reader, taking plenty of inspiration from fiction. “When I’m reading something and something really touches me, I just take note of it. I’m like, ‘Why did those words on the paper really touch me?’ There’s such an art to understanding that, doing it in your own style and then bringing music to it and [the] presentation of how it’s sung. It’s almost like method acting,” she explains.

Read more: The Linda Lindas pay tribute to their cat in new single “Nino”—listen

Listing the books she devoured while working on Valentine, it’s clear that she wants to be moved above all else. She cites Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life (“An exercise in making people feel the worst they possibly can”), Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (“I was reading that around when I was working on a lot of stuff, and that really touched me emotionally”), George SaundersTenth Of December (“Really, really beautiful”), Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, James Baldwin and Joan Didion

She mentions, at the time of the interview, that she’s reading Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and bell hooks. In fact, she chose Philip Roth’s American Pastoral specifically to read while on this promotional run. “I need something that’s really consuming for this trip… and I’m loving it,” she says.

Movies are also a big point of influence for her. “On the inspiration board, I have a lot of Lars von Trier stuff, which is kind of icky,” she says. Jordan’s a big fan of horror movies, as well as dramas. She’s even been crossing “well-regarded films” that she’s never seen off her list (“I only just saw Good Will Hunting, but it’s a fun way to watch movies”).

Read more: AP&R: BLACKSTARKIDS and other rising artists to check out this month

The music video for “Valentine,” with its historical setting and costuming, is almost a mini-period drama in itself, although the genre is a recent interest of Jordan’s. And in the same way that she’s connecting with stories on the page and screen, she hopes her storytelling is just as vivid and immersive. “I hope that people can like my imagery,” she says. “I think a big part of the record is painting a picture.”

That’s certainly the case with “Automate,” one of Jordan’s favorites from the record, with its waltzing staccato and attention to detail. “It’s a picture that came exactly straight from my head onto the songs,” she says. “The imagery, for me, in my head, is very strong, and I hope that other people can see what I mean and feel what I mean.”

Ultimately, Jordan’s just hoping people connect Valentine to their own lives and experiences. “I think that’s when I have the most personal experiences with music, and the most exciting is when I hear a song and it makes me think of somebody I’m in love with or somebody that hurt my feelings,” she says. “Being able to transport other people is a really beautiful thing, and I hope that Valentine does it.”

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Gang Of Four on what they learned from James Brown, COVID-19 and more https://www.altpress.com/gang-of-four-interview-box-set-77-81-part-two/ Wed, 15 Sep 2021 00:00:03 +0000 https://www.altpress.com/gang-of-four-interview-box-set-77-81-part-two/ Welcome to the second installment of our exclusive two-part conversation with Leeds, U.K. post-punk icons Gang Of Four, represented by singer Jon King and drummer Hugo Burnham. We learned last time what the Marxist funkateers picked up from organizing political demonstrations and seeing early punk bands in the student refectory as Leeds University students. We also learned what a “refectory” is. (According to Burnham, it’s “English for ‘big bloody dining room.’”) In fact, we learned what a delightfully broad sense of humor both gents shared, in contrast to the perceived cold, angsty image their brittle polemics may exude. This time, they explain the unique chemistry of the original Gang Of Four lineup—including bassist Dave Allen and late guitarist Andy Gill—as well as the arduous path undertaken in releasing the incredible new box set ‘77-’81.

As for that box set? It’s a wonder. The music alone justifies the premium pricing. The remastering job by Abbey Road is lifelike. Every instrument sounds three-dimensional, and the dynamic Czech Republic pressings pack a 30 megaton wallop. Wrapped in some of the most elaborate, beautiful packaging in all of Christendom, ‘77-’81 is the best musical investment you’ll make all year. The hardbound book ought to be issued on its own, once the vinyl box set sells out its limited run. The rewards are hard-earned and plentiful.

Read more: Gang Of Four on their political roots, new box set ”77-’81’ and more

Please enjoy our custom playlist of Gang Of Four essentials, many drawn from the box set, as you read.

I’m struck by Andy making a noise like a man throwing a Stratocaster down a staircase. Later, I found out, “Oh, he’s listening to Wilko Johnson!” And Hugo, you’re a drum dynamo. I think you’re one of the greatest drummers to come out of that time, other than someone like Topper Headon.

HUGO BURNHAM: I think you have great taste. [Laughs.] Dr. Feelgood, the whole band was a strong influence on us, going back to stagecraft. You can see videos of them, and you can see pre-echoes of the way we would move onstage, as well. Andy borrowed significantly from Wilko, but what a great source. I mean, we borrowed from lots of things, which were the ingredients to making our own thing. But they were extraordinary, and it is about stagecraft. So many bands are like, “There’s no difference between us and the audience.” Well, there’s a massive difference. Doesn’t mean you can stop the audience getting up onstage. But you are there to entertain. You are the focus of the room. And how you deal with that may differ. But this is a performance. And stagecraft matters.

JON KING: If you see old footage of James Brown, every tiny moment of every tiny song he did, he was in control of his voice, his musicians and what he was doing with his body. And he invented a style of dancing that was as brilliant as Nureyev or Nijinsky. The guy was an utter physical god of that scampering way of dancing. Of course, there are other musicians who have emulated that. Everything that Mick Jagger does is a version of James Brown.

BURNHAM: James Brown and Tina Turner

KING: Yes, her too. The only thing I came up with was there was a great bit. I don’t know if you ever saw James Brown. It was an exhausting show to watch—it went on and on and on. But there was a little bit where he would pretend to collapse on the stage. Then he’d sing, “Please, please, please, please!” Then someone would come on, and they would put a cape around him and help him off, as if he was having a coronary or something. Then he would run back on again.

There was a little while where I used to do that onstage, as well—a little gag for the musicologists. Jim, our guitar roadie, would stand at the side of the stage, and I’d be singing whatever it was. And I’d drop down with the mic and shot and shake. Jim would come over and put the coat around me. [Laughs.]

Famously, you borrowed from funk, rhythm and blues and even disco. But you played those rhythms a lot harder. 

