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| Heroes/legends. |
Los Angeles punk legends X have only one member actually from LA – drummer DJ Bonebrake, and it turns out even he’s a valley kid. The rest of band hail from Tallahassee (Exene Cervenka, vocals/spirit animal), Illinois (Billy Zoom, guitar/style), and Baltimore (John Doe bass/vocals/anchor). The better your feel for American geography, the more those starting points align, but there aren’t many things more quintessentially American than chasing dreams in the City of Angels.
Over the past week looking into X, the fact they actually tried to get famous surprised me as much as anything. After the reasonably polished More Fun in the New World failed to gain enough cash and attention, Zoom threatened to leave the band if they didn’t get big enough returns on the next album. The band handed production over to Michael Wagener, the same guy navigating the hair metal scene for Stryper and Dokken, and 1987's Ain’t Love Grand came out on the other side. It’s a stunningly awful album, the first side in particular, one that “sounds like it was recorded in a strip club for a strip club.” The pay day didn’t come either. Whatever his role in the entire snafu, Zoom offered this perfect riposte to anyone who ever accused the band of selling out:
“Selling out is when you get a bunch of money. If you didn’t get a bunch of money, you didn’t sell out.”
Over the past week looking into X, the fact they actually tried to get famous surprised me as much as anything. After the reasonably polished More Fun in the New World failed to gain enough cash and attention, Zoom threatened to leave the band if they didn’t get big enough returns on the next album. The band handed production over to Michael Wagener, the same guy navigating the hair metal scene for Stryper and Dokken, and 1987's Ain’t Love Grand came out on the other side. It’s a stunningly awful album, the first side in particular, one that “sounds like it was recorded in a strip club for a strip club.” The pay day didn’t come either. Whatever his role in the entire snafu, Zoom offered this perfect riposte to anyone who ever accused the band of selling out:
“Selling out is when you get a bunch of money. If you didn’t get a bunch of money, you didn’t sell out.”
X did, however, push against the heart of their appeal on Ain’t Love Grand, of what made them feel so authentic. I pulled a lot of the above from a 2019 retrospective on X in an outlet called The Outline (with some filling in from a 2017 Rolling Stone retrospective on the band’s 40th anniversary). Anyone curious about how X formed (poetry classes, through the classified ads), whether or not the girl from the song “Los Angeles” was real (yes), how their sound evolved will do a lot better to stop reading this, and go read both of those. The Outline piece, however, gives the best and fullest account of their sound, inspirations and influences. The author, Andrew Holter, also knows what to borrow, as when he lifts a quote from a 1987 review in The New York Times on “American rock-and-roll” in the mid-1980s, and lumps X in with that sound:
“The music is basic — three chords and a back beat. The tone is earnest, plain-spoken, just folks. The verses are short stories, terse sketches of characters trying to get by. And the choruses, ready-made for sing-alongs, are about ‘hard times.’”
The guy who wrote that quote, John Pareles, further sharpened that thought and, in doing so, arrives at the best definition of X’s lyrical content: “more like case histories, or journalism, than protest songs.” On the music side, X’s punk had 50s influences from the beginning (and The Ventures, which I learned after hearing a lot of them in X’s “Year One”), and a lot of that grew from Zoom’s guitar. X elbowed their way into the heart of LA’s punk scene by laying heavy rhythm under Zoom’s lacerating guitar hooks (also, by just playing punk rock) and with Doe and Exene wailing lyrics they brought with them from the poetry classes where they met, with echoes of Raymond Carver and William Burroughs coming through.
That applied to their first two (major) studio albums, Los Angeles and Wild Gift. The Doors’ Ray Manzarek produced both albums – as well as More Fun – after seeing the band play and having his wife notice they played a cover of “Soul Kitchen” during their set. Manzarek actually makes a cameo on “Nausea,” but he deserves more credit than Wagener for helping the band sound like its best natural self – something I feel comfortable saying because, when X put out See How We Are, they returned to a more countrified version of their original sound.