KING: Hugo and I were talking about this earlier this week. We were remembering how we collectively came up with the song “Return The Gift.” We always did stuff in the rehearsal room. And Andy came up with the minimum number of notes you could come up with that you could call a riff, which is two notes. [Sings the song’s two-note riff.] It qualifies as a riff, but it’s only two notes. So, that’s a starting point. What Dave and Hugo did, which was totally genius, was throw in all this stuff that took it into the direction of funk and disco. 

BURNHAM: Dave’s bass was very fluid in a way, in that song. Even though it’s chunky, it’s fluid. Then the drum part was Clem Burke’s disco style. And the two-note riff, which the Buzzcocks did once or twice, or the two-note guitar solo. We didn’t do any guitar solos. We did what we called “anti-solos.” It was the drop-out, again driven by our love of dub reggae, which is literally about dropping things out of the main riff.

We toured with the Buzzcocks quite a lot. They were very good and generous with us. It all started with a gig at Ilkley College Of Art, which is about an hour away from Leeds on the way to Manchester. Dave was doing most of the booking at that moment, calling social secretaries and things. And he kept pushing them: “C’mon, give us a gig now! Give us a gig now!” “Well, all right. Come over when the Buzzcocks are playing!” That was the night the Jam were playing the refectory at Leeds University, which is what everyone in town was going to. So, everyone was coming this way, but we were going that way! 

We turned up, pulling up with all our equipment and the Buzzcocks’ manager Richard Boon and a couple of the crew were there. “Who are you?” “Oh, we’re the support act.” “No, you’re not!” “Yes, we are!” “No, you’re not!” “Can we be?” “OK, then.” [Laughs.]

We opened the show, and I think we played for half an hour. We did our thing and banged it on. Almost a week later, Dave got a telegram from the Buzzcocks, saying, “We’re doing our first national tour. We’ve got six shows, beginning in London. Will you come with us?” It was with the Slits and John Cooper Clarke. We ended up in London with the lot. Then we ended up in Europe with them. It was our first trip across the border. Again, it was a lot larger shows than we would have been playing on our own. They were really helpful to our careers.

Then in 1979, a week after recording Entertainment!, we left to come to the States for the first time, again with the Buzzcocks. I think we did eight shows with the Buzzcocks and about 18 on our own. 

So, we owe them a hefty debt of gratitude, definitely. Two-note guitar solos included. [Laughs.] 

We should talk a bit about this box set. Hugo, you told me Jon is primarily the driving force behind it.

BURNHAM: He is, indeed. We all worked on it. Jon and I particularly worked long and hard on it. But Jon was the driving force. It was Jon’s masterwork, really. We had been talking about doing something like this as a result of getting our copyrights back from Warner Bros. in the United States, due to what is known as the 35-year rule. We had been in the black. We were being recouped from Warner Bros. for more than 20 years. [Chuckles.] And we told them, “You need to pay us more money.” This was a deal we signed in 1980. Almost everything now is digital and streaming, and the deal doesn’t reflect the current times.

We came to them with the 35-year rule and said, “We have the option to leave, but we’ve got a good history with Warner Bros. Please talk to us. Please make us an offer to stay.” It really just confirmed that it wasn’t the Warner Bros. of the past—“Warmer Bros.,” as George Clinton called them. We decided that we needed to find another partner to work with. There were a few suitors, and Matador was the most wonderful of them. That gave us the opportunity to say, “What can we do now to completely control, creatively, without them?” We decided to do this box set, focussing on the original lineup. That ‘77 to ‘81 period was when we felt the strongest work had been done, if not the strongest of a strong body of years. 

We really started the hard work in August or September of 2019, before Andy passed actually. Then it probably took a year to get it all nailed down. And then, of course, it was supposed to originally come out last December during the 40th year anniversary of Entertainment!’s release in the United States, which was February of 1980, even though it had come out in ‘79 in the rest of the world and the U.K. But then COVID happened, and they manufactured it in Eastern Europe. Hey, what can you do? It just came out, and we’re delighted by it, very happy with it. It’s a great piece of work. We put a lot of energy into it. We put a lot of people into it.

Luckily, a lot of people were very happy to contribute, whether it was words or sharing old memories and photographs. Most of the people have the records, but the book is a spectacular thing. It’s really an important part of the box. It’s not just about all the music. It’s about the time—what was driving us, the things that related us to or experiencing while we were writing the songs, what was going on.

So, COVID delayed this box set?

BURNHAM: Yes. We were very lucky. We had manufacturing delays, and Jon would have gone to Abbey Road for the mastering, just for the crack as much as anything else. You just couldn’t do that. You had to trust the people to do things. We were both actually going to fly into New York in April of last year to spend time with the record company and sit down with the art director, things like that. You can’t do that. You have to trust the technology that has been letting us down this afternoon. [Laughs.]

KING: I haven’t been in the same room with anyone from the record company. Right at the moment, I’m working on finalizing the CD version of it. It’s not going to be like the box set. It’s going to be a four CD pack with the book. Every part of the box set was manufactured in the Czech Republic because of the economics of this. There are very few places in the world that press vinyl. Yet, the demand for vinyl is soaring. There’s only plant in the U.K. that I’m aware of that does quality vinyl pressing. This Czech Republic place is outstanding and can do this type of quality boxing manufacture, as well.

BURNHAM: And the cassette!

KING: Now look at The Guardian’s interactive map of the worst places in the whole world to be, in terms of COVID, there’s the Czech Republic. If you go online, there’s different colors showing how bad it is. Central Europe and the Czech Republic are certainly the worst. The death rate is terrible. It’s really affecting the manufacturing plant. It’s really, really serious. The U.K. and U.S. have pursued a really imaginative and successful vaccination program. As of today, half of all adults in the U.K. have been vaccinated now, below the age of 18. That’s incredible. But in the Czech Republic, where people are dying very tragically in large numbers, it’s something like 3% of the population who have been [vaccinated].

It’s not necessarily been an economics thing, but it’s been quite a conundrum. As Hugo said, I only live a few miles North of Abbey Road. That’s where we recorded Solid Gold. But you can’t go through the front door. You can’t even deliver a parcel. You have to leave them on the doorstep. 

All that stuff you’re saying about the Czech Republic, Jon? It sounds like it would be great grist for a modern-day Gang Of Four song. 

KING: The only country I was ever tempted to have in a song was Switzerland. I’ve always had a book where I just write down sentences and words that I like. It might be a line in a song or the title of a song. I found a pile of a few of these pages the other day, and one of the suggested titles of a song was “The Idea Of Switzerland.” I think it would be a pretty bad title for a song, though. The idea of Switzerland has been on my mind a lot in my life. And it’s really, really a dull place. [Laughs.]

HB: Good God!

KING: It’s got beautiful mountains, and it’s really clean.

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Nolie takes an experimental approach to his music and artistry https://www.altpress.com/nolie-interview-issue-396/ Thu, 09 Sep 2021 18:55:52 +0000 Fresh in the indie scene, Nolie is a charming singer-songwriter and creative mastermind with a DIY perspective on both life and his work. With roots in hardcore and screamo music, his reinvention into the indie-pop world is in part thanks to the smooth R&B songs he grew up listening to.

Read more: DON BROCO drop “Uber” ahead of upcoming album ‘Amazing Things’—listen

Nolie had just wrapped up a small tour before the pandemic hit last year and everything had to be put on pause. He didn’t get discouraged, though, instead turning the situation in his favor and diving into his writing. Once he has an idea, the rest comes easy, sometimes only taking mere days to conceptualize the direction of a song. This inspired attitude follows him into all creative aspects of his life, even going as far as toying with the idea of making pottery like Seth Rogen does.

With hypnotic beats and stylized vocals, Nolie’s music transcends one singular feeling or emotion. Every song oozes with melodic passion in its own way, from “Not My Life,” a bouncy track about not wanting to embrace a stereotypical 9-to-5 life, to “Renaissance,” a different kind of breakup song where the relationship ends with a mutual understanding and no bad blood.

2021 is Nolie’s year. Once it’s safe to travel and tour, he’s ready to hit the road and connect directly with fans. Whether that’s in a couple of months or another long year, the anticipation of getting back out there—even if just at local L.A. shows—is worth the wait.

Others have called your music lo-fi, indie or pop, but how would you describe your sound right now?

It’s funny hearing people define it ’cause I get the whole spectrum of “electronic” or this or that. It’s not really electronic—there are elements to it. In my mind, I make pop music, and I lean way more toward the indie space of music. So it’s like indie pop, but my roots as a singer come from R&B just from what I was raised on. I think indie pop is the clearest way for me to put it, but I’m just making stuff that makes me feel really good and trying to not make super-sad songs all the time because I have a lot. If I didn’t have my producer Christofi sometimes, I would just have dreary tracks all day. I need him to make it shine and pop.

What’s your creative process of making a song like, from the initial conception to recording and then to your finished product?

It’s really quick. I work mainly with one producer/co-writer, my friend Christofi. He has been there since the beginning of what I’ve done. He’s been the most consistent person. A lot of times, he knows where we’re wanting to go or where I’m wanting to go production-wise. So he will come with a batch of music, just making tons of music and tracks. He does production for a lot of people, but he sent me a couple of songs that he was like, “I thought of you.”

For a lot of the recent ones, it’s just been a matter of two days where we’ll really get hold of a concept. So, my process is really simple and really quick. I definitely got to feel it in the track and the chords and everything. I got to feel like I can make the melody happen because I’m just that [kind of] writer. As part of how I write, I just go right for the melody. I’ll come with concepts every once in a while, but a lot of times I get a feeling, and then I interject how I’m feeling right in the moment.

Once the pandemic settles down and things go back to normal, what are you excited about doing with your music?

Touring is obviously the big goal. Right before quarantine happened, I did a tour. So in my mind, it’s going to be doing a bunch of festivals. We are planning some small shows in L.A., maybe some other little one-off things. On the fan side, I’m really trying to get back out there, but I can understand that until 2022 rolls around, I’m putting out music and doing my own little localized things. Then on my side of it, I’ve not been able to get out and interact with my friends I’ve made on social media, like artists and writers. I’m just now getting back out to do that. 

Is there another aspect of music that you think you could see yourself experimenting with in the future?

Before I was doing music, I did photography, and I was a touring photographer, videographer, director—that whole all-encompassing thing. I haven’t been in a position yet to get the kind of cameras I’d obviously love to get and really go for it on my video side. That will be a really exciting thing as far as seeing how, in the future, I can combine my video and my photo stuff into the project and really be able to do it. Right now, it’s me and my friends getting the tripod and pulling off the covers and pulling off the videos and seeing how that can go.

As far as genres go, I just hope it continues to elevate. I want to have a little bit more of a conceptualized moment. Right now, I’m just expressing myself, putting out singles, doing my thing. I’m not really moving like, “Oh, I’m going to do this big project, and I’m doing this big character right now.” Visually, [I want to see] how I can tangibly create objects in the world, like if I’m a musician that makes freaking pottery just like Seth Rogen. Who knows? Anything and everything. Seeing how we can make it just be all over the place. If I want to make another screamo record and indulge in the 15-year-old me, then maybe I will. I don’t ever want to feel like I can’t try and dream a little bit.

What’s the most important thing you want to say with your music?

For me, it’s a conversation to [my] future and past self. I want it to just feel very inclusive of everyone. If you’re somebody that’s in a place of distress or you’re feeling [some type of way] one day, I want it to be a safe space where you can go and just get it out. ’Cause I’m working it out in those songs a lot. I can’t ever really say what anybody else’s experience is going to be, but I just hope that when they’re listening to my music or they’re around something I created, they feel at peace. I hope that it makes them unlock that dreamer inner child ’cause that’s what it did for me. Since I started, it reconnected me to the little 14-, 15-year-old me, and he’s stoked. I can just be like a kid again. I hope that’s what it translates to: keeping you dreaming and willing to try.

FOR FANS OF: ROLE MODEL, Omar Apollo, COIN

SONG RECOMMENDATION:Not My Life

This issue appeared in issue 396, available here.

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AP&R: SaintAhmad, VIAL and other rising artists to check out this month https://www.altpress.com/new-rising-artists-september-2021/ Tue, 07 Sep 2021 20:55:15 +0000 https://www.altpress.com/new-rising-artists-september-2021/ Everyone loves to jam out to their favorite artists and classic hits, but let’s not forget about all the fresh talent constantly popping up around the world. From pop and indie to punk and post-hardcore, there’s always a new name in music waiting to be heard.