If all the above is a little disjointed, here’s something a little more linear: X lasted from 1977 to (roughly) 1987 (there’s also 1993’s Hey Zeus!; Wikipedia does come in handy), and they played a pivotal role in LA’s famous punk scene. They might have failed to achieve all their dreams, but they got big enough to talk to Dick Clark, and play on David Letterman and at one of the Farm Aids (say, how’s supply-side economics treating you guys?). They’re getting up there (AARP called a while back), Zoom has survived two bouts of cancer, Exene got a little wacky and she’s living with an “undiagnosed neurological condition,” and they appear to have had several different kinds of fallings out. They’re still touring, incredibly, and with that original line-up. Better still, they sound genuinely happy to be doing it. Whatever Exene has said or done to annoy you, this quote from her is perfect:
“We are still alive. We’re still playing music. People are still coming to see us – lots of young people – and they tell us our music got them through bad times or their kid turned them onto us or their parents turned them onto us. Everybody that comes to see us has a story. … This is exactly how punk was supposed to end up.”
Had you asked me to name my favorite band, it would have answer X for several years. I loved their energy and their sound, but it was always the lyrical side, where they write so vividly and (this is important) naturally that perfected the bond. They can tell beautiful stories – e.g., “See How We Are” and “4th of July” – haunting ones – e.g., “Riding with Mary” and “Come Back to Me” – and little slice o’ life comedies for the punk rock set – e.g., “I See Red” and “We’re Desperate.” I played my cassette tape of More Fun till it broke, and when I did my damnedest to do the same to their awesome 1997 anthology Beyond & Back (but it’s tough to break a CD).. That anthology acts as a cautionary tale in that, sometimes the demo version they used for that forever ruins the study version – e.g., “4th of July.” (That's a demo, btw, but the live versions, which, especially with a band as raw as X, often sends you sprinting back to studio versions that don’t sound like someone bellowing into a mic shoved down his/her throat. See “Once Over Twice” v. “Once Over Twice.”)
As for the individual albums, it’s fair to lump Los Angeles and Wild Gift together in that they had all those songs ready when they recorded Los Angeles, they just dumped the balance what didn’t make it that album onto Wild Gift; fwiw, I rate Wild Gift as the better album between them. They took a big tonal departure on the follow-up, Under the Big Black Sun, an album written under the big black cloud of the untimely death of Exene’s sister, Mirielle. It already felt a little richer, and a little more thoughtful than the other two before I knew about that specific connection. Because it has a lot of “first love” associations for me, I’m probably the worst judge of More Fun, but I still love the hell out of that album, especially the B-side. Ain't Love Grand should be avoided like the plague, obviousy, but See How We Are matured X’s sound nicely, and it brought in still more of the country influences that inspired the band’s post-Zoom side-project, The Knitters.
Because I included two songs by The Knitters – the pining, half-comic, “Someone Like You” and the more traditional, “Walkin’ Cane” – they’re a pretty good segue to the playlist. Because I stuck 11 X songs onto the playlist, I wound up expanding the playlist itself to 30 songs (see below for the second reason). When choosing those 11 songs, I reached for a mix of their semi-famous stuff – e.g., “See How We Are,” “I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts,” and “Once Over Twice” – and songs I never allowed myself to get sick of – e.g., “Universal Corner,” “In This House I Call Home,” and “Under the Big Black Sun.” I rounded the selection with a pair of favorites from More Fun – “I See Red” and “Hot House” (on Letterman!) – and, now that I’ve heard Ray Manzarek’s charming contribution to it, “Nausea.”
Let’s look at the rest of the playlist…
Stef Chura is a fairly new artist, just two albums in (2017’s Messes and 2019’s Midnight). Chura hails from Detroit, she plays a solid live show, and she writes an ambitious brand of indie rock, one that strings together several passages (or that uses long-ass bridges) with lots of sonic/tempo changes. She keeps your ears busy, basically, but I’m also only just starting to puzzle out what she’s saying to the world. When I decided to give Stef Chura seven songs on top of X’s 11, there was no way I could stop at 25 songs, so…
At any rate, the songs by Stef Chura I dragged onto the playlist are: “Method Man,” “Slow Motion,” “Spotted Gold,” “Scream,” “Trumbull” (slow jam from her), and “Jumpin’ Jack” (which nosed ahead as a second favorite after “Midnight,” a song that captures Chura’s sound as well as anything). Now, to round out the rest:
Casey Dienel – “Doctor Monroe”
From what I gather, Dienel had a former career playing as White Hinterland, and she lived in Portland for a bit (now in Brooklyn). I found her when her album, Imitation of a Woman to Love, appeared on the same year-end list of albums you might have missed as Chura’s Messes.
Cornelius – “CHAPTER 8 ~SEASHORE AND HORIZON”
Didn’t look into this artist, but I dig the slurry sound.