We know there’s a lot of faces to sift through, so we’re here to help. Each month, Alternative Press writers and editors are sharing their favorite rising artists, and we’re putting them all in one place. Check out some new artists you might have missed below.

Read more: METALHEADS hair dye celebrates alternative culture with all-star cast

SaintAhmad

Check out: “Clouds”

SaintAhmad cites Tyler, The Creator and Frank Ocean as key influences. The comparison is definitely apt. Like that pair, SaintAhmad also dialogues with the history of R&B in novel ways, drawing from the past even as he twists his source material in the direction of something unique. Even so, more direct comparisons for “Clouds” might be to Rick James’ “Mary Jane” or D’Angelo’s “Brown Sugar,” two of the all-time great (and often misunderstood) love hymns to… a different kind of musical inspiration. What makes SaintAhmad’s contribution to that tradition unique is his ability to spin a tale of queer love from delicately placed double entendres, a perfect sonic portrait of same-sex desire for a confident new generation. JP Ervin

Teenage Sequence

Check out: “All This Art”

Dewan-Dean Soomary operates under Teenage Sequence, a dance-punk outfit whose debut single, “All This Art,” isn’t dissimilar to James Murphy’s self-deprecating rants in LCD Soundsystem. In six-and-a-half minutes of spoken word, Soomary manages to name-drop Dischord Records, interrogate an industry that still breeds racism and make quite an introduction over a swirling loop (which he jokingly calls “pop career suicide”). RIYL Hot Chip, ESG and Liquid Liquid. Neville Hardman

Camille Jeanne

Check out: “Stupid Head”

Stupid Head” from Camille Jeanne’s debut EP, New Room, is an alternative feminist anthem. In the track, she calls out a shitty ex-lover with extremely personal—yet all-too-relatable—storytelling. The combination of Jeanne’s soothing vocal harmonies, angsty guitar riffs and vulnerable lyricism define her music. Any song on the EP is sure to please, given they were designed to make listeners “experience different sensations during each song, as if they are entering a new room.” Taylor Linzinmeir

Tiberius b

Check out: “No Smoke”

If the initial COVID-19 lockdown had you ruminating about life like an angsty teenager again, you’re not alone. What started as a way to pass the time while locked down in their grandmother’s house in the Welsh countryside, Tiberius b’s debut EP, Stains, rethinks what pop music could be. Their melancholic guitar riffs certainly complement their diaristic lyrics about love, gender, psychedelics and all the complications human existence has to offer. Like an in-your-face ’90s Fiona Apple song, Tiberius b lets out those repressed emotions, just with a stripped-down and modern indie-pop sound. Katie Schmidt

Left To Suffer

Check out: “EVENT”

Those who forget the past may be doomed to repeat it, but sometimes they’ll just never replicate it. So it is with nü metal, a genre quickly turned into a simplified groovefest with none of the creepy vibes introduced by Korn. That band didn’t only keep you on the edge of your seat—they damn near kicked it. Atlanta nü-deathcore prodigies Left To Suffer maintain the emotional heft and eerie atmosphere of their sonic and spiritual predecessors. And therefore have the best chance of breaking off deathcore’s not-so-freaky leash. Bradley Zorgdrager

Brace Yourself

Check out: “Last July”

Brace Yourself are a pandemic baby started by some Tucson pals in March 2020. The band blend punk influences such as softcore guitar work, Xander Mason’s poppy vocals and drummer Braden Matsuzawa’s Travis Barker-eque tendencies on the popular track “Redemption.” Aptly named, Brace Yourself play like a scaled-back A Day To Remember, with more intricacies and experimentation than the genre giant’s early work. Ryan Piers

WALWIN

Check out: “Save It For Myself” 

If you’re a fan of the iconic emo music that defined your early 2000s playlists, you need to be listening to U.K. artist WALWIN. All fans of Punk Goes Pop are required to check out WALWIN’s cover of “Castle On The Hill,” which will blow away even the most die-hard Ed Sheeran fans. Destined to be an alternative icon, this artist brilliantly blends acoustic elements, soulful vocals and well-crafted narratives. Each track is dazzling and melancholy, vibrant and introspective, which is exactly what the new age of emo calls for. Maria Serra

Stars Hollow

Check out: “With Weight.”

It’s hard to keep track of whatever emo wave the internet has decided we’re in now, but Stars Hollow have a place in it regardless. Hailing from Des Moines, this twinkly Midwestern outfit started out as a remarkably candid form of release for lead singer/guitarist Tyler Stodghill while going through the motions at Iowa State University. With drummer Andrew Ferren and bassist Gavin Brown by his side, the band’s new LP, I Want To Live My Life, sounds like it could fall anywhere between Gulfer and a more melancholy Algernon Cadwallader. Joshua Carter

VIAL

Check out: “Violet”

VIAL are bringing ’90s queercore into the 2020s with honest lyrics and unbelievably hypnotic guitar riffs. Splitting vocal duties, the four-piece—drummer Katie Fischer, bassist Kate Kanfield, keytarist Taylor Kraemer and guitarist KT Branscom—are an incredibly unique group. Their riffs are reminiscent of the B-52’s, and their lyrics hark back to the days when riot grrrl and queercore dominated the punk and indie underground. 2021 is shaping up to be an exciting one as they prepare for the release of their second album, Loudmouth. Fans of Daddy Issues, Pool Kids and Future Teens can find a new favorite band in VIAL. Marian Phillips

This list originally appeared in issue 396, available here.

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10 times different artists collaborated to make inspiring music https://www.altpress.com/musical-collaborations-billie-joe-armstrong/ Fri, 03 Sep 2021 21:55:22 +0000 September 1963: A young R&B combo called the Rolling Stones are rehearsing, preparing for a recording session. Their manager, former Beatles publicist Andrew Loog Oldham, was tearing his hair out. They were about to record their second single, a follow-up to their modestly successful remake of Chuck Berry’s “Come On.” But they had one problem: Their entire repertoire was raw blues, R&B and ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll covers, the more obscure the better.

Oldham had yet to impress upon his charges the essentiality of developing songwriting skills, especially in giving the band material commercial enough to ignite the success they desired. (This happened a few months down the road, when he locked singer Mick Jagger and guitarist Keith Richards in a room and told them not to emerge until they’d written a song.)

Read more: Turnstile share highly anticipated new full-length ‘GLOW ON’—listen

According to Richards’ 2010 autobiography, Life, Oldham left the rehearsal to walk about, clear his head and nurse his growing ulcer. He ran into former clients John Lennon and Paul McCartney, departing a taxi cab.

“They had a drink, and they detected Andrew’s distress,” Richards wrote. “He told them: No songs. They came back to the studio with him and gave us a song that was on their next album but wasn’t coming out as a single, ‘I Wanna Be Your Man.’

We turned it into an unmistakably Stones rather than Beatles song. It was clear we had a hit almost before they’d left the studio.”

Richards noted this was the blossoming of a lifelong mutual admiration society. As the Stones ascended to become the Beatles’ chief rivals in the British pop boom that eventually went global, and it meant they would even time their singles releases so they didn’t clash: “I remember John Lennon calling me up and saying, ‘Well, we’ve not finished mixing yet.’ ‘We’ve got one ready to go.’ ‘OK, you go first.’” They would also appear on each other’s records—the Beatles’ “All You Need Is Love,” the Stones’ “We Love You.”

Fruitful, beneficial, inspirational friendships among creative sorts are as old as history itself. There’s the entire idea of the salon, which in some accounts goes back to the 16th century: A host organizes gatherings of writers, artists, philosophers and the like to converse, exchange ideas and entertain one another. Two of the most renowned 20th century salons include the Algonquin Round Table, who lunched daily at that NYC hotel between 1919 and 1929. Among  its membership: Writer Dorothy Parker, journalists Alexander Woollcott, Ruth Hale, Heywood Broun and future Hollywood screenwriter Robert Benchley. At roughly the same time, American writer in Parisian exile Gertrude Stein held gatherings every Saturday, which saw Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso and Ezra Pound, among others, rubbing shoulders.

Read more: These 10 bands prove that Cleveland was one of punk’s earliest capitals

The mid-20th century saw a pair of what were essentially drinking societies contributing much to American and/or world culture. The first were the BeatsJack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, Herbert Huncke and Lucien Carr—met in and around Columbia University in 1944. Their dedication to a sort of spiritual bohemian hedonism and spontaneous creativity led to Burroughs, Kerouac and Ginsberg becoming three of the 20th century’s key literary figures. Meanwhile, old-school crooners Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr., comedian Joey Bishop and actor Peter Lawford’s epic drinking sessions moved into films (Ocean’s 11) and Las Vegas revues under the popular sobriquet the Rat Pack.

As the story above about the communion between the Beatles and Stones indicates, the idea of the salon or beneficial creative friendship exists in rock ‘n’ roll, as well. Earlier than that was the Million Dollar QuartetElvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis loosely jamming on gospel tunes at Sun Records in late 1956, as Sam Phillips rolled his tape machines. So of course, the punk and alternativerock eras boasted their share of such fellowships. Here’s 10 of the most notable.

Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground

New York protopunk figures the Velvet Underground formed in 1965, centered around leader Lou Reed’s poetic songs of drug misuse and deviant sexuality. Pop artist Andy Warhol discovered them via his second-in-command Paul Morrissey, who saw them at Greenwich Village tourist trap Cafe Bizarre late in the year. Their loud, dissonant rock ‘n’ roll, black clothing and surly dispositions was turning away customers in droves. Morrissey somehow believed this was exactly the ticket for the Warhol operation to get into rock ‘n’ roll.

Warhol lent them his fame and a peelable banana painting for their first LP’s cover. He teamed them with German vocalist Nico, who gave them a sorta icy sex appeal. He also organized around the VU a multimedia showcase called the Exploding Plastic Inevitable, a sensory assault that surrounded this loud, physical band with strobe lights, projections of Warhol’s films over them and dancers brandishing whips. The association ceased the following year, though Warhol apparently still advised Reed on creative matters over the years, such as writing a song with the line “Vicious, you hit me with a flower.”

Danny Fields and the Stooges

As the New York Times put it in 2014, “You could make a convincing case that without Danny Fields, punk rock would not have happened.” He was certainly a central figure in many of punk’s catalytic moments. In his role as an Elektra Records publicist, Fields brought the MC5 and the Stooges to the label. He eventually managed the Stooges as they self-destructed to their first breakup. As Iggy Pop slept on Fields’ couch in NYC two months later, the latter engineered a meeting with soon-to-be-Ziggy-Stardust David Bowie, masterminding a collaboration for the ages. Fields went on to manage the Ramones, thus providing the planet with its best blueprints for punk rock. He may be the best friend a punk rocker could have.

David Bowie and Iggy Pop

England’s Melody Maker magazine asked a number of top vocalists in May 1971 about their favorite singers. Topping Bowie’s list: Iggy Pop. It took some doing for Fields to get Pop off his couch and down to Max’s Kansas City to meet his prominent fan: “Look, I’m watching It’s A Wonderful Life, and [Jimmy Stewart) is so sincere!…I don’t wanna go down there!” Once Pop peeled off Fields’ Naugahyde and in Max’s famed backroom, the dominoes lined up: Signatures on contracts with Bowie manager Tony DefriesMainman organization and Columbia Records, plane tickets to England, the reformation of Iggy And The Stooges around guitarist James Williamson and Asheton brothers Ron and Scott on bass and drums, respectively. Hence, definitive punk LP Raw Power was born, mixed by Bowie. After the Stooges’ second breakup in 1974, Bowie took Pop with him on his 1976 Station To Station tour to wean him off smack, eventually relocating the pair to Berlin. Bowie produced Pop’s first two solo LPs, The Idiot and Lust For Life, quietly playing keyboards in the road band. When his pal crashed and burned seven years later, Bowie got him out of crushing debt by recording their co-write “China Girl” for his massively successful Let’s Dance LP. The pair last worked together on Pop’s moody 1986 Blah-Blah-Blah

Ian MacKaye and Henry Rollins

Minor Threat/Fugazi/Dischord Records mainman Ian MacKaye and Henry Rollins, the longest-running Black Flag singer and future underground polymath, have been friends since childhood. They met when Rollins was still Henry Garfield and were part of a gang of skateboarders: “It was a tribe thing,” MacKaye told Loud And Quiet. “I think I deeply desired a tribe, and the skateboarding thing gave me really good practice on how to define the world around you.” When Rollins was asked by Black Flag to quit his job at a Häagen-Dazs ice cream shop and move to Los Angeles to front the band, it was MacKaye who advised him to go for it. The pair developed similar approaches to handling a vocal mic in their respective outfits, as well as equivalent sets of DIY ethics. Rollins told Joe Rogan on Episode 906 of his podcast that he and MacKaye still speak weekly by telephone, usually on Sundays.