Habibi – “Siin”
Another I’m sharing without inquiry. One of those sly songs about relationships, real simple, staccato beat, surf guitar; good tone.
K. Flay – “This Baby Don’t Cry”
Again, zero inquiry, but this song reminds me of Caroline Rose, who I love. Lo-fi indie-pop.
Nicholas Jamerson – “Floyd County All-Star”
Made the same year-end list as Dienel and Chura (it was eclectic); a decent song from the old-school country tradition.
Private Island – “Dissolve” and “Drugs”
It takes the former a while to get there, but both of these songs serve up big, layered, dynamic indie-pop. Feel like this is radio-ready...
Ratboys – “Charles Bernstein”
While “Elvis in the Freezer” works for reasons I can’t explain, most what I’ve heard from Ratboys just plays too slow for me. I liked hearing them pick up the speed/volume.
The Dead Weather – “Are Friends Electric?”
I probably pay too little attention to fitting together sounds and styles when I make these playlists, but this one probably comes closer in sonic terms to X than most of the non-X material. Yay?
The Lemon Twigs – “Never in My Arms, Always in My Heart”
I was delighted to discover that this is a new band. I get a kick out of sloppy sounds; they come from the same place as some of the early New York punk sound.
Wilco – “Heavy Metal Drummer”
I’ve never really listened to Wilco (true story), but Spotify finally pushed this song enough times to make me love it. And it is good. Call it the “wimp indie” sound.
And, there’s the playlist. Crap. Still too goddamn long. I’ve got a week off before I can do another one. I’ll see what I can do about streamlining the damn things.
Stef Chura is a fairly new artist, just two albums in (2017’s Messes and 2019’s Midnight). Chura hails from Detroit, she plays a solid live show, and she writes an ambitious brand of indie rock, one that strings together several passages (or that uses long-ass bridges) with lots of sonic/tempo changes. She keeps your ears busy, basically, but I’m also only just starting to puzzle out what she’s saying to the world. When I decided to give Stef Chura seven songs on top of X’s 11, there was no way I could stop at 25 songs, so…
At any rate, the songs by Stef Chura I dragged onto the playlist are: “Method Man,” “Slow Motion,” “Spotted Gold,” “Scream,” “Trumbull” (slow jam from her), and “Jumpin’ Jack” (which nosed ahead as a second favorite after “Midnight,” a song that captures Chura’s sound as well as anything). Now, to round out the rest:
Casey Dienel – “Doctor Monroe”
From what I gather, Dienel had a former career playing as White Hinterland, and she lived in Portland for a bit (now in Brooklyn). I found her when her album, Imitation of a Woman to Love, appeared on the same year-end list of albums you might have missed as Chura’s Messes.
Cornelius – “CHAPTER 8 ~SEASHORE AND HORIZON”
Didn’t look into this artist, but I dig the slurry sound.
Habibi – “Siin”
Another I’m sharing without inquiry. One of those sly songs about relationships, real simple, staccato beat, surf guitar; good tone.
K. Flay – “This Baby Don’t Cry”
Again, zero inquiry, but this song reminds me of Caroline Rose, who I love. Lo-fi indie-pop.
Nicholas Jamerson – “Floyd County All-Star”
Made the same year-end list as Dienel and Chura (it was eclectic); a decent song from the old-school country tradition.
Private Island – “Dissolve” and “Drugs”
It takes the former a while to get there, but both of these songs serve up big, layered, dynamic indie-pop. Feel like this is radio-ready...
Ratboys – “Charles Bernstein”
While “Elvis in the Freezer” works for reasons I can’t explain, most what I’ve heard from Ratboys just plays too slow for me. I liked hearing them pick up the speed/volume.
The Dead Weather – “Are Friends Electric?”
I probably pay too little attention to fitting together sounds and styles when I make these playlists, but this one probably comes closer in sonic terms to X than most of the non-X material. Yay?
The Lemon Twigs – “Never in My Arms, Always in My Heart”
I was delighted to discover that this is a new band. I get a kick out of sloppy sounds; they come from the same place as some of the early New York punk sound.
Wilco – “Heavy Metal Drummer”
I’ve never really listened to Wilco (true story), but Spotify finally pushed this song enough times to make me love it. And it is good. Call it the “wimp indie” sound.
And, there’s the playlist. Crap. Still too goddamn long. I’ve got a week off before I can do another one. I’ll see what I can do about streamlining the damn things.
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