Lydia Lunch, the Birthday Party and Sonic Youth

Queen Of Noise and interdisciplinary outsider artist Lydia Lunch has been a friend and nurturing presence to the underground beneath the underground. She has befriended and collaborated with many of the most notable wayward souls picking up guitars or whatever tools they use to express inner pain and rage at this cruel world. Circa 1982, she linked up with Australian dadaist noise outfit the Birthday Party in London. This led to the reported writing of 50 one-page plays with singer Nick Cave, lost to time and a rift between the two; a split live EP Drunk On The Pope’s Blood/The Agony Is The Ecstacy; and collaborative album project, Honeymoon In Red, released in 1987. More fruitful was the splinter projects Lunch undertook with genius Birthday Party guitarist Rowland S. Howard—a beautiful 1982 single remaking Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood’s “Some Velvet Morning” and 1991’s Southern Gothic swamp-rock album Shotgun Wedding

Lunch saw the potential of LES guitar-rock deconstructionists Sonic Youth early on. The resultant commingling included 1985’s brilliant post-Stooges ode to the Manson family, “Death Valley ‘69”; a 1987 collaboration with Thurston Moore, The Crumb; and his overdubs on Honeymoon In Red

Sonic Youth and Nirvana

NYC noiseniks Sonic Youth graduated to the big leagues with their 1990 signing to major-label DGC. They shifted into the unofficial roles of Moms and Pops Of The Underground upon their arrival, lending a helping hand to young bands such as Bikini Kill—offering advice, loaning equipment when it was stolen, etc. Possibly the biggest boost they gave to a budding underground act was Nirvana. Sonic Youth encouraged DGC to sign the Sub Pop grunge mavens, then took them on the road with them to Europe just before Nevermind’s release. The tour was documented in Dave Markey’s 1992 documentary, 1991: The Year Punk Broke. Kim Gordon later joined Nirvana onstage at their Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame induction ceremony.

William S. Burroughs and Kurt Cobain

William S. Burroughs, the grand old man of outré literature never ceased to create or to be hip, even as he settled what would normally have been his pensioneer years. As James Grauerholz assumed duties as Burroughs’ assistant, business manager and caretaker, he became a conduit by which leading figures of the budding punk scene gained audiences with Burroughs. Among those who gained the Naked Lunch author’s counsel were Joe Strummer and Hüsker Dü: “Always, after smoking a bunch of weed, William would bring up the possibility of going out back to throw some knives,” the latter’s Bob Mould wrote his 2011 memoir, See A Little Light. “You went along with it because it’s William.” Patti Smith particularly enjoyed an extended dialogue with Burroughs that amounted to his mentorship of punk’s primary poet. 

Particularly intriguing was Burroughs’ long-distance collaboration with Kurt Cobain. The Nirvana star contacted him in 1992, desperate to work with the Beat legend. Burroughs sent the younger musician a tape of him reading a short story about an unidentified junkie attempting a heroin score on Christmas Eve. Cobain set it to his electric guitar work, and it was released as a limited-edition EP titled The “Priest” They Called Him in 1993. In October of that year, Cobain finally met Burroughs in his Lawrence, Kansas, home. “There’s something wrong with that boy,” Burroughs reportedly remarked to Grauerholz after Cobain left. “He frowns for no good reason.”

Tim Armstrong and Billie Joe Armstrong

No, the Rancid and Green Day mainmen are not related, despite sharing a surname. But Tim Armstrong and Billie Joe Armstrong have crossed creative paths many times over the years. Green Day covered a few songs by Tim’s first band, Operation Ivy. Billie Joe even co-wrote the Rancid single “Radio.” He played one show with them as second guitarist and was asked to join permanently. We’re pretty sure Lars Frederiksen is happy Billie Joe declined. Tim directed and had a cameo in Green Day’s 2016 “Bang Bang” video. Then in 2017, the two formed the band the Armstrongs, also featuring Billie Joe’s son Joey and Tim’s nephew Rey. The single “If There Was Ever A Time” was released in 2017.

Paul Weller and Noel Gallagher

Former Oasis leader Noel Gallagher has spoken of how mod revivalist punks the Jam inspired him to pick up a guitar and choose music as his path, especially their 1980 album Sound Affects. Which makes a lot of sense, if you consider the youth explosion anthemic quality of Jam leader Paul Weller’s anthems such as “When You’re Young.” It’s not a far stride from there to “Supersonic” or “Live Forever,” or Gallagher’s Union Jack-emblazoned Epiphone guitar. Weller recognized the kindred spirit and reached out. The pair have collaborated numerous times, usually covering some Jam or Oasis song at charity gigs. Weller last summer dispelled rumors started by Liam Gallagher that he’d urged Noel to dissolve Oasis: “I would never, ever give Noel Gallagher advice,” Weller told the NME. “What do you say to someone who just sold 50 million fucking records?” ⁣Gallagher has said of their friendship, “Once you’ve had to throw someone out of your house at 7 in the morning a few times and, you know, nearly got in fights with them, that kind of thing, [hero-worship] ceases to exist any more, and you’re kind of his mate.”

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1998’s top 15 punk albums simultaneously changed and preserved the form https://www.altpress.com/best-punk-albums-1998-rancid-bad-religion-the-offspring/ Thu, 26 Aug 2021 22:55:32 +0000 Top 15 punk albums of 1998? You’d be forgiven for thinking that there weren’t any in the year the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal dominated the news. A quick perusal of Billboard’s Hot 100 singles of the year sees domination by several R&B (Destiny’s Child, Janet Jackson, Usher, Mariah Carey) or hip-hop (Puff Daddy, Master P, Busta Rhymes, Missy Elliott) acts. Neo-country artists Shania Twain, Faith Hill and LeAnn Rimes also featured, as well as such stars as Celine Dion and the eternal Madonna. Then there’s the rise of British sensations Spice Girls, offering a sort of riot grrrl-lite philosophy couched in modern dance pop, and the ascension of the prefab boy bandBackstreet Boys, *NSYNC. Oh, and a 16-year-old future juggernaut called Britney Spears emerged from Louisiana with her first hit, “…Baby One More Time.” 

Read it: You can’t even find a note of Green Day. The closest thing to punk on that list? Former anarcho-punks-turned-anarcho-poppers Chumbawamba from the U.K. with their enormously successful, vicious parody of pub singalongs, “Tubthumping.” But its loud electro-dance groove was far from their Crass-inspired origins. 

Read more: These 10 bands prove that Cleveland was one of punk’s earliest capitals

Punk didn’t need gargantuan record sales or MTV and radio saturation play. It hardly had any of that before Green Day hit so massively four years earlier. Mind you, two prime movers of that commercial punk boom—Rancid and the Offspring—put out key releases this year. Scandinavia was churning out some records from Turbonegro, Backyard Babies and especially Refused that would revolutionize the punk-rock underground. There’d be flashes of classic punk from the Humpers, Turbo A.C.’s, Swingin’ Utters and New Bomb Turks. NYHC standard-bearers Agnostic Front issued probably their definitive album. And Fugazi continued to push musical boundaries. Alternative Press proudly presents the 15 best punk albums of 1998.

Turbonegro – Apocalypse Dudes

Suddenly, the glam and ‘70s metal elements in Norwegian “death-punk” kings Turbonegro got turbo-boosted. It can be firmy laid at the feet of new guitar hero Euroboy (Knut Schreiner), who looked and played like Mick Ronson’s corpse reanimated by a 50,000-watt hotwire jammed up its butt. The record featured the biggest, most FM radio-friendly production the band had received. It highlighted advanced songwriting couching their anti-social sense of humor within their shiniest pop hooks. Arrangements sported new frills such as congas, piano and acoustic guitar. Apocalypse Dudes made huge stars out of Turbonegro in Europe and took them just above the underground in America. But internal pressures still mounted, including singer Hank von Helvete’s heroin addiction struggles. The band broke up that December, 10 months following the album’s release.

Refused – The Shape Of Punk To Come

Swedish hardcore outfit Refused threw down a gauntlet with their third LP. The title alone should have held a clue—avant-jazz saxophonist Ornette Coleman issued a revolutionary 1959 album called The Shape Of Jazz To Come. But Refused asked a pertinent question, across Shape’s liner notes and in the lyrics to several songs, especially “New Noise.” Basically, how could punk and hardcore call itself “anti-establishment” when the sound was getting increasingly co-opted by the mainstream? Those “revolutionary” lyrics weren’t sounding so threatening anymore. Refused applied drum-and-bass production techniques, gene-splicing in post-hardcore, post-punk, techno and jazz elements. The combinations, alongside the widened dynamic range, were endlessly explosive, continually surprising. You could not map out what Refused were doing. Still, its heightened emotionalism birthed screamo. It destroyed the band from the inside out on the road in the U.S. as they struggled to promote an album that changed everything.

Backyard Babies – Total 13

“Rock Chaos” advised a blurb in the jacket’s corner. It’s absolute truth in advertising. The Hellacopters’ flash guitarist Dregen opted to leave that Stooge-rock outfit after their 1997 Payin’ The Dues album. He wanted to reactivate Backyard Babies, the band he formed in high school. Total 13 made them stars in Sweden and brought them to the rest of the world. Their precision with melding metallic bombast, punk simplicity and attitude and glam flash was like a New York Dolls/Motörhead jam session. Between the caveman pounding of the Johan Blomqvist (bass)/Peder Carlsson (drums) rhythm section, Dregen’s bazooka/Thunders lead work and Nicke Borg’s sore throat Mike Ness-isms? It’s no wonder that tuneful blasters such as “Look At You” and “Made Me Madman” grabbed the rock ‘n’ roll world by the shorthairs.

Rancid – Life Won’t Wait

Rancid came off the road promoting …And Out Come The Wolves wishing to fuck with the format a bit, though maybe not as drastically as Refused. They went almost immediately into the studio from the road. However, the studio changed locations several times, from San Francisco and L.A. to NYC and New Orleans. Hell, they even recorded in Kingston, Jamaica. All manner of special guests spice up the 22 tracks, from Billie Joe Armstrong to the Mighty Mighty BosstonesDicky Barrett and members of Agnostic Front, D Generation, the Specials and reggae legend Buju Banton. The reggae influence was especially pronounced on the title track, though there were still plenty of old-school Rancid punk bashers, such as “Bloodclot.” Life Won’t Wait would be the last Epitaph Rancid release for a while, with the band moving to Tim Armstrong’s Hellcat sub-imprint.

Bad Religion – No Substance

Los Angeles’ originators of melodic thesaurus punk Bad Religion were now two albums away from Epitaph Records and founding guitarist/songwriter Brett Gurewitz, who left in 1994. Stranger Than Fiction and The Gray Race had both been successful worldwide under their Atlantic Records deal. Tenth full-length No Substance was highly anticipated as a result. It instead hit fans’ and critics’ ears like a damp squib. Hard to say why—BR still had plenty of guitar power, thanks to ex-Minor Threat/Dag Nasty hero Brian Baker. The production was top-notch, especially Chris Lord-Alge’s mix job. But songs such as “The State Of The End Of The Millennium Address” weren’t up to Bad Religion’s gold standard. Tellingly, no song here has remained in their live sets.

Dropkick Murphys – Do Or Die

Dropkick Murphys came barreling out of Boston in the mid-’80s with a loud, testosterone-pumped mixture of Cockney Rejects-style street punk with the Pogues’ Irish folk-punk stylings. Opening for the Mighty Mighty Bosstones across the U.S. as they promoted their breakout Let’s Face It certainly helped spread word about this mob. By the time they inked with Hellcat and Rancid’s Lars Frederiksen got them in the studio for their debut album, all of Do Or Die’s songs were locked-in and tighter than a snare drum. De-emphasizing bagpipes and tin whistles in favor of sky-punching power chords steered this from becoming a novelty. This would be vocalist Mike McColgan’s sole full-length with Dropkick Murphys. He’d resurface later in Street Dogs.

Fugazi – End Hits

D.C.’s post-hardcore kings Fugazi were now five albums old. Previous album Red Medicine from 1995 resulted in a grind of a world tour. Following an extended break in which they also wrote new songs, the band reconvened at Inner Ear Studios with Don Zientara to record what became End Hits. Taking their time with it, they experimented. with new recording techniques. Ultimately, Fugazi emerged with an LP as different from the rest of their discography as they were from the rest of the rock world. To hear, say, “Recap Modotti” barely utilize any guitar and continually build quiet tension that never quite releases was remarkable.

The Humpers – Euphoria, Confusion, Anger And Remorse

Eight albums in from their 1989 formation, all seemed all right on the surface these explosive Long Beach trad-punks. Euphoria, Confusion, Anger And Remorse was chock-full of such ballistic snot rockets as “Steel-Toed Sneakers” and “Devil’s Magic Pants.” There were even a few stylistic detours, such as the Spector-esque “Fucking Secretaries” and the ‘50s-styled “Peggy Sue Got Buried.” A Los Angeles Times profile saw the band and Epitaph Records mutually frustrated at their lack of career advancement, with the band refusing to reform waywardness that repulsed some club owners. Euphoria proved to be the Humpers’ final studio LP.

New Bomb Turks – At Rope’s End

Columbus, Ohio’s kings of grad-school garage punk were now four albums and countless singles into their loud and crunchy reign. Only the most casual of listeners would dig their union of ‘60s garage with hardcore overdrive and think of it as simplistic bashing. A careful audit of At Rope’s End would reveal the clever subtleties embedded within their caveman roar. Opening track “Scapegoat Soup,” for example, features a guitar lead buried in its mix utilizing a distortion box with dying batteries. The notes sputter and get severely truncated. It works. No one other than New Bomb Turks would’ve imagined that.

The Offspring – Americana

“The idea wasn’t to reinvent the wheel,” Offspring singer Dexter Holland explained to Guitar World magazine about the business-as-usual sound of fifth studio album Americana. “We expanded our horizons on our last record [Ixnay On The Hombre], and that’s OK, but I don’t feel like you have to be a completely different band on every record.” Which might explain why Ixnay hardly did the business Smash had. But Americana produced the band’s biggest hits, probably because it was more of the same. Seriously, the differences between 1994 breakthrough hit “Come Out And Play” and this album’s “Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)” were damned near negligible. Americana became their second biggest-selling album and their highest charting album at No. 2 on Billboard’s Hot 100.

Alkaline Trio – Goddamnit

Future Alkaline Trio fans may not have been all that surprised when listening to the Chicago trio’s 1998 debut album. It was certainly not as lushly produced as such later hits as Good Mourning, nor were the themes as macabre as later material. But longstanding singer/guitarist Matt Skiba and bassist/vocalist Dan Andriano and then-drummer Glenn Porter were mining that same infusion of Superchunk’s quirky pop structures with Ramones/Misfits power drive that remains their trademark. Gentle acoustic ballad “Enjoy Your Day” is a pleasant surprise, however. It was a promising start for what became one of the finest punk bands of the ‘00s.

Dillinger Four – Midwestern Songs Of The Americas

There was nothing like Dillinger Four or their debut album when Midwestern Songs Of The Americas was issued. It was punk-pop, but it was brutal as Motörhead. The result was a sort of trashy version of Hüsker Dü as they transitioned from their early hardcore to their Midwestern Buzzcocks mode. It roared yet sounded cheaply recorded all the same. They were righteously political yet had this absurdist humor. The latter led them to sampling a thrift store stereo sampler record. It’s their overall intelligence that ultimately dazzles. It led to song titles like “Super Powers Enable Me To Blend In With Machinery” and lyrics like, “But it’s the slow decay of the day-to-day/That says take your paycheck, accept your place and fade away.” This record should be in every home.

Swingin’ Utters – Five Lessons Learned

The fourth album from Santa Cruz’s old-school punks the Swingin’ Utters was a school in repurposing classic pogo-rock riffs. “The Stooge” dumbed down the chord progression from the Buzzcocks’ “Harmony In My Head.” Meanwhile “I Need Feedback” modified changes from the Stooges’ “I Got A Right” and the Damned’s “Neat Neat Neat.” But a bunch of new musical wrinkles got stitched into their sound, from “A Promise To Distinction”’s country touches to the minor-key ska of “Unpopular Again” and the Irish folk tinge to “Fruitless Fortunes.” Not quite the Swingin’ Utters’ London Calling but a definite sign of growth.

The Turbo A.C.’s – Winner Take All

If punk rock were a drag strip, New York City’s Turbo A.C.’s would be a nitro-burning rat rod. They were formed in 1995 by singer/guitarist Kevin Cole, bassist Mike Dolan and drummer Kevin Prunty as an amalgam of rockabilly, surf instrumentals, the Ramones and hardcore’s energy. The name was derived from the Turnbull AC’s, one of the fictitious gangs mentioned in the 1979 film The Warriors. Winner Take All was their third LP and might be their most representative. With ripping burners such as “Thunderbolt,” “Hit The Road” and “Mean Mistreater,” there’s no way it could lose.

Agnostic Front – Something’s Gotta Give

The longtime standard-bearers of NYHC, centered around guitarist Vinnie Stigma and vocalist Roger Miret, Agnostic Front had also been key to hardcore’s crossover metal sound. Miret and Stigma reformed AF in 1996 after a four-year absence with bassist Rob Kabula and drummer Jimmy Colletti. Now signed to Epitaph, the potent Something’s Gotta Give marked a return to their early hardcore sound. They had not lost an ounce of brutality nor locomotion over time. However, tracks such as anthemic single “Gotta Go” proved they were also capable of hard-bitten old-school punk rock. It was a fine return from the veteran warlords.

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